Dylan sleeps. He’s tired.
He doesn’t eat. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t get out of his bed.
He hasn’t eaten in over two weeks. No soft dog food, no rice, no meat.
He refuses to take his pain pill. Bit me pretty hard last time I forced him to take it. That was four days ago. Last night I deleted the reminders from my phone.
His breathing is labored and his lungs have excessive mucus. Every morning and evening I clean out his nostrils so he can breathe.
Three times a day I carry him outside to potty, but he’s only peed once in the last three days.
It’s time to let him go.
He doesn’t want to give up. Maybe for me. Maybe for himself. He looks for me when he’s awake. Lets me pet his emaciated body. Still likes his ears and throat scratched. Still hates having his nose touched.
But I can’t let him suffer any more.
His appointment is tomorrow, 3:15pm. They cremate him after and return his ashes to me in a wooden box so I can keep his remains forever. We’ll plant a tree in the yard in the Spring using his ashes.
My heart breaks. I haven’t been without him for over 14 years. I wish he didn’t have to leave me.