This is so fucked up. It's been two years of Paco fighting, but it's coming to an end.
Tomorrow, a vet is coming to my house to take Paco's life away. Like I said, it's so fucked up.
I didn't keep up on these posts, because he was just fine most of the time. He never really showed any issues until this past Christmas. I'm sad there aren't more posts, but this time it was different. Every time I thought I was losing him, he'd prove me wrong. Hell. I hid him for the entire year that I lived at my old house, as he wasn't supposed to live this long.
He's a strong little guy, I'll give him that. It wasn't until last September, when we made the cross country trip to my sister's wedding, that he would even complain about anything. Now, he doesn't like going out anywhere. If I take him to the park, or the beach, or even on a walk, he shakes and gets stressed out. It's a sad life he's living, but he has me here, so he doesn't mind too much. I guess I'm just rambling, so that I can make sure that I know I'm making the right decision.
We have had a nice day, thus far. We went on a little walk, and then sat out in the yard for a little while, and relaxed in the sunshine. Now, as I write this, Paco is cuddled up to my left side, snoozing away.
With all of this sadness, part of me feels a sense of relief. It saddens me to say that, but I've always wondered how Paco feels about all of this. The poor guy has been sick for two years, taking medication twice a day and just slowly dying. It's time that he find peace.
I've told him that tomorrow he is going tp nap, and never wake up. This breaks my heart. All of this does. My poor boy.
Fuck, does this ever sting.
Tomorrow, a vet is coming to my house to take Paco's life away. Like I said, it's so fucked up.
I didn't keep up on these posts, because he was just fine most of the time. He never really showed any issues until this past Christmas. I'm sad there aren't more posts, but this time it was different. Every time I thought I was losing him, he'd prove me wrong. Hell. I hid him for the entire year that I lived at my old house, as he wasn't supposed to live this long.
He's a strong little guy, I'll give him that. It wasn't until last September, when we made the cross country trip to my sister's wedding, that he would even complain about anything. Now, he doesn't like going out anywhere. If I take him to the park, or the beach, or even on a walk, he shakes and gets stressed out. It's a sad life he's living, but he has me here, so he doesn't mind too much. I guess I'm just rambling, so that I can make sure that I know I'm making the right decision.
We have had a nice day, thus far. We went on a little walk, and then sat out in the yard for a little while, and relaxed in the sunshine. Now, as I write this, Paco is cuddled up to my left side, snoozing away.
With all of this sadness, part of me feels a sense of relief. It saddens me to say that, but I've always wondered how Paco feels about all of this. The poor guy has been sick for two years, taking medication twice a day and just slowly dying. It's time that he find peace.
I've told him that tomorrow he is going tp nap, and never wake up. This breaks my heart. All of this does. My poor boy.
Fuck, does this ever sting.