My sad news with my pets just keeps going on and on.
Yesterday, I came home from work to find my little female dog, Kahlua, dragging her leg as she tried to walk towards me, her sight in one eye had been deteriorating lately, but now she was having trouble walking. I stayed up all night with her but she was only getting worse and became distressed if I moved from her side.
This morning I took her along to the vet and the news was not good, old age, missing her companion Bailey, failing eyesight and leg injury (probably caused by trying to jump up on her favourite seat). The vet said I would be just delaying the inevitable by keeping her alive. So once again I had to return home alone.
I'm sitting here now without words. Lost.
Friday, 28 September 2012
Monday, 3 September 2012
I have been rather quiet of late because I have had to deal with some things that have given me a shake-up.
My brother, Bruce, was diagnosed with neck and head cancer 6 years ago which required a 10 hours operation to remove abscessed soft tissue from his neck and installation of a new voice box and removal of his bottom teeth. He had intensive radiography and also had to learn to speak again. Over the years he has had lumps removed from his head and neck. Last year in March he was told he would not be having any more operations done to remove any more lumps and no more radiography and was given a couple of months to live but they could give him palliative chemotheraphy to give him maybe an extra 12 months and now would be assigned to a palliative doctor.He finished his course of chemo last September, and was able to play golf again.
On 29 June my rescue cat, Darcy, went outside and hasn't been seen since. I had had him for 4 years.
On 27 July Bruce had a stroke was hospitalized and entered rehab. Last week he returned home and is taking things slowly. (My dad had a stroke when he was 54 which paralysed him down his left side and he died at 67 years.) For some reason the news my brother having a stroke knocked the stuffing out of me, up until then my travelling down to Sydney to take him to chemo and a palliative doctor appts I was able to cope. Grieving.
On 14 August I came home from work to find my 12yo dog, Bailey, laying down in the backyard, I knew as soon as I saw him he was gone. I rang the Vet and he said to bring him down and they will look after him. More grieving.
I live on my own, (divorced empty nester), my pets are my little family. Now there is just my 12yo Maltese Terrier, Carly, and I. I had bought the two of them from a little old lady who had 7 dogs, council had told her she could only have 3 and to get rid of the others. My children were still living at home and my eldest son Nicholas and I fronted up to the house only expecting to take one home but the lady was worried if we took one it would be too lonely. So we ended up taking home Carly, and Bailey, a West Highland dog. She had brought them from two different dog breeders, they were 6 months old when they joined our family.
Everyone keeps telling me to buy a new cat/dog but I think Carly is too old to have a young puppy/kitten running around her. We went on a 2km walk the other day which she loved but paid for it with being all achey the next day.
......................
More and more I have been trying to direct this blog into what it originally was supposed to be ... a life journal.
My brother, Bruce, was diagnosed with neck and head cancer 6 years ago which required a 10 hours operation to remove abscessed soft tissue from his neck and installation of a new voice box and removal of his bottom teeth. He had intensive radiography and also had to learn to speak again. Over the years he has had lumps removed from his head and neck. Last year in March he was told he would not be having any more operations done to remove any more lumps and no more radiography and was given a couple of months to live but they could give him palliative chemotheraphy to give him maybe an extra 12 months and now would be assigned to a palliative doctor.He finished his course of chemo last September, and was able to play golf again.
On 29 June my rescue cat, Darcy, went outside and hasn't been seen since. I had had him for 4 years.
On 27 July Bruce had a stroke was hospitalized and entered rehab. Last week he returned home and is taking things slowly. (My dad had a stroke when he was 54 which paralysed him down his left side and he died at 67 years.) For some reason the news my brother having a stroke knocked the stuffing out of me, up until then my travelling down to Sydney to take him to chemo and a palliative doctor appts I was able to cope. Grieving.
On 14 August I came home from work to find my 12yo dog, Bailey, laying down in the backyard, I knew as soon as I saw him he was gone. I rang the Vet and he said to bring him down and they will look after him. More grieving.
I live on my own, (divorced empty nester), my pets are my little family. Now there is just my 12yo Maltese Terrier, Carly, and I. I had bought the two of them from a little old lady who had 7 dogs, council had told her she could only have 3 and to get rid of the others. My children were still living at home and my eldest son Nicholas and I fronted up to the house only expecting to take one home but the lady was worried if we took one it would be too lonely. So we ended up taking home Carly, and Bailey, a West Highland dog. She had brought them from two different dog breeders, they were 6 months old when they joined our family.
Everyone keeps telling me to buy a new cat/dog but I think Carly is too old to have a young puppy/kitten running around her. We went on a 2km walk the other day which she loved but paid for it with being all achey the next day.
......................
More and more I have been trying to direct this blog into what it originally was supposed to be ... a life journal.
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