My Kraymer my Kraymer my Kraymer...
13 years young, like 85 in people years.
I don't by any means want him to suffer. He isn't eating, not taking his pills via any method I've tried (pill pockets were the norm, now cheese, cream cheese, yogurt, hot dogs, and baby food ((CHICKEN!!!)) have all been tried and all failed). I have to shove them down his throat.
He won't eat his kibble. Won't eat chicken. Won't eat hot dogs. Won't eat rice. He did eat two Roy Rogers hamburgers I got him earlier. No eggs. No expensive fancy canned food. No gravy.
Last year at this time he went thru this similar thing, we thought we were going to lose him for sure. He bounced back MIRACULOUSLY and gave us another year.
He pukes bile from not eating these past few weeks.
He still gets excited in the morning when I get up. He still looks for me when he doesn't see me when he does lift his head. He still WANTS to interact with Lebowski and Tucker. His silly body just doesn't move the way it should.
The phrase "better a week too early than a day too late" keeps echoing in my head.
I am reading the book The First Phone Call from Heaven. The common saying is that everything is great up there. I talked to my soap mentor via text today and she told me that she can relate to the phrase in my head because she let her dog go a day too long and she died at home in distress. Total regret.
A really good friend of mine said that since Kraymer is still aware I still have more time. Time for me?
I wish dogs could talk. Although... I feel like he's telling me he's tired. He's ready.
But is he? Am I crazy?
If you've read this far, thank you.
I can't fathom my little shadow not being my little shadow anymore... I can't fathom him not eating - food was his favorite.
So hard. Not a fan. Bad week so far....