Sometimes, life really sucks. This is one of those times.
It’s not that I wasn’t aware of the inevitability or that I’m not a realist. It’s just when it comes out into the harsh light of day, some facts beat you over the head with a bat, rabbit punch you in the kidneys and then stab you in the gut.
The ‘L’ word in this case is lymphoma. Ozzie was diagnosed with it last night.
He’s 14. If it wasn’t that, it would be something else. I know this. And yet I feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest with a pitchfork.
Except for some rather excessive swelling in and around his throat, he seems to be his normal little self. In fact, within a few hours of getting home from the vet last night, he vigorously helped me open one of my birthday presents (a pre-midnight surprise and I suspect a pick-me-up courtesy of the mother) and then proceeded to play with the present with the vigor of a puppy (a softball-sized, color-changing ball – something I play with every time we go to Cracker Barrel).
First, we’re going to see if steroids will bring his lymph nodes down any. If not, chemo is another option. But he is 14 and while, according to the vet, dogs do tolerate it relatively well, that’s a bit radical to put him through. Or at least I think it is.
But that’s looking too far ahead.
For right now, I just want him to be as happy and as comfortable as I can make him and enjoy whatever time he has left. He’s had a good long run and I’m grateful for that.
This is just going to be incredibly hard.