"Weeks to live"

The vet at the Iowa State University Vet Clinic told my parents yesterday that Buster has only "weeks to live." That kind of news stuns your heart. In the past weeks, I never imagined that these days leading up to my move to college would be my last with him. I've never been more sad in my life.

A well-deserved kiss

Much of Buster's distress is from worrying about not being able to breath. We see this especially when he's put to bed.  He pants while in his crate, probably because he's a little claustrophobic. Our goal is to make him as comfortable as possible. My mom has slept with him in the living room for many nights now. I decided last night that I'd take my turn. Mom has lost sleep and I felt the need to do something meaningful for Buster. I got up and sat with Buster on the floor once or twice (can't remember...my memory is a little foggy) and petted him. I, too, lost sleep, but my selfless act was definitely worth it.

Buster had another appointment at 9am this morning, but my parents cancelled it. The vet was going to take cells from his liver to see if they are cancerous. The thing is the test is accurate only 75% of the time, and we can't starve Buster any longer. That isn't fair to him. Buster is so thin right now that I can see the structure of his skull through his skin. Not only has a lack of food caused this, but the Lasix medication has reduced much of his water weight. His skin isn't plump anymore. His fur is beginning to feel dry and has lost its volume. Also, his stomach was shaved for an ultrasound. Every discomfort adds up. He's in pain, so I'm going to make sure these last 3 days are the best we can possibly have together.

I'm sitting on the floor with him and he has finally fallen asleep. It's possible that he didn't sleep at all last night.

Thank you for your thoughts.