Of Dogs and Men

No one appreciates the very special genius of your conversations as a dog does.
- Christopher Morley (1890 - 1957)

Well, the vet thinks my dog has cancer.

Duncan is a Shetland Sheepdog. I'm not sure as to what his exact age is. (Apparently, it's 12.) He has been a part of my family for a long time. He's never been the most active of the animals at my house, but he became increasingly lethargic in recent days. It was almost overnight, when he started showing signs of sickness. I thought it would have just been a stomach thing. He would want to go out late at night and just lay in the grass, eating it occasionally. Apparently, eating grass isn't bad for a dog. Still, normally, he would bark at the slightest thing while outside, which isn't a great thing when it's 2AM.

In any case, he was taken to the vet this morning, for a $400 visit. X-rays were taken, as was blood and stomach fluid samples. Duncan is at least moving around a bit more. We have some prescriptions for him. One of which is a higher dose steroid than what I am actually on for my gout. With any luck, it's nothing too terrible, and he would eventually get over it.

Signs aren't looking good though. I am not the best when it comes to financial resources. Also, Duncan is already an old dog. (I hate to sound that morbid.) I just don't want him to suffer, and I definitely don't want to put him down prematurely. I watched my cat get put to sleep when I was a lot younger, and I am never seeing that again. I refuse to let my pet die without the dignity of me actually being there.

Well, now I just have to wait for more test results and pray the medication works.