Well, he's still alive.

He's breathing real heavy, and is still trying to throw up, even though his stomach is empty. The vet's given him something to stop it, but it's not helping much. Part of his intestine is infected, they may have to remove it, and they can't work out how he's losing proteins. If he doesn't significantly improve today, he's going to be put to sleep.

I hate this, I hate that my dog is sick and I can't do anything, I hate that I didn't notice it sooner. I can't lose him. He was fine on the weekend, he's not even old, he's only 8. This is my dog, the dog that plays tug for 2 hours straight, the dog who's so gentle with my pups and hasn't ever even growled even when they're climbing on his head. The dog that poses so beautifully for photoshoots, and most importantly, the dog that comes everywhere with me, and always knows how I'm feeling and comforts me when I'm sad.

That's my dog. Not the dog I saw today, a black mutt with a greying muzzle, stuck in a cage with tubes in him, having trouble breathing and too tired to lift his head. I didn't even recognise him. This sounds horrible, but in a way I wish it were Ollie or Squid that were sick, at least they're younger - they'd have an easier time fighting it off. I really think we're going to lose him, and I can't, not like this, not yet.

This is a picture I took of him Saturday.



He doesn't even look ill. Gosh, I hope he pulls through.

Thanks everyone for the kind words and prayers. I'm not gonna do anything stupid, I'm not suicidal, but that dog means everything to me. I wouldn't need to kill myself, I'd die without him anyway. Thanks so much for caring, I'll update when I can.

Amy