going to the vet today to have that talk about putting ours down
its probably going to happen much sooner than later...he poops in bed, in the apartment hallways, in the elevators, etc...then he has a hard time standing up lately and will step in it or splay himself on the floor and cant get back up...ugh..he's had a good life and has seen a lot of places
Sorry to hear Doug. We’re taking one of ours in for his annual check and while there will schedule a time for the one they don’t think has very long. If we weren’t going to be gone for so long, I wouldn’t do it, but we don’t want the boarding place to have to deal with her if something happens while we’re gone. I think this one is the hardest recession we’ve made. With the others, we knew it was time. The signs were there. With this one, there’s nothing obvious telling us it’s time. And it’s killing me. I just hope we’re making the right decision.
Let me tell you, Homer Simpson is cock of nothing!
- C. Montgomery Burns
they ran some blood and stool samples yesterday and had a couple of shots...results due in a couple days..they suggested maybe we wait a couple more weeks..we'll see
It feels like I blinked and my dog is now almost 12. I can tell he's getting older based on his energy levels, but we should have another 3-6 years with him. I'm not all emotionally prepared for that time so I really feel for you all who have pets at the end of their days.
Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.
There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.
There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.
There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.
O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.
Last edited by tragabigzanda on Tue January 13, 2026 6:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
