To say that today was a pretty rough day doesn't really convey what I'm feeling. For me, for Casie, and most definitely for Conney. I'm sitting here in bed now, emotionally drained. Casie is next to me, reading. Conney is in the bathroom on the floor next to the toilet. We think she really enjoys the cold of the tile and of the air vent nearby. I can occasionally hear her shake her body and make the tags on her collar jingle before making a huffing noise.
The selfish part of me wants to move her to the bed so she can be close to us. I tried to pick her up but before I could really touch her she started making a low noise. Not really a growl. She only ever growls at that one neighbor dog when we walk by it's yard. More of a quiet request, as much as she can make one, to be left alone. I know that's probably all she wants after today.
We, I, smothered her with attention. I mean, I do that from time to time, she's adorable after all. But not like today. I'm fairly certain both my constant doting and the walk Casie took her on a 45 minutes ago have worn her out. She'd just had a little accident in the living room. I managed to sort of get to it in time.
Before that I spent the previous two hours hand feeding her tiny bits of chicken nuggets from Chic-fil-a. She hadn't really eaten all day so I was ecstatic when she took a nibble off a waffle fry. After she stopped wanting that I tried a bit of the breading on a chicken nugget. Sometimes it took a few tries, but I managed to get her to eat about 3 nuggets worth. I even managed to sneak in some of her medicine that the vet gave us — Cerenia for nausea and Famotidine for acid reflux — and the diphenhydramine she recommended we give her if we had any. I'm still pretty hungry as a result, but she needs the food way more than me. She hadn't eaten much of anything solid since maybe Thursday. I'd have given her my whole dinner if she would have eaten it.
The drive to pick up the food was miserable. I didn't want to leave her. Casie stayed behind to be with Conney. All I could think about was all of the times we've left Conney alone at home while we go out. To work, to the store, for dinner. It's not just tonight, every time I've had to leave her alone since the day we adopted her I've felt terrible about it. Conney can be very demanding of your attention, but that's part of what makes her so awesome. She always wants more pets.
I told Casie what I've been telling myself for the last few days: that the only reason this hurts so much is because of how much we love Conney. If we didn't this would be easy. But it's hard. I know I'm about to lose the the part of my life that's most important to me, second only to Casie. I can't do anything about it. And that fills me with this sort of dread, a vision of the future where Conney isn't there with her wiggle butt every time I come home.
Between obnoxiously taking photos of her she got plenty of pets and belly rubs this evening. Casie had to pick her up to get her on the couch. Normally she'll hop on and off as she pleases. It is hers after all, we just paid for it.
Before all the belly rubs and neck scratches it took several minutes to coax her into the back yard. The squirrels have been roaming around the last couple of days like they own it. Usually Conney wouldn't be having any of that. Her tag says "Squirrel Patrol" for a reason.
I've moved out to Conney's couch now so I don't disturb Casie while I finish writing this. She went to sleep a while ago now. Conney meanwhile seems to have started her midnight patrol of the downstairs...
As I was writting that last sentence she came out here and started to demand pets in typical Conney fashion. She just gives you this insistant look. You know what she wants. And if you stop for even a second she nudges your hand. This time it wasn't as forceful as it usually is. After I hesitated too long between pet number 137 and pet number 138 she sauntered over to the plate of rice and bowl of water sitting near the kitchen table and made that quiet request noise she's been making.
My guess that she wanted more chicken nuggets turned out to be correct. I pulled the plate with the remains of my/her dinner — another two and a half or so nuggets — on the floor. She revealed her true ultimate piggy side and started to snarf. A few inhaled bites later and she stood up abruptly. I worried that something might be wrong. She no-tailed it over to the bed room and I followed and managed to wake Casie up in the process. I explained that Conney was clearly still hungry. In the dark I thought I saw that she had vomited a little just now so I turned on the light only to find she had carried off a whole chicken nugget. As soon as she was discovered she ate the whole thing, taking several deliberate bites.
Before her brief excursion out back Conney spent her first hour back home lounging about on the kitchen floor. Despite my aversion for floors I spent the better part of that hour down there with her. I'm not so sure she knew what to make of that. The rest of it was spent trying to get her to look at a camera. She was obviously exhausted.
Just the car ride home had taken had drained much of what little energy she had left the clinic with. She was so excited to see us. Not that it's a contest, but I think I was more excited to see her for once. Until she walked out of the back of the office, led out by the nurse, I had been afraid she'd somehow be different even though she'd only spent two nights there. Even with a shaved belly she's still the same silly dog whose love seems unconditional.
The clinic never called, but after eating our sandwhiches and drinking our Phosphate and Egg Cream she called them and asked if it was okay for us to take Conney home. The vet gave us the go ahead but added that we should probably get her some baby food, it was all they had been able to get er to eat. We stopped by Target on the way there and got a few jars. After smelling it this evening I'm not sure how anything, human or dog. could eat that stuff.
Casie and I cried. For hours. I'm not sure for how long, for the rest of the morning it seemed like. Eventually we got showered and ready and went to go get lunch. I was going to drive but Casie suggested we take her car (the Conney car) in case the vet called and we were able to go pick her up.
The call from the vet that woke Casie and I up this morning confirmed our worst fears: Lymphoma. That or something that more or less mimics it. Pretty much every other ailement had been ruled out. As I write this we're still waiting on the results of one last test being done to determine exactly what's wrong, but we both know what it is. Either way Conney needed to stay at the clinic until early afternoon. All we could do was wait.
As I find time over the next few days I plan on importing all of the posts Casie made to tumblr to this site. Casie's post from today explains more of what's going on. I'll be backdating the posts so they will be shown to have been posted at the time Casie originally made the post. I also plan on uploading every single photo of Conney I can find.
This post sort of meandered more than I would have liked. When I started it it was still Saturday the 22nd. I just felt like I needed to get today down on paper (of sorts). I know Conney doesn't have much time left. Every moment I have with her is precious. They always have been since the first, but especially now.