I need to call the vet about Sophie tomorrow. I realized this evening that the only thing that is keeping her behavior even semi-normal is the whopping daily dose of steroids. The steroids aren’t working on the diarrhea anymore. Tonight she ate dinner and sprayed my master bath dressing area with pure liquid diarrhea. The area is about 5×5, and she covered more than half of it – she tried to put it on the pads, but it comes out with such force, it’s like a fire hose.
I’ve been resisting this moment for months, but I have to concede defeat. I’ve spent thousands on tests and meds and prescription foods and more tests and a vet hospital’s worth of potty pads. I’ve gotten up in the night with her for months. I’ve cleaned up more disgusting bodily fluids than I’d ever describe.
The vet said she’d run out of treatments, unless I wanted to spend thousands on a Hail Mary pass on testing at the vet hospital at UF, still with no guarantee we’d get a treatment that would work. I’ve done plenty of those HM passes already, and I really can’t afford to keep this up. I’m exhausted, she’s just existing, and there is no cure. I should have called today, but talked myself out of it.
This evening she reminded me that I’m being an idiot. I have to remind myself that when she’s on her feet at all, I’m seeing Steroid Zombie Sophie, animated by the drugs, and she’s not getting better.
It’s time to get real, and give up.
Damn Facebook randomly shares her former self on my timeline, and while it hurts, it’s also a vivid reminder that she’s not that dog anymore. “But she’s only 12!” is not relevant. She has out of control colitis that has stopped responding to treatment. She’s blind, she’s disinterested in life, she doesn’t even enjoy outside walks anymore. I’m sad, but I’m not going to prolong this any more.