apparently sydney's lungs were 75% filled with fluid, may have been cancer, which with as pained and anemic as he looked is actually what i thought yesterday oddly enough... his tongue turned colors when he got excited, he couldn't really breathe... it could have been something else, but if they were wrong then he would have suffocated to death anyhow, and there wasn't much more we could do unless we decided to take him to the university so... yeah. poor dad wrestled with the decision all day... our regular vet wasn't there today, but dad really wanted to hear it all from him, so they called our vet and he called dad... when he called asking if mom was home and didn't tell me why, well, that confirmed it all for me. even thought of blogging about it then. i finally asked mom after she got home and she told me.
at anyrate, since dad didn't 'want to dig a hole big enough for a horse' they're cremating him, said we didn't want the ashes. mom said that what made it sydney wasn't there anymore, she's right.
...syd was barely there yesterday, when he was alive...
at anyrate, dad said he looked better this morning, he was...
he was smiling out the window and such...
great scot, i'm glad he didn't end up having me help.
i had said goodbye yesterday, syd followed me to the gate...
it was always hard to leave those big eyes and wagging tail at the gate...
but leaving the sloped back, weary legs, pained eyes, and tail that couldn't wag...
so much harder...
at anyrate...
thinking of his lifeless body burning was an image i ran from.
i'm glad he's no longer in pain...
he held on that long, last week when i was home and i visited him i knew it would be soon, i told him to hang on for me...
he hung on just enough...
for me.
at least this time i got to say goodbye.
i know he's just a dog, but i feel bad for dying flowers for pete's sake...
that and he was 15, my other dog that died in january was 17...
they were just kind of always there, i would go and cry to them, talk to them when i had no one else.
i just feel terrible for the loss of anylife...
*random
this song has been going through my mind today:
often what i think of when i see homeless people...
or anyone really...
i always think of their past, of what brought them there, why they're here...
random thought during the two kind of good hours that i had:
thinking is the wine in which dreamers are drunk.
i love that quote...
so true to me.
INTJ and INFP, if that is what i am...
when the two come together perfectly...
thinking indeed is the wine in which dreamers are drunk.
intoxicating thoughts may be mistresses revered throughout the ages, flirting with countless minds yet seeming new to each lover...
but that does not make them less fascinating.
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