My beautiful clown Roscoe has just been in the hospital for chronic renal disease. He's at stage IV which is not good. I came home with several pills to give him, IV solutions to hydrate him as he develops dehydration because his kidneys are failing and not doing their job. Another med to sprinkle on his food to bring down yet another blood value. I don't think its right to force pills down him when I have to fight to get it done. I don't think he needs to be stuck daily to give him fluids or to force feed him. I think this is a cruel thing to do.
I sit here and wonder if he could speak to me what he would say. Would he tell me that he is at the end of his life and to let him go. Would he tell me that I am doing all these treatments to make me feel better because I'm just not ready to let him go. All these meds and treatments what do they accomplish but to stay off the end result of his deteriorating until there's nothing left of him.
I love my furbabie, he's been my friend for a lot of years. He's been my quilting partner who sits on my cutting table and watches to make sure I measure twice and cut once. He's been there when I needed special kisses, pets and purrs.
It hurts me to watch him try to go from one place to another when he needs to jump and he doesn't quite make it because he doesn't have to strength to do it and crashes down to the floor.
It hurts my heart to know that the only reason I keep on is because I don't want to let my beautiful, loving clown go away for good.