We are watching our dog Diana, who is 17 years old, deteriorate slowly. It's painful and depressing to see our once lively companion in such a sad way. She sleeps most of the time, but she still eats, drinks, and potties outside. She's losing weight because she eats much less than when she was healthier. Diana is deaf, has only one eye, and is nearly blind in the one. She has severe arthritis, but we give her anti-inflammatory medication every day, and she doesn't seem to be in pain. She's also on medication for failing kidney function.
Our benchmarks are if she stops eating, or can't get up, or can't walk, then it's time. Also, the weight loss is a concern. Most likely, we will pay a visit next week to one of our wonderful and compassionate veterinarians for an opinion about her weight.
Diana is in love with Tom at the moment. On the days when he works at the boat museum, she is obviously depressed, doesn't eat, and sleeps most of the day until he comes home in the late afternoon. On the days he's home, she eats better and follows him around wherever he goes until she decides it's time for a nap.
I miss my walks with Diana. She still gets excited when she sees or hears or smells the leash, but she goes only a short way down the street now, and sometimes not even that far, sometimes only to the end of the driveway. That was our time, and that is gone. I think she functions more by smell now, since the other two senses are pretty much gone.
The time is much more difficult than I had imagined. Rusty, who came before Diana, had lymphoma, and his decline was much faster, but I suppose one should not expect to be cheerful during a death watch. I find I'm grieving for her before she is gone. Grief will have its way, and I can do nothing else but go with it and love her as long as she is with us.
