My poor little man is getting older. Like a lot of us humans do, he too is showing signs of aging. My dog, Bailey, is thirteen, and he is pure pitiful. It’s breaking my heart. I load him up in the car to go to the veterinarian.
The good news is that all though he has some age related problems, Bailey is not suffering. I say a little silent prayer for that.
“We should put him on painkillers and start him on a special diet.” The veterinarian goes on to tell me more about his arthritis and kidney problems. She doesn’t get very far before I start to zone out. I don’t mean to, but I can’t help it.
I love Bailey like I do my kids, but as the vet is talking, I see flashing dollar signs. I feel horrible that my first thought is money. But I’m not rich, and veterinary care can be quite expensive.
The vet has finished her talk describing her treatment plan. She looks in my eyes and asks me if that all sounds good and if we can proceed with treatment. “Yes, let’s do whatever we need to do. I just want him to be more comfortable.” I don’t even hesitate. If need be, I’ll figure out the money part later.
After a two-hour vet visit, I left there completely upset. I had no idea that Bailey had as many problems as he does. I feel like my time with him is running short. I really hope not.
I’m on the verge of tears and feel the need to stress eat. I call my mom to see if she will join me. I need to vent, and I don’t really want to eat a huge bacon cheeseburger by myself.
After crying and eating, I did feel better. I know the end will come for Bailey one day. But I can’t think about it and obsess over it. Whatever time we have left together, I want to enjoy fully. I have given him a good life and have done everything I can for him. In return, he has enriched my life and given me unconditional love. For that, I am truly grateful.