Still Hanging In

I don't mean to be maudlin but this death sentence of Rocco's is with me every breathing moment. Waiting for the end is horrible. I feel like some wretched vulture waiting to pick his bones. I try to act as if nothing is amiss. We play the chicken jerky game where the jerky gets thrown and he has to find it, only now, I have to break the jerky in smallish pieces or he'll choke. I realised that if I tap my nose, he starts to use his nose yo find something he may have missed. He's had all the turkey he can eat and his own plate of egg nog (non alcoholic) Ham, pie and even whipped cream. The husband took Rocco for a walk by the river and as Michael and Rocco headed up the hill from the river, Michael lost his footing and went down on his knees and Rocco, off leash, came running so that Michael could use him as a support as he pushed himself up.

I want to believe that the vet was wrong that he'll get well but I can feel the lumps under the skin. He's also uncomfortable in his usual sleeping positions but he has adjusted.

My father died of a heart attack after his legs were amputated. My mother died in her sleep. I have never had to live with anyone who have a death sentence. I don't know what to expect. I don't know how to act. People without animals don't understand. I don't understand. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to act? I've doubled up my prozac but that isn't helping. I feel as if I am dying right alongside him.

I'll get through this, somehow, only it make take sometime and I may be moaning and whining till then. Just hang in there with me.