Not Dead Yet

The dog is dying.

I know this. Kris knows this. The dog knows this.

He's not dead yet, but we are unsure if he will rally one more time.

Kris believes we held on to Bella too long. Annie let Kris know when she was done by crawling under a tree to die. With Chase, we don't know.

Kris wants to say good-bye. I want to hold on. I believe the dog's lethargy, fever, excessive sleeping, and confusion are a temporary thing, that the dog has some infection, or upset stomach, or pain we haven't figured out that is causing him to be disinterested in food.

Chase is drinking water, so that's good. He's not eating much. He's sleeping most of the days, ears and paws hot to the touch. Sometimes he wanders around the house, the yard.

I reminded Kris today that the vet isn't open today or tomorrow, so the soonest we would say good-bye is Monday. I then told Kris to enjoy the time with the dog, snuggle him, sit close, pet him, sleep next to him, be with him. Chase knows we love him, he's had a pretty good second half of life in this house.

Surprising to me, I find myself crying only infrequently. As I help Kris through his impending loss, I'm able to manage my own impending loss. This is part of sharing a life with another, whether that other is a human or animal. There is always a good-bye. Most are followed by reunions, but eventually you have one good-bye that is not.

I can't say I've always accepted death as the eventual outcome, but, let's face it, I have become more accepting of that particular reality. When one approaches a Certain Age™, acceptance is the only bearable option.

For now, Chase is still here.

Not dead yet.

Update: when he died, I was inconsolable. For months.