Preparing for the worst, hoping for the best

I always seem to forget the heartache that comes with owning a pet. I’ve had pets all my life: cats, dogs, bunnies, frogs, you name it. I think at one point I even had a rooster. And I always love them deeply and sincerely, wrapping every heartstring I have around them. They get sick and I panic; I worry and cry and do what I can to save them. For the most part, I’ve been successful saving their lives and loving them until old age gets the best of them. This time, I am not so sure that’s going to work. And, this time, it’s genuinely different.

Yes, I’ve loved all of my pets equally, but I’ve never had a bond the way that I do with Itsy and Xander. They’ve taught me the true meaning of loving unconditionally, sincerely and without holding back. They’ve brought more joy into my heart when I’ve needed them the most. And I’ve protected them and loved them like no other. I thought they would grow old with me, and that when I have children in a few years, they would love Itsy and Xander, too. They were supposed to be with me for 20+ years, not a short 8.

Itsy is getting worse. She’s weak and lethargic, barely eating again. I was convinced she’d have more time to heal; that her count would go up enough to do the ultrasound and we’d be able to find something – anything – that we could fix for her. But her count isn’t going up. It’s going down, way too fast. Her pcv count went from a 22 to a 13.8 in less than a week, and I’m sure it’s even lower now. I dropped her poop off this morning, lab results tomorrow. I don’t know why I bothered to spend the money, because I am not sure if there’s anything I can even do. I guess it’s because I can’t give up hope yet–I can’t give up on my baby girl. I have to have some hope that there’s a chance, even a fleeting, insignificant one. Even if there IS something we can do, she’s going to need another transfusion before we even do it. And, is it going to be fast enough?

The many vets I’ve been working with and Peggy (my dear friend and LICK founder) have all told me they support my decisions and are hoping for the best, but they know what the outcome will be and want me to be prepared for it. They’ve all informed me that they believe Itsy does have cancer in her marrow or intestines, and they know even if I could afford it, I would not put her through those treatments as she is not a good candidate and her quality of life would be severely compromised.

I love her and I am just not ready to give up on her. But I think she’s trying to tell me she’s ready and she knows I’m not; that’s why she’s holding on so long. I had a long, heart-wrenching talk with her on the bathroom floor at 1:30 this morning (because, of course, I can’t sleep right). I told her how much I loved her, and that although I don’t want her to go, if she has to go, I’ll understand. I told her to just hold on while I work, and not to cross the bridge until I’m home with her, because I need to say goodbye then. I know if I need to, I will do what is right and take her to help her cross. I can’t let her suffer; she deserves more than that.

The past few weeks have been a heart-wrenching ride I’d like to forget all about. But looking back at the past 8 years with her, I wouldn’t trade any of them. She’s been a blessing in my life and I am going to hold out hope for her until there’s no hope left to give.

I love you, baby girl.