Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Ty, September 4, 2012, morning update

A couple of changes worth noting.  This morning the crease in his nose leather (the one they all have, that runs up/down, between the nostrils, down to the lip line) started to bleed, and there were several spots of blood on the floor.  We took him outside for a hose drink, and he dipped his nose into the water bucket several times.  The bleeding seemed to stop.  I took a couple of photos afterward.  I was so worried when I discovered the blood, I didn't stop to take photos.  It looks better following his drink, and dunk.  Not quite as shocking as it looked with blooding dripping down into his mouth.

And don't think for a minute I did not notice that sweet eye, looking up, full of trust, into Cliff's caring and gentle face.  I believe he knows we are doing everything possible to help him get well.  That sweet eye tells me at least that much...

As for the rest...

Mouth sores continue in a holding pattern.  Nothing new, but no improvement, either. Breathing remains difficult through his nose, and he is continuing to pant very heavily.

He sleeps most all the time.  He needs assistance to get up and down, as he is so weak, but once up, he moves about fairly well.

Overall, we are just not seeing improvement.  The nose is much worse over the past several days, though everything else seems to be holding.

Just so hard...I wish I could take on his pain, so he could be free from it.  I know I speak for Cliff, too, when I say these words.  He is just a shell of his former self.  Come back, baby boy.  Please come back.  Whatever we need to do, we will do, until...well, until you tell me you are done with the fight.


  1. So hard. Keep your chin up; sometimes it truly is darkest before the dawn. Here's a story. Whitney (Clan Duncan Powder Blue) was almost twelve and had a debilitating stroke. She was suddenly blind and couldn't control her legs on one side, so couldn't get up and walk. Vet said to put her down. The way she held her mouth made me realize that she was still in there fighting and deserved a chance. She could still lap water if her head was held just right, and could eat soft food. I helped hold her so she could go potty. Ten days and Whitney could see again. Two weeks and she could walk if I got her up on her feet. A month and she could get up on her own. She had three more good years before another stroke took her. So I understand your fight. Sometimes you know it's time to let go--but sometimes you know that it's time to fight. Dana

    1. Thanks, Dana. There is no question he is still fighting. There have been moments where I thought we might be close, but he's just not letting go, and I won't give up on him while he wants to fight.