At his checkup yesterday, Lucas was amazing.
He has come so far since those early, fearful, aggressive days when the front desk staff would have to clear the lobby just for Lucas to even walk through the door. No, yesterday, he nailed it. Dogs on flexis, big dogs, little dogs, owners on their cell phones… we parked in the corner and doled out cheese and treats for nearly effortless “watch mes” from the big boy. Be still my proud, proud heart.
We didn’t get good news.
She moved the timeline from months to weeks. We sat on the floor with Lucas and his vet, and we cried. Then we brought him home and gave him a big, nasty, drippy, stinky bone. Which he loved, of course. We’re getting all his favorite things, like shredded cheese sprinkled on his meals from here on out. We bought yogurt and berries to make him ice cream. We’ll do as many micro-hikes as he wants and get him drive-thru afterwards. He’s chomping on a trachea right now.
I woke up just before 5 this morning to him twitching and crying in his sleep. It broke my heart, not because that’s never happened before–they all do it–but because I just want every second he has left to be good. No bad dreams. No bad food or sore muscles. No baths. Nothing but good.
The semester starts up on Monday, and I’m teaching two writing classes. I usually take a short blogging break during the first week because it’s so crazy getting everyone up and running. With this on top of it, well, I doubt I’ll be here much, though I’ll aim to post on Facebook and Instagram as I can.
Thank you for your continued thoughts and prayers and messages and support. This is absolutely the hardest part of love.