Eudy is still here, not eating much of anything at this point whatsoever. She had a couple small bites of sliced turkey, nothing more. Her buffet of food remains available if/when she wants it.
I called Dad and Barbara to tell them I couldn’t make it and it was hard to do. I thought I was doing well, but honestly, have managed to only not cry a small portion of the day.
When Dad got on the line he said he was sorry to hear I had a problem, he thought Rudy just had eaten something that disagreed with her, and she’s okay now, right?
I said no, she has Cancer and she is breathing but not very responsive. Dad and I may have only talked a couple of minutes he asked if I was feeling okay because I didn’t sound very well. I told him I’ve been crying and then he started to cry. Dad has changed a lot since his open heart surgery and is far more easily depressed these days. It broke my heart he started to cry. He told me to take care of myself, that was the important thing, and before he hung up the phone I heard Barbara comforting him, “It’s okay, Love.” What a tough, tough call.
Regardless of my favoring animals over family for probably pretty good reason, I really couldn’t have gone because I remain a wreck and would not be much for company. I don’t know if I could be there without crying or worrying about how Rudy was doing at home.
I think in all my adult life I’ve never missed a family gathering, that’s an oddity. I’d leaned to worship obligation long ago, despite whether I actually wanted to go or not.
I am dearly, dearly hoping our vet will be in the office tomorrow despite the holiday weekend, I’m not sure how I will get her into the full-size pickup truck if they can see her, I think I’ll try making steps out of milk crates. At least that’s the idea right now.
I’m only letting Rudy outside in the front yard to go potty so she doesn’t have to navigate stairs and it’s a much shorter walk for her.
Rudy continues to be less aware of her surroundings, even the two cats fighting a few minutes ago didn’t do anything to make Rudy get up and break it up, per usual. I continue to stay with Rudy, loving on her, sleeping next to her, watching her. She is tremendously tired, even when up on her elbows she has her eyes closed and looks to be fighting sleep.
At any rate, I have to find out what this is. Rudy continues to slow down and is a little wobbly from time to time walking. Yet she is still drinking a lot of water. We’ll see. As long as Rudy is still here, I will be there for her and we will fight this together.
It is a long, sad day here at the house. I’m playing music in hopes that is helpful, have a mat and bedding down on the floor for me, and the heater pointed in Rudy’s direction. Anything humanly possible to help.