down tonight to visit the dogs, I found the floor covered with drops of blood, and even outright puddles. The blood is unique that its color is panic. My first instinct was to know which dog it came from and where the blood had flowed. As I expected it was Nash (the Shepherd Beauceron) who had rectal bleeding. Why I was expecting? Parce qu'à notre retour de vacances, on l'a trouvé très amaigri, squelettique même, mais on a négligemment pensé qu'il s'agissait d'une forme de dépression dûe à notre absence. Même si je taisais ce que je craignais, je ne le pensais pas moins, et peut-être mes parents aussi.
Après avoir été sur tous les répondeurs des vétérinaires pour trouver celui de garde, qui avait seulement son portable d'urgence car il accouchait une vache, j'ai pu obtenir une entrevue vers 22h. Dès qu'il a vu la maigreur du chien, il s'est exclamé que c'était qqch de grave. En quelques palpements, il a trouvé une masse dans le ventre qui expliquait le saignement. Worse, Nash had a tumor in the tail of the size of a large egg that we had not even seen! Tumor in the anus, lump in the abdomen, cancer equal to the innocent. He could see the blood vessels all white under the eye that was bleeding so heavy that I assured him.
Verdict, the dog was dying slowly in less than a week. Maybe not even in pain because the bleeding was going to tire and make it insensitive. To say that a veterinarian had diagnosed a heart problem that would kill him within a year or two. Really it all breaks down slowly in the dog. If anything he was going to die tonight, and I would bury more than I, who have worked so hard to bury the cat, which was dug up horribly (by the same dog. At worst, I dig it right this time and fox terrier should not feel like digging up Nash.
But I do not really want to do that. I await the response from my parents for permission to do euthanize and incinerate. He had feel dead when I made him climb the stairs of Veterinary and braked the four irons. Perhaps he was reassured to come out, but tomorrow I will make my farewells solitary (as Octarine) I hope he does not panic not until the fatal shot, he does not cry, but it is so old and tired. Poor doggie. Farewell, we all loved you despite what you did to the cat.
