Our largest dog, Tobey, has been in and out of the vet this past week. We’ve been through numerous scares and emotional rollercoaster rides. There were several times where we didn’t think anything could be done for him and we didn’t know if he would even make it. There was the distinct possibility that we would have lost him.
I just brought him home this evening 🙂
Throughout this entire ordeal we’ve been an emotional powder keg. All of a sudden, nothing else mattered. For those of you who say ‘it’s just a dog’, I say to you ‘no, he isn’t’. He is a part of my family, much like a child. A child who is relatively innocent and who cannot verbalize the fact that he’s hurting.
It has been tense and Angela and I have looked at the situation not knowing what to do or what the outcome would be. We had to place our faith in his doctors. We had no choice.
I feel that, as the ‘dog person’ in this house, I was supposed to be in control of my emotions. I shouldn’t let Angela see my fear or sorrow. In order to help her get through this I had to be ‘strong’ for her. And yet…
…when I was alone I my tears would well up and I would start to cry. This IS my baby. He IS an innocent. When his legs were useless and he could barely move and he wouldn’t eat, I wanted to bawl like a little child.
I don’t know where I’m going with this post. I’m tired. We just spent 4 hours at the vet before I brought Tobey home. I’m happy beyond belief that he’s here.
I’m going upstairs now and my big dog will follow me. From there we’ll crawl into bed and I’ll be able to sleep with my baby boy, something I haven’t done for almost a week.