The end is near: Tuesday

Know what?  It's fucked up to know when your pet is going to die.  Totally fucked up!

I also want to know if I'm a total wuss.  I've been crying a lot.  I try to tell myself he's just a dog but he's more than that.  He's a family member.  I feel like such a big baby.  One thing about Bruiser is that he brings out a ton of feelings in me!

I've felt like a crybaby: 

On several of my sleepless nights, listening to him yodel and cry, I would cry.  Because of desperation and self pity.  I was so exhausted and frustrated and just completely out of my league with trying to manage him.

I've felt murderous: 

On a couple nights where he wanted to go in and out repeatedly during the wee hours and it was raining and I couldn't find my slippers so got to go in and out in the cold and wet in my bare feet (cause I was just too shot to try to fumble around in the dark looking for flips with a yowling dog tucked in my arm) and how he wanted to bark and I didn't want him to wake up the whole house...I had evil thoughts...like how I would like to strangle him right there or taking off and dumping him in a field and be done with the whole awful mess.  I'll be honest...I hated him in those moments.  With an abiding passion.  

I feel sorry for him: 

I watch him wander around the house with his head down, not paying much attention to anything and I feel sorry for him because his life isn't as good as it was.  I remember when he was so feisty.  He was such an annoying pain in the ass with his need for attention!  Now when I reach to pet him, he flinches away and speeds up his walk to get away.  I know not to take it personally.  It's part of the dementia.  He rarely seeks out human contact anymore.  I miss my feisty Bruiser.  I do see feisty Bruiser briefly here and there and it's always a welcome thing. 

I feel mean, cruel, evil, awful: 

When I have to put meds in his eyes and he cries.  I feel mean tho I'm trying to help.  It doesn't hurt him.  I've had to do it so many times that he doesn't tolerate it well any more.  He's tired of it.  He doesn't want me messing with his eyes anymore.  I'm sorry I have to do it.  He'd feel bad if I didn't. 

Let's not even mention that I'm going to kill him in a few days.  You can call it nicer things but that's what I'm doing.  Talk about feeling mean!  I feel horrid and evil!  Holy crap!  It feels like total shit even if it's saving him a miserable winter and more physical/mental decline (which might kill me if I have an accident because I fall asleep driving to work - already finding errors I don't usually make at work - not good).  Not to mention that his family needs some sleep at night...

I feel frustrated: 

I watch him eat and within a short period, get confused and get mad at me because he's sure it's breakfast or supper time and why won't I feed him?  I get frustrated - being barked at isn't nice - I accuse him of people abuse - but I know he can't help it. 

I see him show interest in his surroundings sometimes and wish he could become young again and we could start over and have another 15 yrs.  Shit. 

I feel relief:

He doesn't seem to get stressed about the tree outside anymore.  Thunder doesn't terrorize him anymore. 

I worry: 

I worry when he bolts into things coming out of a sleep.  I worry when he tries to jump off the stairs or the bed.  He has hurt himself doing that when people didn't know to watch him.  He has no sense anymore. 

I worry because he has no way of protecting himself from my 3 yr old granddaughter.  She accidentally stepped on him a while back.  He was napping and couldn't hear that she was near.  He limped around for a bit after that. 

I'd worry that all this "startling" was taking a toll on his heart.  That won't be what does him in at least. 

I feel love:

He's my puppy.  He has beautiful big brown eyes.  They are clouded now with age.  I can't talk about this.  No crying at work.  I just love him.  Tons.