While waiting for x-rays to develop at the vet's yesterday afternoon, I looked out the window and there were little green shoots poking up from the ground. It gave me a little hope that even though I am awash in sadness right now, the world is turning, and I will not feel this sadness and grief forever.
I found out yesterday that the "List" does indeed work. Rocky had an awful time Saturday night, and when he wasn't doing any better by yesterday afternoon, I made the call. The vet asked me to meet him at the office ("as soon as you can get there"), and when I arrived, the vet's wife, who is also one of his assistants, had come along as well. Those two people used their entire Sunday afternoon (a day when they were not even on call) to try to help Rocky.
They put Rocky in an oxygen tent to try to get him comfortable, and we discussed the options. The vet wanted to get some x-rays, do a fecal sample, and go from there. He explained that if things looked grim from the x-rays, it may be time to make a decision. He said he had basically tried everything he could, and if the x-rays looked bad, he could give me a referral to the Cornell Veterinary School, who are the local go-to guys for tough cases. I said that I was not willing to let Rocky suffer any further, and that if the x-rays looked bad, I wanted to ...... well ...... you know.
The vet developed the x-rays, and said that they did not look any worse than the previous x-rays. He explained that Rocky's decline might have something to do with stuff trying to work its way out of his lungs. The fecal tests came back negative, which means there is probably not a parasitic infection.
Because Rocky is bright-eyed and eating and drinking well, the vet suggested we give it one last shot. So they switched his antibiotics, and currently he is on oxygen 24/7. The vet said that if Rocky is going to turn around, he will do so by tomorrow. If tomorrow comes and he is still not better, we are going to ...... you know. Because I will not allow him to suffer. I will not wait until he is glassy-eyed and suffocating. I feel that this is the last, best thing I can do for him.