We have had a sick puppy for about a month, but there was really nothing that could be done. She was simply getting old.
Klondike ended up having to be carried outside to go potty in her last 3 days. And she really loved it because she has always believed she was a princess (which she was). Her last day on this earth, she and I laid in the sun out in the soft green grass. I told her all of the things I probably had told her over the years, but needed repeating. That night, she fell asleep and passed on to the Rainbow Bridge. Our hearts ache at losing our baby, but we know she's able to run and be with her brother and sisters.
Because she had to be carried out, the hubby would carry her out at night while I was sleeping. One of those nights, he re-injured his back. I mean, bad enough that he's lucky to get out of bed long enough to go potty and hobble back to bed. Everything falls on to me at this point. Because of the erratic schedule of his sleeping (because of the pain), I am cooking 3 different meals for the 2 of us, plus running and fetching for him, not to mention all of the other million things that need to be done during the day.
I'm worn out, run down, and on the verge of breaking. A friend told me that was the good part of being a human being: we fall apart and mend.
I've also been looking for a job which means my spare time is spent filling out applications online with very little writing getting done. That's the hard part of living in the U.P....not a lot of job prospects out there.
So, you know where I've been the last two weeks...on the verge of a breakdown.