Sometimes, us pet owners find The One Pet. You know the one(and maybe you haven't found yours yet), the One that is Perfect, despite his or her flaws. The One that, no matter what mood you're in, they make you feel better. The One that knows how you feel, and revels in the emotion with you. Whether sharing a pint of ice cream while you lament a horrible day, or a bad breakup, or celebrating your promotion with a joyous fit of leaping and laughter through the house... Through loss, and gain, and joy, and sorrow, and anger..... no matter what, the One is always there by your side, to do anything neccessary to let you know that he or she is RIGHT THERE. Immovable, stable, certain.

The One lets you know that no matter what, you are not Alone. They are always there to share with you what you have, beg for what they cannot, and whether you are upset with him or her, or saddened by the loss of your grandmother's hand-stitched photo album and all the photos that went with it into the pit of your pet's stomach(or under a lifted leg because "Mom, really, I just had to go, I'm so sorry") you know that five minutes later, the ill will be forgotten, and who cares that it ever happened to begin with? And that you would trade, every earthly possession just to be sure your One could stay happy and healthy at your side, no matter what.

Mine happens to be a great dog named Jennyr. I used to think it was a great dog named Dodge, but growing up and out of teenage mentality has left me with a much more clear veiw of more than just the world, but also who I choose to keep at my side. The tiny infant pup that needed very minute of my attention grew into a sedate, though sometimes boistrous puppy, who then grew into a stoic and regal adult. With me when things were good, with me when things were bad. Danced and leapt with me along the fringes of mortal heaven, and walked with me through the depths of earthly hell.

He is my One, and for him, I would trade everything. My possessions, my collections, my finances, my life. For his well-being, there is no price too high, no ocean too deep or dangerous to swim.

So when on Saturday he started crying trying to walk, and screaming when trying to get up the stairs, I was scared. I had to carry him up the stairs to potty. (A rather big deal; I weigh 120, and he weighs 110) I called the emergency vet clinic to get some advice. With some aspirin(being all the recomended), and some good old fashioned TLC, he was better the next day. I chalked it up to wintertime, and the cold weather making his joints stiff. A problem he's had since he was 2. Supplements are slowly becoming more and more useless against this ailment, even though he's only 6.

Sunday I didn't worry too much. He was taking the stairs in two leaps and seeming like his old, normal self again.

Monday morning brought my world sharply back at square one, as he stood at the foot of my bed crying in pain. He couldn't walk without crying. So much as looking at the stairs caused him to scream. I had to carry him outside to potty, and even then he was in too much pain to actually do so. Aspirin was doing nothing(as since Saturday morning, I kept him up to dose on it) and I couldn't give him any more; he was already on the maximum dosage.

Calling my mom in tears, she dropped everything and took me to my vet, who immediately took x-rays, and prescribed him some medicine to ease his pain.

The x-rays showed conclusively that there wasn't a single thing wrong with his hips, but there could be some calcifying vertibrae between his hips, and completely inoperable. If this is the cause of his pain, there is nothing that can be done, but to wait until he can go no further.

This morning, I gave him his medicine, and we went about our day, with me absorbed in worry awaiting word from the radiologist whose opinion is needed before any diagnosis can be reached.

Titanium-stomached Jennyr began to have loose stools this morning, which only worsened throughout the day. Blood began appearing in it. I called the vet this afternoon, and she said it could be a normal reaction to stress, but just in case, not to feed him, and not to give him his medication. To call her back if he got worse, visibly ill, or began vomitting. Loose stool was a side effect of the meds, and really nothing to worry about. The color of the blood(bright red) indicated it was coming from the colon, and not somewhere very troublesome like further into his intestines or stomach.

Slightly relieved, but still worried, I hung up with the vet, and kept a close watch on Jennyr, keeping him hydrated and sedate.

Later that night I had to go and do laundry with Will, we were only gone a couple hours... But  by the time we returned, Jennyr had defecated on the floor in the house. Not too terrible a thing, considering his tummy upset, but a very good thing from a medical standpoint.

Hardly any of it was actual fecal matter; it was all blood. Not bright red blood, either, but clotted and dark. Jennyr indicated he had to go again, and I ran him outside. More clots. And only clots.

There is nothing I can do until morning, unless he begins to get into an "emergency" state. He looks like he feels fine.

I called my mom and dad, got the encouragement I was right in doing what I was doing, keeping him hydrated and low-impact, and to wait out the night, and see what morning would bring(with an immediate call to the vet after waking up.)

Just in case, and to try to settle my mind, I went online to check out the drug he'd been prescribed, Deramaxx. Finding only bad reviews and comments, a few horror stories, and numbers that frankly didn't agree with me, I logged off to take a shower to try and calm down.

Jennyr wouldn't lay down the whole time I was in the shower. Just stood there looking in at me like he does when he wants to come in too. I wouldn't let him though (it's 1am, I don't feel like dealing with a wet dog at 1am.) and so he just stood and stared until I was done.

He's asleep at my feet now, with all the fur on the lower half of his back standing straight up whenever he wakes up. He's in pain again. He'll be crying by morning. My heart is wrenching out of my chest right now. It has been since Saturday. I can't fucking DO anything.

My stomach is wadded up in a knot and I'm not sure if I want to vomit or just curl up and die. It's a worse than sick feeling.

I'm coming to the realization that, much to my own discontent, I may have to put him down before he's even out of his prime.

There's not really anything left to write, but... I can't sleep. My heart hurts too much, my soul hurts too much. The thought of losing him... scares me worse than I've ever been frightened for him before.

I was telling Will, I'm as terrified as when I watched him get hit by a semi truck when he was nine months old. But this time... I can't just run across the street to see if he's ok. This time, I have to wait. I have to be patient. I have to figure out what to do with the embodiment of my heart while it NEEDS something that I simply cannot provide.

Sigh. :(