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Gone At The End

Barbara told me when we talked today that Ginger’s reached the end. And I’m still in Australia. That sucks.

They were at the vet’s a couple of days ago and Dr Cox (at Cottonwood Animal Hospital) opined that Ginger might have at most a few months left. There’s no one thing that’s identified as being the “that’s it” factor, but the poor girl’s just not doing well. Barbara’s been giving Ginger sub-cutaneous fluids to keep her hydrated (successfully, it would seem) and her bloodwork’s not bad. But she’s doing so poorly.

There are at least a few identifiable factors involved. First, she has (apparently rather quickly) been going blind and deaf, which causes her no end of confusion. Second, she has been ripped away from the woman she loved and who loved her (through the fault of neither of them). Third, she is very anxious around other, active dogs and is safest when kept in a room away from the rest. But keeping her apart is hard on her, too, because she desperately wants to be cuddled and loved, helping in some small way to ease the loss of her former person.

My heart aches for Ginger, but I’m 8000 miles away and I can’t comfort either of us. And Barbara is faced with having to take Ginger for her final goodbye without me there to offer support, love, and help.

I wish I could be mad at somebody, blame somebody for this terrible situation. But I don’t really think that anybody’s done anything wrong. Stuff happens sometimes, just chains of events with side effects.

Poor Ginger. Poor Barbara.

On this day..

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