A few weeks ago, a good friend of ours found out that her dog, Gus, has cancer. He is 12 ½ years old.
This morning, he had a seizure, but initially, we all thought it was a stroke. When we got the call, Catch & I ran down the street to see what we could do to help, and when we arrived, Gus was splayed out on the wood floors struggling to stand up, but he had no control over his legs and really couldn’t walk. It was awful to have to see him like that.
It was about 6:45 am when we got the call, and the vet we all go to opens at 7, so I went with our friend to the vet first thing. By the time we got there, Gus had control over his legs and was able to walk, but he was completely on edge—hypersensitive and very agitated, and that’s just not Gus. I’ve actually seen him at the vet before and usually he just sits there and goes with the flow.
Fortunately, it was a seizure and not a stroke, and he was able to go home with his mom—but man, it sure puts things in perspective. I wish I could have just stayed home with my babies all day.
It kills me to know that Gus’ time is coming. Our dogs have been friends since the moment we moved in next door to each other, and I know Twix and Rolo won’t understand what is happening to their friend.
All I can do is hope that Gus’ remaining time with all of us is pain free and filled with steak and snuggles. We love you, G-dog.
Christmas Eve Hounds
Gus' First California Snow
Making their point on Halloween
Snuggles in our back yard