When Tears Fall Hard

It has been several weeks since I accepted the realization that mega-esophagus has not only been winning the battle with Riley and me, but will likely finish the war sooner rather than later. Well, I have been kidding myself. There is no way I can accept that we have lost. I will never be ready to make the decision much less be there, looking into his eyes, when his DVM puts him to forever sleep. The thought of never seeing him again.... ever. That world does not exist.

And yet, the time. It draws closer.
And yet, already.... He is less and less... Himself.

How do I do this? How do I make the decision to let him go? I can't. I just... I don't know how to do that. I also don't know what to do anymore. Period.

Tears are streaming; but never more so than when I was with my GF, Kat, two nights ago.

[She, by the way, has been beyond wonderful. Supportive, helpful, caring, sweet, kind. She devised a way to try and feed him vertically, has sat up feeding him and holding him up several times, even brought me two calf sized bottle nipples so I can feed him vertically that way. This time she brought pet electrolyte solution and some stress potion seeing as he will most often regurge when excited.]

Two nights ago. We were together, but my thoughts were dwelling on Riley and this dreadful awful ugly disease that is slowly starving him. She held me close, tight, and told me I was safe; that I could let go now, that I could feel and mourn and damn-it-all-to-hell.

Suddenly, there in her arms, I opened my heart. Wide. I criedandcried. Hard. For Riley. For me. For the pack.