This morning at 4:00, I heard him in the hallway. His breathing is getting worse. Have you ever heard a Pug breathe? That's what he sounds like. A Pug.
It's fine when he's sleeping, but it's getting more labored when he's awake. The drugs aren't helping. I've been syringe feeding him for two weeks now, he will eat a little on his own (and this makes me really happy), but he doesn't eat enough to stay alive. I'm feeding him with the hope that his body will fight off what's going on.
But it's starting to become obvious that the doxycycline isn't working, the allergy med isn't working and the l-lysine isn't working.
Brian told me this morning that he's feeling this hard breathing in Opie's chest when he holds him.
We're thinking that something is growing where it shouldn't be. A polyp? He's had problems with his ears for over a year. It's possible. If it is something growing, he's not well enough for surgery.
The optimist in me thinks if I just try hard enough, he'll pull through. The realist is starting to be louder than the optimist.
I'll be surprised if he's still with us by the end of the month. I sat with him in the sun this morning, holding him in my lap and arms. He purred. But he's having a really hard time.
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