Over the weekend he had some sort of episode. He was shaking, shivering, panting heavily, unable to lie or sit down, and his heart was racing. This went on for over an hour. It had happened once before for about 15 minutes or so while I was at work, but this time I was there for the whole terrifying thing. Guster seems to have gotten over it, but it made me suddenly face his mortality in a way that I haven't before. Sure, he's got lumps all over and some may be cancerous, but this felt like an immediate danger.
I love my dog and I don't want to lose him. Not yet. On the other hand, he seemed so rattled by the experience that I began to worry about his comfort level. I want to do the best and most humane thing for him when the time comes. I hugged him and told him I love him, which in the end is probably the only thing I'll be able to do. Thank goodness that time wasn't this past weekend... a fact he underscored by jumping in the bathtub (the cat's litter box is there) later that day. For once, I gave him a big "Good dog!" for that.