Well. Here we are. Max is clearly suffering from doggie dementia. He doesn’t seem to be in pain, his appetite is still good, and he’s still mobile.
We think he’s 15 or so now, which is a good long run for a cocker spaniel. It’s hard to know when the right time to help a pup over the rainbow bridge, but we’re starting to wonder.
We have him in belly bands while he’s inside. We are hyper vigilant; when his nails hit the floor, we know we probably need to get him outside. Even at 3:00 am. That’s especially difficult for the light sleeper (me).
We have to go outside and bring him in regularly now, as he doesn’t always come to the door and ask to be let back in. He will stand on the deck, seemingly unsure of where to go; not actively sniffing the world as he might in the past.
He’s never been overly demonstrative, but he would come find me in my office while I was working, and snooze contentedly. Yesterday, he paced circles for nearly an hour while I was on a call, never laying down for more than a minute.
[Update: Quality of Life check on Tuesday. In November, the vet said he likely had “months”. It is months later.
I strongly feel it isn’t fair to Max to wait until he is in pain, or doesn’t want to eat, or is immobile. But finding that balance is emotionally difficult. Heck, it’s intellectually difficult as well)]
This photo is from our RV trip to Port Aransas last week.
