When to know when.

...I've been waiting for "the sign" from Chip and Todd both that their bodies are uninhabitable any longer...has it been received? I don’t know.

Todd has been losing his balance more, seems more anxious, and has become more and more restless.

I've been awake since 3 a.m. with Chip. He woke up abruptly, jumped out of bed, and was quickly pacing back and forth. His breathing was heavy and he was whimpering. Mild seizure, and - to my knowledge- his first.

I leapt out of bed and rushed to his side; speaking to him calmly. Holding and comforting him. He eventually settled, so I grabbed his cooling pad, got him to lay on it, snatched my pillow and a blanket, and curled up beside him. About an hour later, Todd awoke and was pacing under the covers (he's always been a "burrower" and under-cover-next-to-mom sleeper), so I climbed back in bed to help him settle. Chip eventually got back up on the bed and assumed his spot of the last 11 years on the pillow beside me; but by the time everyone got fully settled, the birds were starting to chirp outside the window....seemingly louder than usual.

So, we started our day. When Chip hopped off the bed, he made a noise and had a repeat of the 3 am episode. Another mild seizure. And he didn't finish his breakfast this morning for the first time in his life.

I'm so exhausted. They're so exhausted. And we've all been hanging on with all our might for so long now.

I've been trying to craft a plan. Something that feels really comfortable for all of us. Something that would honor the amazingness these dogs are/were, and would also reflect this in their departure. However, I keep coming up empty. This has been another big stress.

"Lap of Love" has come highly recommended, but my experience with them has not been so great. They've been unresponsive, have seriously lacked any level of warmth or compassion the few times they have responded, and any communication has been very short and not helpful at all.

I also contacted a few other vets who perform in-home euthanasia appt's. Some charging astronomically high prices. I'm still waiting to hear back from one.

The most disheartening thing about my experience with all of this is finding someone who feels like they genuinely care and have empathy for what is going on. Most have advertised offering a "warm and compassionate" approach... when this has not been my experience. If anything, it's been a cold, detached, "business-as-usual" energy. I understand the emotional toll vets- and even their staff- go through on the other side of things, as well, but...

This morning I called the conventional vet clinic I always recommend to clients (I believe it's wise to have both a conventional - sick care- and an integrative vet - health care- in our back pocket), Burke Animal Clinic.... and the woman, God love her, was an angel. She offered space for me to cry, to "sensi-cate" everything, and give her the whole rundown. She helped me to weigh everything and figure out some options. She listened to me voice my concerns, fears, "goals", and is helping me get a plan together. Deeply, deeply thankful. If we go through with this, Monday is the day. ... I just hope the seizures don't increase and Chip can hang on until then.

As I sit here and type, Chip is resting peacefully but his breathing is short and very quick. He's been panting more, licking more to offset the pain and stress, and I know is not comfortable. His beautiful little chocolate body is showing more and more evidence of the "beast" growing inside of him. I'm still amazed he did so well as long as he did, all considering. He's been battling this since last August.

Little Todd is curled up against his bum in his morning "coma" (the one time of day, outside of nightly sleep, he rests and doesn't pace; he has patterns with his pacing and his resting). Although Todd may not necessarily know where he is, what he's doing, or who he is, he remembers his pack (...and mealtime). And, especially these last weeks, he's never too far from Chip.

Words cannot even begin to describe how much Chip and Todd mean to me, how much they all do. This has been so difficult. So **unbelievably** difficult to navigate, and nothing short of a total roller coaster.

I've been watching them both so closely each day while trying to maximize their moments and keep them uber comfortable at the same time. Every second has been treasured.

I wish Nature would've taken its course and Chip would've decided on his own that his body has become too much for him to continue living in, but it's becoming more and more apparent I need to intervene. ..... we've both been hanging on so tightly. And finding the right kind of help, and a plan that feels good (well, as good as it can) has been stressful and less than fruitful.

Life is about to become drastically different. It's been haunting me for weeks. 5 will become 3. And although Franklin has enough personality to take the place of 20 dogs, the house will feel eerily empty.

Anyone who may be thinking "it's just a dog" likely hasn't had the extraordinary gift or privilege of sharing such a special bond with one. Each are so very cherished members of my family; especially these two. There just aren't any words to describe this type of pain.