Sick as a dog.

My stomach is in knots tonight - perhaps if there weren't several things hammering on my heart it wouldn't feel so sickening. But the sad, whimpering, helpless puppy next to me curled up on the "boat blanket" on the couch just breaks my heart. He won't eat. He can't walk. He has two bandaged bloody feet that I really think are the least of his problems. He twitches and shakes like he has a palsy of some kind. I had to carry him outside (no small feat) to go potty because he couldn't walk to the door. He can't tell me anything, but keeps turning his sad brown eyes my direction as if to say "Help me, Mom. You're the nurse around here." I know he likes to be cuddled and have his ears stroked, so that's about all I can do for him. I did give him an aspirin, thinking that if I could keep him away from chewing on the bloody feet, at least the rest of him might feel better. I wonder if his stomach feels like mine. Empty. There's no way a morsel of food would stay down tonight. Or even make its way down. Pray for Lucky puppy. He is, after all, 98 years old, but I just don't want him to hurt or feel scared. Even Snickers knows something's up - she's hovering around him like she has a job to do. If God takes him, I can accept that, but please oh God, make it be painless. And please tell me all good dogs go to heaven. I know You're hurting, too -2 Corinthians 1:7. Wow.
No tea tonight - won't go down.