As I’d posted previously, Studley was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago. I opted not to pursue IV chemotherapy or immunotherapy (vaccination therapy). While they might have slowed the progress of the cancer, it would have meant a lot of unhappy car trips for my little man. He’d been losing weight drastically since January, so I wasn’t optimistic any treatment would buy him much time. We did put him on oral prednisolone (steroids) to hopefully reduce the swelling in his lymph nodes, increase his appetite and make him more comfortable.
For two weeks, the steroids helped – he was eating more and seemingly feeling better. Due to the weight loss, he was even able to do things like hop up to the back of the couch – something he hadn’t been able to do previously. However, the past week he started to deteriorate again. He lost 6 ounces. He vomited violently on Sunday. I felt we should spend one last, really nice, weekend together, and then ask the vet to help him move on. Maybe this was a selfless act on my part, wanting him to move on BEFORE he was suffering and unhappy – while he was still having relatively good days filled with sunshine and fresh air in our outdoor window encosure. Perhaps it was selfish, wanting to spare myself the agony of watching my little man die. Maybe it was both. I’m not sure.

Studley, his last weekend