This is so hard

Mack the Wonder Dog is getting old.

This is, of course, to be expected.

But since his diagnosis of diabetes, he's been facing more and more challenges. First the diabetic neurapathy, making his hips weaker. He's still drinking a lot, as we struggle to stabilize his blood glucose. Sometimes he wakes a person up in the night to go out and pee. Sometimes he wakes people two and three times a night, and I tell you, standing in the rain in just a t-shirt at 3 am waiting for my elderly dog to finish in the yard is not my idea of a great time. And for the last couple of days, we've realized that his sight is going. Apparently diabetes can speed the formation of cataracts, which he already has.

Now the vet is telling me to buy a harness to help him go downstairs -- we live on the first floor of a house, up a flight of stairs front and back -- as he's afraid because he can't see the step under his feet.

I'm growing very weary. Nothing seems bad enough to say, "Enough!" but it adds up to a sad twilight with this fine, and truly noble, dog. He doesn't seem to bee too pained, just sort of foggy.

It's just hard. I don't want to be the grownup. I don't want to carry him into the vet because he won't go where he can't see. I don't want to worry about him all the time. I don't want to be the one who has to make the final call. Sarafina wants a puppy, and when I say versions of "Over my dead body," it's not only the thought of all the work a puppy makes, and the idea of the freedom of a non-dog life. I also (I realized today) don't want to do this part again. It's just too hard.