Every year around the holidays, it seems we have a sick pet that has to be put to sleep. It’s almost become a “normal” part of our lives. Call it Jones’ Law.

Willow’s FIP (Feline Infectious Peritonitis) is entering another stage, and although she still eats, drinks and seems to feel good most of the time, her breathing has become somewhat labored. She needs some help from the vet, probably a steroid shot, which we will definitely do to ease her symptoms. Unfortunately though, it’s just putting off the inevitable. FIP is a terminal disease and this is just one of the phases. I won’t allow her to suffer when I realize she’s at that point.

Yesterday morning, for no apparent reason, Wylie’s nose started bleeding. I’ve never seen this in a dog. He was fine and playing all day yesterday, but this morning he was very lethargic and wouldn’t eat. He even spit out his treats. I couldn’t even get him to drink. Really upsetting.

Still, he perked up right before we left for work. I gave him his Pupcorn again, which he ate this time, then we let him outside. Randy will be coming home to check on him mid-morning, and I’ll have a look at how he’s doing when I come home for lunch.

I’ve decided that after these three have gone over the Rainbow Bridge, I’m out of the animal business. It hurts too much to lose them, and although we spoil our animals to the Nth degree, it doesn’t seem to help them live any longer lives. In fact, most of our pets’ lives have been cut short at an early age. It makes no sense. All this, plus the holidays, plus work stress…it’s just too much.