The question of the month. I can’t even imagine counting how many times I’ve been asked this question in the past month. And my heart is grateful to every single person who’s asked. So, how IS Knox?
Knox is skinny, lethargic and sick. He’s sicker than I’ve ever imagined he could be. So sick that sometimes I start preparing for the worst. But smart and supportive friends have said to just take it one day at a time. He’s got two weeks (well, 10 days at this point) to turn a corner.
I know he’s fighting hard. Really hard. And so are we. Our boy has gone from a jubilant, energetic boy who would amaze everyone with his speed after a tennis ball…from my running partner, an entertainer for each foster dog that came through the door…a great big muscle-y lug head; to skin and bones. He gets up only to go for a quick walk or to eat (thank goodness he has continued to do that…). He’s lost what little fat he had before, and we suspect a whole lot of muscle (thank you, prednizone). His spine, hip bones, ribs and shoulder blades protrude.
Will he get better?
We have no flippin’ idea. It’s been an emotional roller coaster to say the least. Some days I accept that 5 weeks on medications and no progress means, he’s done. Then I really think about it… and how is that possible? Just over Christmas he was his normal, happy, (sometimes over) excited self. In just a few weeks he’s turned into a different dog. He’s sad; he’d prefer not to cuddle when before, you had to warn guests that a 68lb pile of love would most likely attempt to sit on your lap. Of course we give him his space…most of the time.This boy is loved, that’s for sure. And not just by us… and that is comforting on some level. But the truth is, we just wish there was an answer.
If there is no improvement by February 10th, we’ll probably cut him off his meds and let fate take it’s course. It may sound horrible (it certainly does to me), but I refuse to string him along for no reason, not to mention waste thousands of dollars to keep him alive for my own personal benefit. This is not him. If he starts getting better, I’d risk my arm to make sure he improves, but if he doesn’t? Keeping him alive, barely…who is that serving? Certainly we love him too much to be that selfish…we love him way too much.