Ella

It's been a bit rocky around here. For several months Ella has been battling a persistent ear infection. We've tried just about everything to clear it up, and finally two weeks ago I was delighted to flip her ear open and discover a clean ear.

But last week she started refusing her pills, which she normally looks forward to with unmitigated exuberance. For most of her life she would greet her loved ones, new friends, and food with a lusty woo-woo-woo. A couple years ago her singing morphed into a few old-lady croaks here and there, and they were mostly for her morning pills.

She's been refusing her pills and stopped eating for a few days, before we landed on a way to get her to eat a bit. Robert has been dumping clumps of canned food into his palm, which goes against everything she's learned about not licking humans ever, and probably why she's enjoying it so much. But she's also struggling even more than usual to stand up and walk. We've consulted our vet , and because Ella is not in any apparent pain and still gives us a wag here and there, we've been told to continue our wait.

She will be 13 in less than two weeks and is slipping away. We've been spending more time than usual burying our faces in her thick coat, coaxing her to eat, helping her get outside, and waiting. When Rose passed away it was quick, we were horribly ill with the flu, and it felt like a suffocating fog that eventually lifted. This is radically different. I find myself waking in the middle of the night so I can place my hand over her heart. I lift her gums, check for pink, and tell her I've got her back no matter what. If she needs to go, I'll miss her but can find a way to stand up to the spiders on my own.

I don't think she believes me, and perhaps she's waiting too. Waiting for me to prove I can make it without her. 

I'll keep everyone posted.