The first sign of trouble was about 2 weeks ago when he stopped eating. We took him to the vet, where they took tests and x-rays, and then a sonogram. The sonogram showed a mass in his small intestine and then a biopsy proved it to be cancer.
He is now on Prednisone, which I give him with water through a dropper, as he won't eat. Well, we've managed to tempt him with ham twice in the last two weeks, but he isn't much interested most of the time.
The vet says he could have anywhere from a month to who-knows. I've cried my eyes out and Mike is very sad, too. He says this is why he doesn't like having pets.
I have decided that, as much as possible, I'm going to enjoy what we have left with this little guy rather than wasting time on worry and grief. Every time he eats, every time he runs after a squirrel or barks when the doorbell rings, it is a moment of hope. I know we'll lose him eventually, I just didn't expect it to happen for another four or five years.
He was actually overweight so that helped him as he has lost a lot. Now he feels like a puppy when I pick him up.
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