Poor Sammy is really breaking my heart. I'm sure that he's dying, but he's such a little fighter. He insists on trying to take himself places, even though he falls over every 3rd step and its not easy to right himself anymore. Often he has to struggle for a minute at a time, just windmilling those back feet trying to get a hold on solid ground.I gave up trying to help him up because he only falls over again unless he does it himself.
It's so hard. On one hand I feel like maybe we just extended his misery, making him struggle like this until he dies. But he's such a kind creature, he fights so hard to live, that he must want to.
And the way he looks at me! His own mother has become rather wary of him, and even sometimes feeds the others in places he can't go, so I take him around and make sure he gets some food, and I protect him from his stupid brothers and sisters who think he's playing when he's struggling to right himself, and I try to make his brief stay on earth a little more tolerable. Even though it takes him 20 minutes, if I change rooms he follows me so he can sit by my foot. He's just to sweet of a being.
On a different note, I'm feeling extra shitty today. My glands are still swolen, and for some reason yesterday was motivation central, so I spent all day running around and cleaning, which translates into stiff, sore, and icky today. But the house is clean, the fridge is full, and I gathered up enough money for another bag.
At least there is some foreign official ripping Bush a new one. Awesome.
