Part II: I have two jobs now; I didn’t know caretaking for a senior dog would be this hard.
This is the first part of how our mornings go now that Jernee is no longer fully independent. She cannot hear. She cannot see. She is losing her faculties and is not truly aware of where she is and what to do.
Being a watchdog for your dog is crazy work, but I eagle-eye her like a hawk, trying my best to keep her safe and to comfort her. The facial expressions she wears now are a combination of confused, lost, sad, and frustrated. My baby girl rarely looks excited, happy, and free these days.
This is the video I cannot watch without breaking down; without losing my cool and feeling like a partial failure because of what’s happening to her. Logically, I know I am not at fault. I know this is God’s plan. We all have to make our grand exit off of this plane and onto the next, but tell that to my heart.
I don’t get much sleep. She wakes up at random hours during the night in a mild state of confusion, or she wants to go outside to potty, or it’s a combination of both.
When she’s whining, I know she’s confused, and she simply needs to be calmed down, so I soothe her and put her in the bed with me. Those moments are the hardest.
I have had to find new ways to keep her safe while I’m at home because if she cannot sense my presence, she will run around our apartment frantically until she can. If she knows I’m at home, she wants me near her, no questions about it.
Taking this into consideration and knowing I do not want her to injure herself, I place her bed we use for sitting outside on our balcony, in the kitchen and bathrooms so she can be around me. Wild, right?!
Yes, you may be saying to yourself, “Why are you doing this?!” But if you witness how terrified Jernee is when she knows I am home and she doesn’t sense me, you would understand.
When I do this, there is peace in our home. She isn’t whining. She isn’t terrified and panting from searching throughout our apartment for me. She isn’t alone. She knows Mommy isn’t too far away, and that comforts her.
And as long as she is comfortable and in a peaceful state, then I can be “right as rain.”
Please do not let anyone tell you that caring for a senior dog who is declining is easy. I am bearing witness and living through it, and can testify that it is not. It is a labor of love, and a multitude of patience should be in tow.
If you cannot love and you are not patient, do not become a dog owner. Eventually, you will have to endure the inevitable, and they deserve people who will walk calmly and lovingly alongside them toward the end.
Part I
A Cornered Gurl 
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