Well, the old boy is on the clock. He has a mass on his liver that is getting bigger- along with other tumors all over the place. He's managed it with medication for awhile, but on Monday he got where he couldn't move. Took him in to confirm the mass hadn't burst and was bleeding internally, and the ultrasound confirmed it had not. But bloodwork has elevated white bloodcell counts and it's just a matter of time. We have him on more medication than most assisted living places dole out. He has a little more pep in him, but he has slowed waaay down. Surgery at 11+years old for a 100+ lb lab is not reall ypractical. If he survived, he might not physically recover, so that does him no good. So comfort is the by word. But when it appears he is not longer comfortable, I won't keep him alive for me. But it will fucking kill me to say goodbye. I have the "gifts of peace" home pet euthanasia folks on speed dial, so we can do it at home. Fuck, I'm choked up typing this. He fucking means the world to me. unlike any animal I've ever owned, and it's not close.