It’s funny how a little thing like not being able to breathe, can really slow a dog down. I sure want to run and play, but I just can’t.
The last couple of days have been hard. Although I’m eating like a horse (because of the Prednisone I’m now on), the nasty lung mets have been taking their toll on my breathing, and I’ve been hacking and coughing an awful lot.
Even an increased dosage of Prednisone didn’t really seem to keep me from panting. Robitussin doesn’t help anymore and I’ve stopped getting up to nose around, except to go to the bathroom.
Mom and Dad have been agonizing over what to do next. The “only thing” really wrong with me, is that I can’t breathe. I’m eating, I’m going potty, and I’m just as cuddly as ever.
Last night I had a hard time settling down, and coughed all night. My breathing went from bad to worse in less than 24 hours. This surprised and scared my pawrents enough to bring me to the closest town, Jackson, Wyoming, to hopefully see a vet tomorrow.