Goliath hasn't been doing well.
This has been going on for awhile now...since March.

Im doing better today because he seemed a bit better last night then he was the day before.
When we picked him up from the pet motel after the vacation, his back legs were weak.
I kept making excuses for it.
"Maybe he just didnt move around much while we were gone."
His eyes and face looked fine.
So I decided he was fine.

He didnt want to eat his kibble that night.
He has trouble getting up on the sofa with us, like he wasnt even trying to use his back legs.
We sat with him and petted him, we were happy to see him again after our vacation.
We went upstairs to go to bed, he slowly started to follow us.
He didnt even make it halfway up.
Looked really sad up at me, and then slid backwards about 3 or 4 steps.
Broke my heart.
He looked so helpless.
I told Brad what happened, and he went down and carried Goliath upstairs.
Then it hit me, that it was his cancer.
He is no longer in remission.
I watched TV trying not to think about it.
His breathing is labored. It sounds like snoring, but it isn't. It's him trying to breathe with a big lump pushing in the side of his neck.
I had trouble sleeping, and just kept crying.
I was trying to stop, so I didnt tell Brad about it, and just kept it quiet.
The next morning he had diarrhea.
I sat with him in the kitchen, petting him, kissing his head, telling him that I loved him and crying. I felt like this was going to be his last week with me. It still might be.
Since he wasn't eating I opened up a stinky can of dog food, he ate 1/2. He sounded like he had trouble breathing while eating, he was loud.

Brad got up early. The dog was on his mind too. He got up to check on him, and sat downstairs with him. He told me the dog seemed a bit better. Still over sized lumps, labored breathing, diarrhea, lack of appetite...but a little more light in his eyes, a little more strength in his back legs.

Last night he even jumped up on the bed by himself once.
But I think it wore him out. He tried again later after jumping off to check on Brad, and he couldnt. I tried cheerleading him, but then left him alone. I think it made him sick in his stomach, cause he puked up a bunch of unchewed dog food he inhaled still fully intact.
He laid on the bed while Brad cleaned it up. I pet his head, giving him kisses on his face.
Brad spent a lot of time yesterday cleaning up pee, puke and diarrhea.

He didnt eat his breakfast at all this morning. I tried holding the bowl for him, he cowered away from it, not interested.

Brad said he gets all choked up too, thinking about bringing him to the vet for the last time. We have had some time since he first got cancer, and knew his time would be limited. Time for us to prepare. But you just cant prepare. My jaw hurt Monday from gritting my teeth from trying to stop getting weepy at work. My throat hurt from choking it back. I just wanted to ignore it. Talk to other people about themselves, keep busy to keep my mind off of it.

No more chemo, no more surgeries. Only the daily pills we have been giving him.

His time is very limited. I keep looking at old pictures I have taken of him. The good times we had. I'm not ready to give them up.

I felt angry after work yesterday. Road rage. Wanted to run people over and yell.

Our house will be so empty without him. Im so used to him being at the foot of our bed. Feeling his whiskers on the back of my legs following me from room to room. Cuddling with us in bed. Always happy to see us.

Im getting really good at crying without making any noises.