DAY TO DAY…

… is how we’re approaching Dio’s life. We know he is winding down, though no singular terrible decline has occurred in the past week. It’s the small details that let us know we’re sharing days rather than months with him. He’s tired, but doesn’t seem to sleep much. He rarely speaks (and those who know him know he never stops yelling). Petting him is a delicate matter - he is nothing but fur and bones, heart and soul. His purr is getting quieter and it takes more effort to stir it up. He no longer seeks the soft comfort of beds and pillows, preferring the hardened support of the floor. He spends increased time in his bedroom, though he’s willing to be with us in the family room for an hour if we carry him there. His gymnastic prowess is lost. He no longer jumps up or down from anything. He’s not interested in eating plastic bags, floss, carpet fibers or any other loose objects lying about. After he eats, he lies down. After he drinks, he lies down. After he lies down, he lies down! His eyes are clear, but distant. I wonder what he is thinking.

We have cancelled our July 4th holiday travel plans to see Joe’s parent’s in Louisville. We cannot leave Dio as he is dying. These last moments are precious times. We are able to thank him for being a part of our lives. We try to make him comfortable, reminding him constantly that he is loved and that he doesn’t need to hold on for us. I don’t think he is in pain or suffering, but I believe his life force, despite his best efforts, is fading. As always, we will keep due vigilance to insure he does not linger into suffering and that we find the right moment for him between life and the relief of passing.