I had a dream we got a call from the vet saying he'd woken back up after the euthanasia and was doing better.

Sure enough, when I got home from work they'd brought him home and he was alive, the cancer was smaller, and he could mostly walk.

I got to hold him again

But of course I woke up and I was afraid to look at his blanket because I knew he wouldn't really be there.

Sure enough, I'm a gross sobbing mess.

Face is red and swollen, I'm clinging to a box of tissues, and thanking good karma or something for having my work day cut in half

(slow day, not going in until 4pm-close)

me an extra six hours to sit on my couch and cry with a smile on my face as I look at old pictures of Casey.

I still keep having audio-visual hallucinations

I'm not taking this well.

I know that I did the best I could to help him and keep him comfortable.

And I know that he had cancer, partial blindness and deafness, and weakness and paralysis that comes from being a dachshund with prior

back injuries.

There was nothing more that I- or anyone -could have done better.

I know I've been humbled by it. That feeling of powerlessness knowing I can't fight cancer or old age or nerve damage.

But god damn do I wish I could.