Everyone, Dog is Sick😭💔🐶🙏
Everyone, I have some tough news. Dog is sick.
Not the kind of “ate-too-many-treats” sick or “rolled-in-something-foul” sick. This time, it’s real. The kind of sick that makes your heart race and your brain scramble for answers. The kind where you stop everything, kneel down next to your best friend, and suddenly feel helpless.
It started a few days ago. Dog, usually the first one to greet me with a wagging tail and a joyful bounce, just stayed curled up in the corner of the couch. I called out, jingled his leash, even said the word “walk,” which usually sends him into orbit. Nothing. Just a slow blink. His eyes, always so full of personality and spark, looked tired.
At first, I tried to downplay it. “Maybe it’s just a cold,” I told myself. “He probably overdid it at the park.” But by the next morning, his food bowl was untouched, and when he tried to get up, his legs wobbled. That’s when the panic hit.
We rushed to the vet. Dog leaned against me in the backseat, resting his head in my lap. He wasn’t whining or crying—he never does—but his silence said everything. The vet ran some tests. Bloodwork, x-rays, that gentle probing touch they use when they know something’s wrong. And when the vet looked up, I knew by her face before she said a word.
“We’re concerned about his liver. It’s inflamed, and his numbers are off. We’ll need to monitor him and run more tests.”
I didn’t even realize I was crying until Dog lifted his head and licked the tears off my cheek. Even sick, even tired, even scared, he was comforting me. That’s who Dog is. Loyal beyond measure. Selfless. Always putting everyone else first.
And now, he needs us.
Everyone who knows Dog knows he’s more than a pet. He’s the heartbeat of this house. He’s the unofficial therapist, the greeting committee, the sous chef (especially when food hits the floor), the alarm clock, and the comic relief. He’s the best listener, the keeper of secrets, and the one who never judges. He’s family.
So yes, Dog is sick. But he’s not alone. He has us. And we’re going to fight for him with everything we have. Special meals, vet visits, medicine schedules—whatever it takes. If love could heal him instantly, he’d be doing backflips in the yard already.
To everyone who’s sent a message, asked about him, or dropped off a treat—thank you. Truly. Your kindness means the world, and I know Dog feels it too.
Right now, he’s curled up next to me again, breathing softly, tail giving the tiniest wag every time I speak. He’s not himself yet, but he’s still here. Still fighting. Still our Dog.
So please, keep him in your thoughts. Send a little love his way. Whisper a good memory of him. Post a picture if you’ve got one. Because he’s touched so many lives just by being himself, and now it’s our turn to send all of that love right back.
