I'm a Realist

Duuuuuude. There has been so much heavy, stressful stuff going on over here. If you know me at all, you know about our beloved boy Sumo. (Our fur baby.) Sumo is 12 years old. He can't hear, his vision suffers at a distance, his hips are severely arthritic, and mobility has become an issue. He slips, falls, and can't always get down from his low bed or rollover by himself. It's a heartbreaker. Now, mind you, he is still happy and wants to go to the park most days. But... oftah. We started having the hard conversation. The thing about me is that I tend to be a realist when it comes to the quality of life for pets. They are my children. (Literally, in that I never had the human kind.) I love them more than most people, and my priorities become sick-out-of-whack regarding them.

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