#euthanasia mention

William has had 2 seizures in the 15 minutes.

His heart murmur is much worse than it was 2 weeks ago, and we're running bloodwork now.

He's battling infection somewhere, and I'm wondering if his dental has caused a carditis.

Basically, we are waiting and doing bandaid solutions for pain at this point. I’m saving for an MRI, and insurance should cover MRI/surgery if required in January, so I’m trying to manage the best I can for as long as I can. He’s getting weaker despite conditioning work and being active. He went in for a Full Body Tune Up ™️ at work and got injections in his hips, LS, and psoas, shockwave in those spots, and Pennhip and ultrasound for further diagnostic. His hips are actually really good(tightest 5% for pyrsheps) and no big red flags on the ultrasound that we didn’t expect. We basically narrowed everything down to LS/neurological involvement, with no other major pain source pointing to primary pain. Leading theory is occult tethered cord syndrome.

We’ve stopped having any competition goals for sports, but he’s still able to enjoy training for obedience and agility so we’re pursuing that until he says he can’t. Unfortunately he becomes quite aggressive when painful so that is a constant gauge of what we can live with and manage and what is not. If he was to get more painful and aggressive I will move up our plans for diagnostic and treatment because euth would be the only other realistic option.

QOL wise he’s maintaining my criteria at this point. Though he’s on rest right now to recover from injections and would like everyone to know his life SUCKS and he’s ABUSED.

So that’s where we’re at. If you’re interested in seeing more of his movement/symptoms I’d be happy to post videos and talk about it.

Enjoy a Wet Boy for reading along

With Pom Pom feet

Reminder that bodily autonomy is a human right and the autonomy and personal decisions of disabled people do not have any less weight just because they're coming from someone with a disability. Do not ignore disabled people just because they're disabled.

Disabled people deserve rights.

The right to say no to a procedure.

The right to ask for alternatives.

The right to forgive or not forgive.

The right to persue charges. (ex. robbery)

The right to choose medical euthanasia.

The right to appoint a specific decision maker for when you may, in the future, be unable to consent yourself.

The right to NOT persue charges. (ex. hate crime)

The right to develop a personality of your own.

The right to be in a relationship with someone.

The right to choose an abortion.

The right to disagree with caretakers.

The right to choose herbal medicine.

The right to express yourself.

These are all decisions that the person should be able to make. INCLUDING someone who is disabled, if they are physically able to do so. And while I doubt this post will ever do anything, I hope it makes someone think twice about how they treat someone under their care.

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Some ideas for Pokémon affected/made by the Instrumentalist (intentionally or otherwise). Inspired by Broken Teeth and the other Instrument spirits bound to his command.

115

CW/TW: pet whump, BBU/WRU, euthanasia mention, Facility mention

He didn’t mean to.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep in her arms, in their bed, in the master bedroom. He’d been so tired, every muscle sore and aching from the night before, and their bed was so soft. Her hands stroking his brow were so soothing. So comforting.

He didn’t meant to still be there when the front door opened, when the bedroom door banged opened.

They both sit upright, hair disheveled, clothes in disarray, under the owner’s angry gaze. 115 rolls out of the bed, and falls to the floor, prostrating himself at the owner’s feet.

“I’m sorry, sir, so sorry.” He repeats it like a chant.

“Dear, we were just cuddling.” She presses her body against the owner, trying to distract him.

“Whores, both of you.”

“Dear, it will never happen again.”

“You’re right. It won’t.”

He tries to make himself as small as possible in the trunk. He tries not to think about the warehouse, and the fighting Dogs.

He thinks about the Facility, 
about a small room tiled in white, fulled with relentless white light, never dark, never safe. He thinks of the disappointment of his Handlers. Back again? Oh, 115.

He thinks of the Drip, its cold rushing through his veins, taking away his memories, rendering him ready for another refurbishment.

He thinks of loss, and mourns while he can.

“Out.”

He sees tears running down her face when he obeys. It’s not a Facility, or a processing branch that they stopped at. It’s not the warehouse.

“Please, sir,” he tries agin.

“Save it, whore.” The leash snaps on.

They enter the building.

“I’d like to surrender this pet,” the owner says to the receptionist.

Then he knows. Shelter. He’s being surrendered, discarded, not even given the mercy of the Drip.

“Please, dear,” she begs, “somewhere else. Not a kill shelter.”

“Hush,” the owner says, and she falls silent.

He listens to his number and designation, training, all the facts needed for intake.

“Reason for surrender?”

“Recalcitrance. Disobedience.”

His stomach lurches. He’s a bad pet. No one wants him. No one will want him.

The owner asks for a private room, “to say their goodbyes”.

“Last chance. Say whatever you want.”

She kisses him, long and sweet, for the first and the last time, and when it ends hot tears run down his cheeks, too. She whispers, “I love you” in his ear.

“I won’t forget you,” she says aloud.

“That’s enough, darling. Go back to the car. There’s a pet shelter down a road a bit. I’ll get you a cat to keep you company.”

“Yes, dear.” And she obeys.

The owner steps very close to him, and he catches his breath, expecting a kick, a slap.

But it’s worse than that.

“She will forget you,” the owner says. “I’ll make sure of it. I’ll send her back to WRU for a full wipe, and she won’t remember ever knowing you.”

115 is still sobbing when the shelter worker comes to take him to the kennels.