You probably don't want to read this.

I'm serious. This is Buddy's mom writing. He is eating (finally-which is now an every other day occurance) and I am hijacking his blog. So if you came for funny stories about how I finally figured out the reason he won't eat his kong is that I accidentally bought plain yogurt instead of vanilla, and it's sour and not appetizing-or the only reason I figured this out is that I finally tasted it....from the kong. Stop reading. Seriously. I need to vent and this is where I am doing it.
I am doing it here, because if I say any of this to anyone else I will get that knowing look. You know the one. The one that says "I knew you bit off more than you could chew." "It's just a dog, let it go." That look. I am doing it here, so that when I am done I can put on my brave face and tell the world I am conquering this mountain, and all that silver lining, rainbows, red roses crap. So, I warned you. Stop reading. Buddy will be back tomorrow -and I am sure he will make fun of me in some hilarious fashion, because as you all know he is much smarter than me. And while he indulges me, he also mocks. In his sweet 6lbs way.
....
I don't know what I am doing. I am freaking out. Freaking. out. Did I do the right thing? It took him forever to recover from his last surgery. He was timid and clingy and not at all the terror we knew. We had resigned ourselves to the fact that he might have become a lapdog, and that was fine. Then, this summer. Wow this summer. He was back!! With his zoomies, and stealing his brother's bones, and attacking the sheets. The crazy was back, and it was awesome. And the timing sucked. Because almost immediately, his last eye blew.
And I agonized over it. But I never doubted that he needed this surgery, and he would get this surgery, and he would be fine. Only he's not fine. Not even in the same county as fine. He is so depressed and I don't know what to do. I am his mom, I should fix it right? Only I can't. I try so hard, and my husband tries. My husband who indulges my love of dogs, but also thinks I might be a little crazy, tries. He actually has full blown conversations with the dog now. Crazy right? So not like him, but he tries for me, and for Buddy, and for him-because he loves him. And Maxim has given Buddy his toys, so he is trying too. God, it feels like we are all trying except Buddy. Only we can't make him try because lets face it, you can't make a terrier do anything.
So he lays around....all darn day. The dog that used to refuse to be in a room alone will lay on the couch for hours, even when you cook. Even when it's steak. C'mon steak?? Get off the couch for steak, man!
Last night he sneezed and it must have hurt like the dickens because I have NEVER heard him scream like that. Imagine stepping on a chihuahua, then magnify by 10 and make it last for hours (ok, it wasn't hours, a minute maybe. But for me, eternity.) And I can't fix it. I don't know what I am doing, and I don't think I am good enough for this poor sweet boy who only wants to give kisses and smell flowers. Only now he doesn't even give kisses. Not even if you stick your face right in front of his nose. Not even if you JUST ate peanut butter.
I am not a dog trainer. I am not a dog whisperer. I am not even a graduate of obedience classes. I am just a dog lover trying to do the best thing for my boys. Only I cannot figure out the best thing. I am soooo scared that I am putting him through hell, and he doesn't understand why. And he hates me for it. The vets, the specialists, the internet all said dogs recover quickly. They don't need sight, they adjust fast. People sometimes don't even know their dog is blind. Liars. Big fat dirty liars. My dog knows....and he is pissed!
Basically that's it. I feel like a failure, I feel like Buddy gave up. Only he can't give up. Because I said so.
Anyway, if you read this sorry. But I warned you.