Well, things are still moving along . . .

Bob is doing okay, but he's definately NOT himself. I'm not sure if he's trying to get over the trauma of all the tests he went through over the weekend, or if this is the reality of his existance until the inevitable happens.

The one thing I'm really bummed about is that the WONDERFUL doctor who was helping us is not on-call at the hospital this week. I can't tell you how sweet, helpful, and caring she was. Especially since we didn't really get a lot of answers (even though I found out his liver is in bad shape) and she did have to tell me that there was a good chance this was cancer.

I can't stand what he's going through . . . and it's even harder to watch.

My heart breaks for those who have to go through this with a human family member, because all this is breaking my heart.

If his appetite doesn't come back in a week, I'm going to have to put him down.

God, this is hard . . .