Not What I Wanted to Hear

Blitz and I went for his annual appointment with his DM specialist. He's not had any flareups over the past year and is doing so well. I fully expected him to pronounce Blitz in remission and have a glowing report.
It was not a bad report, but it certainly wasn't what I expected. Since he is a professional and an expert in this disease, he's been carefully collecting statistics on Blitz as he is one of the worst cases he's seen.
He told me Blitz has definately declined, and that the muscle wasting has increased, especially in the facial region.
I was kind of surprised, but then he kindly took me on a tour of Blitz's body, and explained his findings to me.
I was bummed. I told him I felt Blitz was doing pretty well, and did he think Blitz would live a normal-length life. Pause. I don't LIKE pauses. He replied that because of my good care, the disease has slowed way down and because of that, I've given him LOTS of extra years. He then reminded me that he only expected Blitz to live to be 2. He is now four.
Blitz isn't dying by any means. He's not even close to it. But the reality is, he may only have a few more years.
Honestly, I shouldn't be saddened by this reality: Shiloh was in raging good health and his disease struck, quite literally, overnight. He was gone by age 10. Blitz was born with a horrific case of Dermatomyocitis (we didn't know it, and it wasn't officially diagnosed as DM until 12 weeks of age) and wasn't expected to live long at all.
So, I continue to take inspiration from Blitz: he doesn't know he has a death sentence. He continues to be the happiest dog on the planet. We all don't know when our time will come to leave this earth. So do as Blitz does: wag your tail, bark with joy, and be happy.
It's all any of us can do.