Missing Her Already

 I miss her already. 

My little 20 pound dog, who will turn 14 on February 5, has been in the hospital being tended to by a veterinary neurologist, for the past three days. We’re still waiting for final confirmation, but it appears very likely that she has lymphoma, a tumor in her spinal canal with cancer cells that have spread to various muscles. She finally took a small amount of soupy dog food, drank water from a bowl that was held up for her, but she still cannot use any of her legs. Her prognosis is not good. We had hoped that an injection of steroids would help shrink the tumor and help her regain some mobility, but so far that has not happened.

Given her age and my unwillingness to subject her to surgery or any kind of invasive procedures, the future does not look good. As I told the veterinarian, I have had a difficult relationship with this little dog. She has not been an easy dog, and I confess that I have been less than patient with her at times. There were times when I could swear she was pressing my buttons on purpose. I know she wasn’t, of course, but there were so many times…

Her sister died a year ago in September, so losing this dog comes far too soon.The only consolation is knowing that she and her sister will be reunited, and she will no longer be in distress, whether physical or mental. She is getting outstanding care, with the pain and anti-anxiety medications, the IV fluids and antibiotics, that support her body's efforts to strengthen.

Sadly, sometimes a body has done all it can, it has fought its best fight, and the best medical care in the world isn't enough. A friend told me to let her go. I replied that I won't let her suffer, but I won't make that final decision until the medications have had time to work. And if they don't work, then I will let her go.

Already my house seems empty, despite the presence of my other dog. When I walk into my bedroom, I reflexively look at her bed in the corner to see if she is there. I still have beds, blankets and towels spread out in the bedroom and in the living room, where I placed them for her return.

I have shared my home and my heart with 13 rescue dogs over the years. I mourn each one. Regardless of how long each is with me, it's never long enough.