Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Zoe the Dog


My dog of 12 years is dying. She has cancer, at the very least, of the liver. Two months ago I took her in for a rabies shot. The vet, feeling something in her abdomen, told me we should operate immediately. During the surgery he called me (I was across the parking lot, at Old Navy, looking at turtlenecks as though they mattered) and offered to just "put her down" then and there, having seen the cancer.

More than a month later, and two weeks ago, he told me again it was time. I didn't listen and have had two more weeks with her. Yesterday we went for a long walk at the Biltmore Estate.

This morning she is lying on my bed, warm and cozy.
Every night I say good-bye to her, and then in the middle of the night I wake and reach my foot over the blankets to feel her breathing. I want to cancel everything I have to do today just so I can sit with her, walk with her, talk to her. I know she'd get tired of me, though, and, as she often does, she'd get up from wherever we were and move to someplace else.

1 comment:

David Weir said...

I am so sorry for what you are going through. Dogs are such empathic creatures. They look into our eyes and sense our emotions. I am sure Zoe appreciates that you support her during this ordeal.