Friday, March 21, 2008

Saying goodbye

My dog Molly had an emergency on Wednesday of last week. I lost her Thursday afternoon. After a sonogram, Dr. Roger Knighton called with the bad news: She had an 8-inch diameter tumor in her heart and large tumors in her abdomen and below her lumbar. They were "leaking," as he called it, which was causing her to bleed out and filling her eyes with blood (thus her sudden blindness). The cancer was systemic and too far advanced to treat. Her breathing was becoming increasingly labored with each hour that passed. She was always stoic, which made it difficult to tell when she didn't feel well, but I am looking back and agonizing over signs I may have missed. Since then, though, I've learned that with hemangiosarcoma -- an aggressive, malignant tumor of blood vessel cells -- early detection is difficult. I'm thankful that I opted to take her home with me from the clinic Wednesday evening for what turned out to be her last night, then returning her for more tests and a sonogram the next morning. When the vet called to tell me that her breathing was becoming even more laborious, I jumped in my Jeep with Rosy, Molly's look-a-like pal and constant companion for seven years, and headed to the clinic. Once there, Molly buried her head in the crook of my elbow and I talked quietly to her. She couldn't see me, but she knew it was me. To read rest of story, go to: Saying Goodbye

1 comment:

CC said...

Cathy, I hope these next few days and weeks are filled with good memories as you work through your loss. I had to put down my wife's cat that she had for over a decade, and it was strange how moving it was for me to be with her as she passed away. I never was too fond for the cat, but I'll cherish being with her since.