This morning, around 10:30, I petted my Sassy-girl for what is almost certainly the very last time. She has a tumor on her neck that has grown from a small knot to the size of a golf ball in just a matter of weeks. She's in otherwise perfect health, but with a tumor growing that fast, it's almost certainly malignant. Mom and Dad will be taking her to vet soon, whenever they can manage to muster up enough resolve to do the hardest thing in the world. We're pretty sure that she will not come home.
I know she's fourteen and a half, which is something like 100 years old in dog years, and she has certainly slowed down in the past year, but she's still so full of life! It's just killing me to know that we're almost certainly going to have to have her put down within the next few weeks.
We got Sassy about nine months after my mom passed away. She's been my healing salve, and she's always been the reason I looked forward to going home. Yes, I love my parents, but I can talk to them anytime.
Please pray for my family and me. We're all struggling, even Mom, who's always pretended to be indifferent to Sassy. She's been the smartest and most "human" dog our family has ever had, and we don't want to say good-bye.
I don't want to go back to that house without her running out to greet me. It could never feel like home.
I hate good-byes. I hate, hate, hate them!