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My dog has cancer.

We actually found out about a week ago. She hadn't been eating, which for her was definately a sign that something was wrong, and it turns out that she has a huge tumor in her chest cavity that's putting pressure on her stomach. It hasn't spread to any of her vital organs, but she doesn't have much time left.

It hasn't really sunk in for me yet, I guess. Our first dog (or rather, the first dog I was around for) had to be put down when I was four. I remember crying and crying and being furious with my parents because she (the dog) had just come home from the vet a day or two before. My parents tell me that I hid in my room and absolutely refused to come out. I didn't go with my Dad to say goodbye to her.

With our current dog, Ginger (an 8 year old Yellow Lab), we had been having suspicions about her health for a few weeks prior to her diagnosis, so I guess it was less of a shock to me when we found out than when I was four. Still, I feel like I should be more upset than I am.

We put her on this medcine that basically keeps her perky and comfortable, but she was appearantly allergic to one componant of the perscription. There were a couple of days when she was having sneezing fits. Now, when you imagine it, that's a pretty funny image, but I felt so sorry for her. She was having full-fledged allergy attacks after a while and one day it got so bad that, thinking that she was going to explode right in front of me (she was on her back; it was the only position that she could breath well in), I made her swallow an antihistamine.

Luckily, it was the right thing to do (at the time, I figured she couldn't get worse, but I was worried about giving her medcation for humans). That moment, when she was on her back, legs in the air, wheezing, sneezing and blinking painfully at me through puffy, bloodshot eyes, I got the closest I've come to really greiving. I cried a little and sat with her until the pill kicked in; I was almost certian that she was going to suffocate right then and there. I'm going to miss her like hell.

Since we stopped giving her the stuff she was allergic to, she hasn't had any more attacks, but without the happy pills, it's a lot more obvious that she's dying. She's as healthy as a cancerous canine can be, but she's dragging a little. She still comes to greet me at the door, but instead of tackling me, she just sort of stands there. Of couse, she still wags her tail.

cry