I had plans for this month. Really get into the blogging thing, start some blog contests, get a couple new patterns knit up/written up, get Kenzi prepped for SAR evals. Yup, it was going to be a busy month.
Then it came to a screeching halt. Last Friday I found out that Missy has Hemangiosarcoma. She had been a bit off for a couple weeks, but I chalked it up to older dog stiffness and construction noises. She had had a check up in March and things were fine. Then I felt the mass in her abdomen. And I knew. The vet confirmed it the next day. It hit me like a ton of bricks. She's only twelve years old, and a young twelve at that. The average person wouldn't guess that she was over nine. We were supposed to have another two or three good years together at least.
My plans for the month seem insignificant. They'll wait.Missy is my girl. My sidekick and partner for the last nine years. I don't want to think about life
without her. But now she'll be gone far too soon.
If I needed to describe Miss in just one word it would be “good”. Not because she's perfect, but because she is good through and through. All she ever wanted in life was a person to belong to and tell her that she was a good girl. The person I got her from told me she was a quitter. No, far from it. She just wanted so bad to please that it made her nervous when she thought she wasn't doing something right. When she came to live with us a whole new world was thrust on her. But in this world she had a family that told her that she was good. And in exchange she gave us, gave me, everything.
She is one of those dogs that never really needed training. It was kind of pointless. I tell her what to do and she does it. Don't go in the basement. And for nine years she's just laid at the top of the basement steps. Her small repertoire of tricks? Taught in about 3 minutes each. She picks up on words and cues incredibly fast.
We learned basic stock work together in a hit and miss fashion. Quit has never been in her vocabulary. And despite my lack of training ability she became a great chore dog. So the past week, I've taken her out in the barnyard and let her gather the sheep to me. Simple work, but I smile when see the spark in her eyes for the job. For one more time it's me and my dog and life is good.
I've spent a lot of time this past week with Missy doing things she likes, spoiling her. Whatever it takes to let her know that she is my girl and the best dog in the whole world. She's eating it up. She's on pain meds and her attitude is still great. She's loving the cars rides, the extra attention, the chance to do chores, the bits of food slipped to her from my plate. I'm taking lots of pictures, too. It's bittersweet, but she doesn't know that. She just knows that she has a person and a family and that life is good.