Lucy is gone, another victim in the long line of cancer sufferers who were not fortunate enough to hang on. She had been a trooper for well over a year, as the tumor limited her breathing and eating, and as it swelled and distorted her face. She was still beautiful to us. She slowly gave up the things she loved the most, beginning with her walks, then her treats, then finally, yesterday, food itself. She was taking pills 5 times a day, sometimes more, to keep the poisonous beast at bay. Until yesterday. By last night and this morning, she was a shell of her former magnificence, and lay quietly on the floor or in the grass outside. And yet, if we approached, she would try to wag and get up to greet us. And then move away tired again and wanting to be alone. Her final gift to us was a sign that it was time--she stopped eating and just lay around. And we decided to relieve her suffering.
The doctors were very caring, and she was her usual sweet self during the process. And so at peace at the end. We are devastated, wandering around trying to reconcile the loving gift of release we gave her with the huge hole she left in our hearts. Fortunately, I believe (as should we all because not to is too painful and illogical) that death is not the end of all, but a change of form, and that I will see my precious baby once again. Someday. And then we both will know "the Secret."
This is Lucy's obituary, in pictures. A memorial to her cuteness.
We are ineffably sad, but also grateful we had so many years with her. Goodbye, sweet loving creature.
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