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Angry Mom

Me and Bear…..bout five years ago.

I’m so mad. I would never ever have given Jake a dog for him to fall in love with; only for him to lose him seven years later to cancer. CRAP.

I’m thinking all this started in May? I took him to the groomers and she said “did you know that Bear has a tumor on His, ummm, ummm, umm?” Of course I didn’t have a clue. It’s not exactly my area of expertise. I mean, I don’t even like to look back there…

So three months and three surgery’s later, we all thought we were behind this cancer business.

Obviously not.

So the question that remains.  How does one take a seemingly perfectly healthy dog in to be put down? Do we wait for the tumor to get huge? At the rate this thing grows, it seems like it would only be weeks before its pushing against his mmmm hmmmmm.

And who takes him?

I’m guessing that would be me.

And should I tell the kids before I take him?

I certainly don’t want them going to the vets office.  Hell, I don’t want to go to the vets office either.

When it is our time, I just wish we all could just close our eyes and go to sleep.

 

Gah.

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