We sent Uschi off to be with her angels on Friday night, at sunset. Western Washington is known for rain and clouds but amazingly, gratefully, we had a beautiful, sunny day. On Thursday I made the appointment and then realized that Uschi's never-waning appetite was a blessing, so I fed her steak and cooked salmon for her last 3 meals. She loved it!  It was so strange for me to see this dog who from the ribs up was totally normal: moving, "talking", playing and chewing on her ball...but from the ribs down she was in great pain. She chose to sit in her bed all the time, not moving, but still adding her opinion to all that happened around her. My in-laws came to visit with her early in the day and she was soooooo happy about that. Later I carried her outside (she winced and whined) and laid her on a blanket in the sun. She chewed on her ball, snapped at a fly, and rolled on her back and gave me her paw. She watched a hummingbird. I was so torn as to what to do, as I could see she had so much life in her. The vet came to our home in the late afternoon and examined her and said we were doing the best thing for her because when Uschi was stood up, she was obviously uncomfortable. She couldn't walk (hop) at all.

I suppose it was all the pain meds she was on plus her overly large personality and loyalty that kept her so engaged and vocal, right to the end. I agreed that it was better to release her now, when she was essentially happy and wanting to eat, give kisses, and all that (as opposed to waiting until she was really bad off). I agreed to it, but my heart broke when it was done. Through my tears I looked outside to the setting sun and saw venus high and bright in the sky. It had been a beautiful day and a really really heartfelt moment of giving her all the love we could before the medication took effect. She was eating treats up until the last second.

I did not want to give up on her, but at the same time I just couldn't take her to one more clinic. The day was so perfect for leaving...my auto-pilot self took over and made the call to the vet the day before, and on the day of got a babysitter to take our young son for a while, unplugged all the phones, filled her belly with salmon, and stayed with her all day. My auto-pilot self kept me going until Uschi was gone, then I slowly unravelled and began to mourn for a dog that had such a good, fun and totally mis-hap laden life! 

What a wild dog! What a loyal dog. What a super keen, super smart dog. What a fun, playful dog. What a pesky dog! What a bully of a dog (to our other dog). What a vocal dog - always! How lucky we were to find her in that kennel in Sacramento in spring, 1998. How lucky she was that we took her in...a dog that had been surrendured by someone (surely because of her energy level!). Our house is totally empty without her personality in it, and the other dog is depressed. But after a day of crying at the ocean's edge, Sunday dawned anew, and we began to create new routines. Now I am feeling gratitude that she came into our lives and stayed so long.

Should cancer strike another dog of mine, I am infinitely more informed than I was before Uschi, and I'm thankful for that. The vet. neurologist had even seen Jerry on TV and mentioned it to me...famous as he is. As for Uschi, the general thought by everybody is that because large doses of pain meds did not seem to help this mysterious back pain, the osteosarcoma must have recurred in her spine. We'll never know for sure because I was unwilling to move her anymore (and thus no more xrays...etc). But we made the right choice for her, and oh what a sunset...