Awww Brownie!!! That's impressive to be able to jump so high 🙂 

So it was realllly cold this weekend. It was in the 50s! So no beach for us. With New England weather, I'm sure there will be a few more warm days where we can try. You guys have given me the confidence.

Lady had a lot of accidents on Saturday. We were a bit nervous because she was only having them overnight on occasion, but Saturday she was hardly even trying to go outside. I know the steroid can cause frequent urination, so we've been using treats to get her outside more so she can go. Luckily, since Saturday she hasn't had any more accidents. And other than the accidents, she's still in good spirits and loving life.

I'm going to share a picture I took of her yesterday while we were outside.

https://twitter.....60/photo/1

We were able to get a vet to come here. She’s gone now 💔 I’m so glad that she was able to go here and that she’s no longer suffering and I’m sure I’ll have so much more to say but right now I just feel an endless sadness

Thank you all for the kind words ❤️ The community that exists here is unmatched. I am so happy that I found this website, this forum, and each of you. I’m so glad that we got almost four amazing bonus months with our girl, and it’s because I found this website. You helped me through all the tough days after amputation. You answered my posts often before the vet even called back. And you helped Lady more than you can ever know in her final months. This community is what convinced us that amputation was the right choice, so, in a way, you each were the angels that gave her more time with us, which I know was all she wanted. 

I woke up this morning and felt that immense, gut wrenching hole only a pet can leave. Each morning I would wake up and start my day saying “Hello Lady!” And so today I did it, even though there was no Lady to say hello to. Yesterday happened so fast, her breathing got so bad, she started spitting up blood, and she could barely make it outside to go to the bathroom. I could tell she was struggling to breath laying down, but she couldn’t stand up long enough to get the air in the lungs she needed. I knew it was time. And when we started calling places for a house visit and no one was available, I started to panic. I couldn’t see her suffer like that. Not my strong, proud, forever puppy. I was praying and praying for our calls to be answered. That we wouldn’t have to take her to the vet, where only 2 people could go in with her. Around 10 AM, someone finally got back to us and said they could come at noon. Even on her final day, the universe was looking out for our Lady.

Her last hours were spent surrounded by all of us. We stayed by her side in shifts, making sure not to cry in front of her but to keep her company and talk as normal families do on a not so normal day. We could tell she was so very tired, but she got up to greet my sister and her children at the door. When I tried to feed her a piece of banana—I always shared my bananas with her—she spit it out. It wasn’t until my father brought her a powdered donut that she took some food. Right up until the end, she couldn’t say no to a special treat. 

Lady was the queen of comforting us. For over a decade, she was the constant in each of our lives. She greeted you at the door the moment you came in, with a look on her face like “Where have you been all my life?” She was my favorite walking buddy. When Covid started and the world slowed down, I started taking her on more and more walks. She kept me active in a world where there was no activity. I used to talk to her on my walks. Usually just about what we were seeing—squirrels, flowers, other doggies. Sometimes I would imagine her turned around and saying “God, do you ever shut up?” I didn’t take a single walk for granted. I know she didn’t either. I’m happy I got those days. 

After her amputation, she did turn back into that puppy you all had promised. She hopped around like a bunny and had more energy than we ever could have imagined in those first few weeks of recovery. It was the best decision we ever made. I am so sure of that now. And I know she fought against that cancer growing inside of her. The vet gave a prognosis of two months, and she made it to almost four. When we took her in for X rays a few weeks ago, and they said days, she just came home and kept counter surfing. She beat all the odds. As you all said, the steroid was a miracle drug for her. It gave us a few more weeks, and they were weeks full of love and treats and time. All we ever want is a little more time with those we love. And we got as much of it as we could with her. I’m forever grateful for that. 

I’ll miss giving her belly rubs. I’ll miss the way when I would stop petting her she would lift her head up and nudge my hand. The lovin’ could not stop! I’ll miss seeing her head pop up over the dinner table while we were eating. I’ll miss sitting on the front lawn with her in the sun—watching her smell the air and smile at the sun. And oh, will I miss coming down the stairs every morning to her happy, smiling face! She taught me so much about patience. About enjoying each and every simple moment because nothing is ever guaranteed.

We had such a wonderful time. 

Loving her was the easiest thing in the world, and losing her will be one of the hardest. I’ll look her for in the stars tonight, and I’ll know I can walk through this because many of you have paved the path of grief before me ❤️