It’s hard to believe we’ve had Ginger for a little more than 8 years. I remember the day she came home. She was so nervous on the way home with my dad that she peed, pooped and vomitted on him. Gross- but a funny story now. She was so little. I was only 11 when we got her.
My dad’s best friend, his shadow. I remember when she’d jump up on my bed and want to play. When she tore up my Goodnight Moon stuffed animal because my brother didn’t watch her. The way she would howl when she wanted a treat, when you came home. The unpleasant nudge in the crotch, her way of greeting. Her soft ears. She knows where that snack cabinet is. Exploring in Wisconsin. Still sitting on my dad’s lap even though she’s a full grown, 75 pound golden retriever. Going to the dog park every Sunday. The way her tail wagged when you spoke to her like a baby.
It’s hard to believe it’s all ending. It’s not fair. She’s so young.
I left for school this morning in tears, trying to pull myself together. My dad had just called after dropping her off at the hospital and let us know that it was a 40% chance of an infection and the other 60% was cancer. Hearing my dad cry on the phone…I was taken. The only other time he has cried was when his mother died last February-actually 4 days shy of 1 year ago. I sat in class in a trance, praying that it was just an infection. All the scenarios and outcomes running through my head, tears almost running down my face as my teacher explained photoshop and composition. I came home and sat in silence, crying. My mom came down and said “it’s not good news,” breaking into tears. She has a bony mass tumor pressing on her brain going down to her neck. It is cancerous. There’s nothing we can do. It’s a matter of weeks, maybe only 1 or 2.
Please pray for her. That she would be comfortable until she can’t take it anymore. This is really hard and I am in a lot of pain.
