We began last week with a trip to New York.....day in Central Park, day at Long Beach, visiting with Great Grandma, fun galore... and ended it finding out after a doggy MRI and spinal tap, numerous blood tests that NO our beloved big ole' yellow lab, Tucker, was not, in fact, dying of a brain tumor. Upon picking Tucker up at the kennel after our fun weekend, we noticed one side of his head was literally caved in. Our vet was puzzled, we were referred to an animal neurologist, the diagnosis, most likely a brain tumor pressing on a nerve in his head. We spent all week imagining how we were going to say goodbye to our 100 pound tornado of love. We talked about where we would draw the line for treatment and what humane measures we would take to keep our pet alive. When is it about the pet and when is it about the humans who own him? All tough questions....
Of course, I felt guilty for all of the walks I didn't take him on and the many times I scolded him for doing his lab duty of routing through the trash.
We were the only ones picking up our goofy dog on Saturday (after the savings busting tests) with a miracle result, no tumor. Other weren't so lucky....as we left we witnessed a woman quietly sobbing and walking her little dog for the last time. He was busy sniffing the grass, clueless as to what was next. We had escaped.
But not without fielding many questions about what happens when dogs die and Jamie's BIG question (and I'm not making this up), so what's it all about, Mom?
What a week. I think we'll go take Tucker for a walk.