I hope that you don’t often see mommy or me being sad. But I just felt like I had to write about my day yesterday. I’m not sure if I’ll ever let you read this particular entry, but for my own sake, I needed to put in on paper so I don’t forget the details of what happened.
On Sunday night, grandma and grandpa came to see you. During their visit, they mentioned Tupac, my dog of 9 years, was sick. My dad even said that he thought Tupac was getting too old and her time had come. I responded that she’s only 9 and dogs live up to 15 years. After they left, I felt really bothered and burdened but managed to put the thoughts to rest.
The next morning, grandma left me a voicemail saying that Tupac was doing worse and that I should check on her. They were headed for the airport and couldn’t do anything for her. I immediately scheduled an appointment at the vet. When I got to grandma’s house I saw Tupac lying on her side, immobile near the entrance to the garage. She wasn’t moving. I was heartbroken. I had never seen Tupac so subdued and broken. I picked her up and took her to my car. I noticed that ants were crawling on the side she was laying on. That made me even sadder that a dog as beautiful and majestic as Tupac was being overrun by insects.
Once we arrived at the vet, we waited to be checked in. The doctor said it would be best to leave her for a few days so they could run tests. His initial prognosis was that she was weak from dehydration and could be suffering from any number of illnesses. It was really difficult for me to leave Tupac at the vet’s office. The staff were friendly, but it was still stale and made of concrete. I wondered if she would miss her large yard where she normally chased birds and made sure possums didn’t get close to our house.
Shortly after leaving the office, I got a call later from the doctor saying that Tupac’s abdomen was irregular. He feared that it was something called Pyometra or even cancer tissues. The blood tests would reveal more the next day.
The dreaded results from the blood test came back and it was worse that I had feared. Everything that could be wrong was wrong. Everything that was supposed to be low was high and vice versa. She wasn’t peeing on her own. Not knowing what to do, I went to visit Tupac and check in on her.
I got there around 2pm and they got her ready for me to see. She was lying motionless. I asked the doctor if she was in pain. Fortunately she probably wasn’t. But Tupac just wasn’t the same animal. I called to her and she didn’t respond. I kept petting her and the doctor said she seemed to like it. I was in tears as I saw Tupac looking like a shell of her former self. After about 15 minutes, things took a bad turn. She went into cardiac arrest. The doctors and staff brought her back to life. I don’t want to go into the details of what happened next, but there was nothing we could do to save her.
I’m really going to miss her. She was an awesome dog and I’m lucky to say that she was our dog. Her personality was by far the best of any dog I’ve ever seen. She was charming, friendly, and caring. Strange words to describe an animal, but she was all those things and more. I’m scared my memories of her will fade. I’ll try hard to hold on to what I’ve got.
