Sick Friend

I have a sick friend. Today, she gave me a scare.

She's thirteen inches high, tri-colored, and answers to Roxy. She's a beagle. She's in my top five.

She has cancer. She's thirteen. She had a bleed today. She's home and resting comfortably but it was a scare.

I'm a quick hook with these things because it is my job. She looks to me to make rational decisions on her care and well-being. I look to her to keep rabbits away. It's an even trade.

I wasn't well prepared for her untimely demise. I especially wasn't prepared because that call comes down to me. She's got a little time left. Very little, unfortunately. It is something, however. I still get to spoil her a little longer.

Of course, who knows how long any of us have. The best we can hope for is to go to sleep one day before it gets ugly. I'll make that happen for her. For now, she's my resident hospice patient. I'll stock up on peanut butter and biscuits. Those are her favorite things.

I have a sketchy bit attributed to her on a former pack-mate : Atlas (dog who saved the world). I think it is time to work this one up. Atlas saved my world. He made it a great place for Roxy. Time for a dog story.

Off to write.