Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Bandit, My Dear, Sweet Canine Friend...
A little piece of him is missing, right below his right shoulder. It was an interloper, an unwelcome guest. It was cancer -- technically a mast cell tumor.
My old guy is back at his post, under my office chair. He's a little out of it. He has a Frankenstein scar the length of my hand to show for his long, hard day. But with the help of Fruit of the Loom, and some major painkillers, he is looking quite cozy.
I wish I could hold on to him forever, but I know I can't. It is part of life, this death thing. We all succumb and my dear canine is no exception. I am sure he has been around before, though, as he has been my angel for so long and will probably follow me elsewhere, in another form, as another being.
He looks up with his big brown eyes. He knows. We've saved him once again.
And he is grateful.