Wait, what.

I just paid $45 to have the vet tell me she has a 6 inch tumor in her abdomen that is already bleeding out on and off. It’s just a matter of time before it starts bleeding out without stopping. When that happens, she’ll become severely anemic and I’ll have to bring her in to get her put down.

I asked for a time frame and he said there’s no way to tell. It could be next week, it could be 3 months from now.

I don’t really know what I’m feeling right now. I was fine until five minutes into the drive home when I started to cry like a small, retarded child. I know she’s lived a nice life. There’s no sense in trying to remove a tumor that large from a dog that old.

You know… it’s just… I got her when I was 12. This dog has been by my side since before I was a teenager. She’s been there for me when I felt completely lost. No matter how much of a miserable bitch I was, she would be happy to see me when I walked through that fucking door. And I know that’s the usual dog reaction, I know. But feeling that sort of undeniable love from something, even if it’s covered in fur and slobbers everywhere, really means something to me.

I am heart broken. I can’t believe this stupid, fucking dog is doing this right now.

She made me happy. I can’t think of a better way to tell people what she means to me. She made me happy.