So I started to type some witty blog post about kitchen stores and why I love them (they are great, don’t get me wrong), but I just couldn’t bring myself to finish it. My family dog, Jazzy, is dying, and it sucks and I can’t concentrate on much else.
I wrote about her before, back when I was visiting my family in NH in June. I’d found some cancerous tumors on her and she ended up having surgery to remove them. The surgery was for naught, however, as we found more tumors only days after the procedure, and now she has more than we can count, including one huge ugly one on the underside of her right foreleg that bleeds pretty much continuously (sorry I know that’s gross).
She still eats and drinks and wanders outside and likes to cuddle, but she only has weeks left, at most. I’m back in NH to dog sit for her while my parents go on a vacation that was long-planned and couldn’t be canceled, and while I’m grateful for the time with her, I’m also just depressed. I hate that she is cancer-ridden and dying, even though she has lived a very long life and I don’t want her to suffer. If I have to put her down in the next couple of weeks while my parents are gone, I will – I won’t let her be in pain (right now she’s just fatigued). But it just completely and utterly sucks.
When Jazzy passes away, a part of my childhood will die with her. I still consider her my childhood pet, even though I was halfway through high school when we got her. She’s brought so much joy and love to our lives. I think pets are so beloved to humans because they truly provide us with unconditional love. They don’t care if we’re in a bad mood, or if we gained ten pounds, or if our makeup is smudged, or if we snap at them; they love us fiercely all the time, no matter what we do or how we look. Jazzy has spent her whole life loving – she loves me and my brother and my parents, and the grass, and the snow, and the wind, and her toys, and the world. She loves sleeping and eating and playing and snuggling and pressing up against our legs so she can be close to us and we can pet her more easily. She isn’t capable of meanness; I can count on one hand the number of times she’s ever snapped at another animal or human (they were all instances of self-defense). If more humans approached life the way Jazzy does, the world would be a calmer, happier, and more peaceful place. With lots and lots of treats, of course.
I’m sorry for the depressing post, and I know some people might say that I’m too caught up in my feelings over a dog, but I don’t care – she’s what’s occupying my thoughts these days, and so I’m sharing that here. If you have a fur baby, please hug him or her for Jazzy in the next few days and spread the love. ❤