Since I am not a great housekeeper, read I HATE TO CLEAN, yesterday was the pits. Sweet Pea, aka the Queen, got sick in the night and left all kinds of nasty surprises all over my carpet. After a quick pick up and minor attempt at spotting, I had to take her majesty to the vet, of course.
At sixteen, we felt it was important to have her checked out. The vet was great with her, and said she has colitis...great! When pressed about the life expectancy issue he said she had exceeded her expiry date by about 3 years already and except for the colitis she was very healthy. He was amazed that at her age she had no heart murmurs. Sweet Pea is now on the chicken, rice and yogurt diet for a few days. That is not a problem, getting her meds down is...and when she goes back to her regular diet, I am sure that the Queen will make her displeasure known.
Each time I have to take her in for anything other than routine shots, I am aware that we are on borrowed time. (I try to be prepared for the inevitable "it is time to put her down" speech.) Although Sweet Pea has only been with us not quite 4 years, she has become a true member of our family. I won't replace her. She is quite irreplaceable and will have to learn to entertain myself without her "carrot dance" and "I NEEEEEED to go outside dance". My prayer has been for a long time that she would just go to sleep one time and not wake up...chicken, I know, but I am really not sure I could hold her while they put her down. My sister was able to do that with her aged Irish Setter, and I know that if it comes right down to it, I will...I just hate crying in public, since, as a former teaching colleague once said, it is more socially acceptable to laugh than to cry.