“Your dog probably has cancer.”
“Wait, we didn’t find any.”
“But he still has anemia, which could mean cancer.”
“We have to do something about the anemia or he won’t live long enough to figure out what’s wrong.”
“It’s a bacterial infection causing the anemia.”
“But it still could be something like cancer.”
The past week has been an emotional ride that has left me exhausted. Plaid is my boy and one of the world’s best dogs ever. Seriously. The best. People I know who don’t like dogs love Plaid.
I’ve gone from thinking he was going to die within the month to thinking he had something minor to thinking he wouldn’t last the week to thinking he could get better. It’s been crazy insane with lots of tears, confused feelings and a desire to hope but a fear to do so.
I had to leave him again to go back to New York. My heart is full of hope that I’ll see him again, my head is steeling for the worst and my body is just plain tired of all the drama in my life of late.
Can I get a refund on my ticket? I’m not liking this ride so much.
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