The Longest Drive

On Saturday, I took Clancy into the vet; he’s been loosing weight and getting a little slower.  Yesterday (Tuesday), we visited the vet again to say good-bye.  The speed at which we’ve lost our good friend has been heartbreaking – I miss him.

I knew something was horribly wrong on Saturday when the vet could feel his liver in his abdomen.  She suspected some kind of mass and we scheduled blood-work.  At that time, he was still eating and drinking ok and enjoyed playing, although not as quick as he used to be.  By Monday, he had stopped eating and I was getting concerned.  Another trip to the vet confirmed the worst – his x-rays showed a massive mass in his spleen and his blood was extremely anemic.  Clancy had cancer.

We did have options.  We could have done a painful surgery.  There was a chance the mass was benign and Clancy could live happily ever after.  There was a chance that even with cancer, he could live another year after the surgery.  But those chances weren’t good and with his anemia, surgery would have required 2 blood transfusions and was risky.  On Monday, we opted to bring him home and spend one more night with him. 

His last day was very sweet.  We all showered him with love and affection.  Nate is in town, and he and I took him for a short hike in the desert.  Clancy was happy, he ate again, and I believe he knew he was loved.  Our last trip to the vet – the longest drive ever – was tearful.

I am relieved to have his pain over and the decision behind us.  But I also miss him in so many ways.  I miss tripping over him at night, hearing his collar jingle in the hall or the sound of him crunching his food as he eats.  I miss seeing his ears pop forward when we open the closet door for treats or the sad look in his eyes if we leave without him.  I miss his happy face at the door at the end of the day or the way his tail would wag like a heavy stick against the floor.  We have millions of memories of happy days spent with him – adventures in Montana or camping in Arizona or laying around our house or mornings at the park or trips around the block.  He was a great dog; he was our dog.  Life feels more empty without a dog to share the days.

I love you Clancy and I miss you.