Oncology, tomography and pleura. Those were the words that I had to look up and have translated in order to write this.
For her, they mean nothing. The words she knows: food, sit, go to bed, come, stay, heel, paw, lie down, go ahead, and no. And a bunch more, that we didn’t teach her. She's smart. In a dog way.
Today, we took her to the animal hospital, because she was short of breath, and she wheezed. They x-rayed her, anesthetized her and drained her pleura of fluid, did ultrasound and tests. They think it’s a tumor. Tomorrow, she will have tomography and see an oncologist. Perhaps we will know more then.
I don’t think our best friend will be around much longer. I knew that from the start. The puppy we brought home would only live for twelve years or so. But I'm not ready to let her go yet. Or ever.