With tremendous sadness I report that Janet and I learned yesterday
that our 15-1/2 year old short-hair, black & tan, miniature dachshund,
Sparky, has cancer. A "mass," as the vet diplomatically put it,
about the size of a lemon on the X-ray, at the rear of her abdomen
against her kidneys. For the past several weeks she had seemed
suddenly to have slowed down. She was 15 going on 4,
but 15-1/2 going on 17. Now we know.
Sparky came into our lives at age nine weeks just four weeks after
Janet and I were married, and she has been a deeply good and loving
dog. We will obviously take the most humane care of
her possible and will ensure she experiences no suffering. (For now,
she’s in zero pain or discomfort.)
All dogs go to heaven.
