Downward Dog

Death Update.

Juanita, our cat, is being put to sleep on Tuesday.
She is sixteen. Adam has had her for sixteen years. I’ve known her for fourteen and a half years. This is sad.

But nothing as sad as Louise.

Louise, our pooch, the girl of my life, has terminal cancer. A huge plum sized tumor sits on the top of her heart, sourrounding her aorta. I spent the day at the Vet cardiac specialist on Sepuleveda. The Vet’s last name was Barrett. I took comfort. My neighbor next door growing up, her last name was also Barrett and they had lots of animals and I am pretty sure Susie Barrett became a veternarian herself. This Barrett was so kind. After the ultarsound, she sat with me and explained exactly how it was all going to go down: the coughing from the tumor rubbing up against the trachea, the enlarged heart, the fluid that was going to fill her chest cavity, which is difficult to drain, the fluid that will fill up her abdominal cavity because of her weak heart, and how that could actually be drained with no difficulty, the end being near, no need to ever get her teeth cleaned again, handed me blood pressure pills to reduce stress on the heart and diuretics to remove fluid, the end, the end, the end, the end of our gorgoues, loved doggie.

Adam and I have been crying all weekend. It’s ridiculous to even try to explain the indescribable wailing that takes over.