Months

Puppette, the most wonderful dog I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, had a very bad day yesterday.  She vomited and then did not want to eat her breakfast.  This is so unusual for her, I took her to the vet.  The initial work up and x-rays indicated she might have pleural effusion and kidney involvement.  These two things in combination are very bad.  after a rush trip to another vet clinic, and several hours of tests, it was determined it was not so bad, or was it?

Puppette has left lobe consolidated pneumonia, pancreatitis, and a growth in her bladder.  Well shit!
Today, my long conversation with Dr Perente clarified the situation.  Puppette has a transitional cell carcinoma in her bladder.  If treated aggressively, we could have many more months together.  If treated conservatively, she has a few months left.
Months.
I now have to define my relationship with my best girl in months.
This is a place I have dreaded and looked at side ways for thirteen years.  But now that it has shown up at my door, I really want to kick it in the nuts!
I have to decide so many things, now.  I am Puppette's guardian.  I have to make decisions she can't make.  I have to pay attention to her and read her more closely than ever before to make sure I do not miss some little sign or signal that the time is here.
Months.  Collections of 28, 29, 30 or 31 days.  I have had years.  But am I so greedy to want more?
I will write my thoughts here, for a time.  Maybe I will write this up until and just past saying good bye.
Months.
WTF?