Ginny

I wrote this post almost two months ago.  My dog Ginny was rapidly declining, and I could not ignore the inevitable.  The night I really understood her end was near I stayed up late, unable to sleep.  I finally wrote this on my phone but was too raw to post it.  She hung in there exactly a week, which is almost a week longer than I expected her to.  Ginny has been gone now just over a month, and I'm okay with sharing this.  I can read it without weeping, and choose pictures that make me smile for my sweet girl.
-rue

The last picture I took of Ginny, the day before she died.
She had a great day and I hoped she would rally and stick
around a while but the next morning there was no question
it was time to let her go.

My dog is dying.  God, what awful words.  How unfair it is that our sweet friends are given such short lives.  To be honest, Ginny has technically been dying for a while now.  We found her first tumor two and a half years ago.  We chose not to treat it because she was already nine years old and I decided that if the cancer grew quickly it was already too late (the tumor was soft ball size and involved a leg when we found it), and I didn't want her remaining time filled with uncomfortable (at best) treatments.  If it was slow growing, I hoped we'd get to keep her to a natural lifespan, which for her breed is 12-15 years.  Fortunately, it was a slow grower and she lived well with it.  It has caught up to her now though, and the end is coming.  The stupid, heartbreaking end.

Ginny was a bonus dog in my life.  My father-in-law imported her grandfather from England.  He was a rancher who bred his own dogs to help work his cattle.  Ginny's grandfather was his star dog.  Her father, Hooper, had been a special gift to my husband when he was in college.  We bred Hooper during what became his last year alive to continue the line. I called them heirloom puppies.  We only meant to keep one, but when we went to pick up our choice, I couldn't stop looking at Ginny.  She was fat and wiggly and sweet.  Her pretty little face just stood out from the rest, and considering there were eleven beautiful puppies in her liter, that's really saying something.  My husband saw that I couldn't leave her alone.  We had already chosen one dog, the only one we intended to keep, but he said "Do you want to get two?"  Oh boy!  Did I!!!  I would have kept all eleven if I could have and he knew it, so giving me the go ahead to claim another one was like Chirstmas in August. Bonus dog!  I scooped her up, happy as a clam.  

As we got to know our new puppies, we could see Ginny was a meek one.  I decided to name her after the Harry Potter character who was shy but strong and also a beautiful red head.  Her brother Rex became the king.

Elise with Ginny.  They were a great pair from the start.

Our oldest daughter was seven months old when we brought the puppies home, and Rex was a little rambunctious for her.   Ginny as very calm and patient.  Our daughter was crawling and figured out pretty fast how to find the puppies.  She loved to pat Ginny and Ginny allowed it.  Rex would take a little affection, but he liked to jump on her and play too rough.  Ginny just wanted snuggles.

Madelyn, rubbing Ginny's tummy on her last good day.
Madelyn knew Ginny wasn't well and wanted to make her
feel better.  You can see from the look on Ginny's face
that she basked in the attention.

Ginny always wanted snuggles.  She was willing to play fetch, go on long walks or perform all the fun tricks she knew, but you could hear her heart sing when she got a good loving.  Her favorite thing is still having someone sit on the floor and rub her tummy.  Just tonight I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed that tummy.  She smiled her dog smile and was happy.  

These good dogs grew up with our kids, and I suppose there is a case to be made for the whole comparison of kids leaving the nest and dogs moving on to explain why I'm so sad, but honestly, I'm a mess every time a pet dies.  I'm practically weeping just writing this,  how am I going to tell my kids about Ginny?  They can see she is very sick, but how will I get through telling them it's time for her to go?  That she's gone?  I hate this.