The two days since my diagnosis flew by. My people never left my side and let me eat all manner of treats. For some reason my appetite did not fail me, so the treats were a welcome distraction.
People came to say goodbye. My special friend Carol came with a sack of burgers from McDonalds. I was so happy to see her and I was especially happy to eat the burgers.
Another friend brought her camera and took pictures of me. I felt like a princess being stalked by the paparazzi.
In the afternoon of the day I would die, I took what has become a ritual walk into the pasture to wander amongst the alpacas and the hens. It seemed strangely comforting to know the farm animals were unaware it was my last day.
Leaving the animals behind, I walked around the back yard, rolled in the grass and then returned to my favorite place in the studio, where I spent countless hours with Ash and my people.
Soon the phone rang. The vet was on her way and my time left on earth could be measured in minutes. My people tried to be strong for me. They told me how much they loved me and what a wonderful dog I was. Their tears splashed on my nose and they used my fur to dry their eyes.
Ash looked at me and I could tell his little boy heart was going to explode. That was the hardest part, saying goodbye to my best friend.
Mom asked if I wanted to have one last treat with Ash. Of course I did, so we raced into the our crates like we had hundreds of times before.
And then it was time. The vet arrived as expected. Mom put Ash in his crate with a bone so I would know he was close by.
My people told me over and over how much they loved me. They kissed me goodbye and wished me godspeed on my journey. As I crossed the bridge I knew in my heart that everything happens for a reason. I am where I should be and I am whole again.