My dogs, their doctor and her absence.

My first posting on a blog. My own blog. Gulp.

I am not a writer. But I am grieving my dogs beloved vet.

They are 13. She was their vet all their lives. She was only 54. She had breast cancer.

She was a remarkable woman. So very bright, so very alive. She fought it, and I mean fought it for 7 years. I 0nly knew her as a vet.

I knew she had breast cancer when she left her practice for a year in 2001. When she came back in 2002 I thought she was ok. I have had at least 8 friends who have had breast cancer. Not one of them has died from it. Still.

Except number 9. I still cannot believe she is gone.

I was not supposed to know very much. I was a very valued client, but she was very private and during the 6 years she still practiced after her diagnosis she did not let on that she was in distress to most people.

I got drawn in by fate. Onc day about 2 years ago I was sitting on of the examination rooms with one of my dogs and I heard some raised voices and then crying. One of the techs was begging her to not make a trip to see some friends. Because she would wear herself out and get sicker than she was. I listened for a couple of minutes and then asked one of the nurses in reception to please tell them to cool it - I did not want to hear things I was not supposed to hear.

A few minutes later, my vet came in with tears in her eyes. Then we talked about her cancer very plainly. And I told her that whatever her young friend feared it was her life and she needed to do what was necessary for her. She looked at me and said, "yes, it is my life."
From that point on we talked about what was going on with her treatment, good and bad.

Not every time I brought one of my dogs in. Most of the time I tried to just treat her like my vet and that was all. But sometimes there would be a good scan or a set back and we would talk about that, too.

Anyway, she passed away last week after a pretty fast decline.

I am much more bereft than I thought I would be. More later