A doggone health scare

Last week Penny almost died: that beautiful being who was almost an afterthought this past year came front and center and settled deep and heavy in my chest reminding me what a damn god dog - and companion - she has been.

Penny has been getting thinner - and we thought at first she was mimicking Annie's persnickety eating habits - but then she grew weak and lethargic.  She could not finish a walk.  We learned she had a tumor on her spleen and it was removed on Thursday.  On Wednesday - the eve of her surgery - we cooked her a steak.  She loved it.

The day of the surgery Matt had to carry her into our vet's office because she had grown so anemic and weak, and that morning we said goodbye.  Matt took a quick snapshot of Annie, Penny and me, all of us with our hearts in our throat except Annie, who just wanted her morning banana.

But yesterday we learned it wasn't cancer and day by day she grows fatter, stronger, happier.  Her appetite is strong and she jumped to greet us when we got home (so much for, "She should only be walking to go out to the bathroom," which was the advice of our vet).  We have matching scars - long, deep vertical cuts on our tummies - and I'm reminded of the comfort she brought me when I was sick.

The day of the surgery Matt wrote this is an email:

I'll always be in Penny's debt.  What I'm most grateful for is how she's been able to soothe and comfort you.  Especially when I think of the rougher times we've gone though, your hospitalization, then surgery, your unemployment, and all the failed fertilization attempts.  Our doggy daughter was always able to provide solace in ways that eluded me.  

We're so very thankful to have her home.

Penny: "Let's get on with this already you sentimental ninnies."

Her steak (well, we had some as well...let's be real y'all).

Our precious pup.