It is every dog lovers fear...

It is that deep pit in your stomach that is always there in the back of your mind.  It is the one thing as dog lovers that we can agree on and keeps us united.  It is a fear that grows slowly every day, each day at a time.  There is no shaking it or stopping it and one day it will happen.  Your dog will die.  Your best friend will leave you and you will be shaken to the core.  We know what it is like, because you will even bond with complete strangers that say they lost their dog and you will nod your head because you know the pain and anguish of their loss.  

We know the fear all too well, as we live with four dogs all the same age and all from the same litter and who have already lost their mother and father.  It is scary.  When Zappa pinched a nerve in his lower back, that half hour of waiting for my husband to return so we could take him to ER, was frightening.  Not knowing what was happening to him as he shook and shook and shook in my arms, I didn't know if this was it or not.  Thoughts circled in my head, if it was or wasn't.  I shook as well as that fear bubbled up, praying and praying for help.  I do believe that when one goes the rest will follow like dominoes.   And it will be just too much for our hearts to handle.  It brings a cold reality when one of them is hurt or sick, that this could be it.  Hubby, Mark and I tremor in that reality and the growing panic that we will never be ready for.

I should state that I'm referring to an earlier than predicted death, not so much one of old age, which I think we all ask for.  

Chance was sick today, only two weeks after Zappa was and vomited his breakfast three times after eating.  The panic meter started to rise:  the obnoxious heat and humidity we've had and the dogs still having some of their undercoat.  The fact couple with company yesterday, that would have set off Chance's panic button to an already hyper dog and couldn't deal with all the heat. I've spent all day trying to adjust that meter, but the terror is real.  The fear that there is something more wrong that what I see.  The fear that just like his dad,Brut, that Chance has come down with something and there are no warning signs, only to find out too late.  The fear of losing him sooner with not enough time for anything.  Why?  Because it happened to me.  Brut was gone at the young age of eight years old.  With no symptoms that anything was wrong and once diagnosis too late, he was gone.  Just like that.  Gone forever and ever.  Gripping reality for the fear that runs deep for his children.  

Hopefully Chance will be feeling better by tomorrow.  If not we are off to the vet.  And hopefully Zappa will be OK, as he took the last of his pain killers today, so now it will be a watch and wait game.  

And as far as Mark and I, we will continue to spend all the quality time we can with our dogs, no matter the fear that lies beneath.  

We will pray for all you that live this fear.   (((HUGS)))