Howdy Y'all, hope everyone is doing fine these days.  Happy to see Paw Paw
sending in his wonderful stories!  On to my topic reply...
 
My mom and I were talking one day about what I would do when one of the fur
kids passed on to the Rainbow Bridge.  She had just lost a friend to a car
accident and her friend's family had taken her 4 dogs to the funeral home
to say good-bye.  I told her that I would take them to the vet's (if it
hadn't happened at home) to see their friend one more time and say good-bye
since anytime one has to stay overnight at the vet's they look for him.
 
As things go that afternoon I noticed my dad's dog, Frances, was drooling
horribly.  I took her to the emergency vet thinking she had gotten into
some poison or something.  The vet took her to the back to do some tests
and found a HUGE tumor in the roof of her mouth and going down her throat.
It was a horrible sight to say the least.  (She had been eating, drinking
and pooping fine) Even though she wasn't my dog, she didn't spend much time
with anyone but my dad, I broke down because I knew there was nothing we
could do for her, it was inoperable.  (It was determined by a biopsy that
she had an extremely fast growing cancer and since she was tumor free 3
months before).
 
The the short of it is, the vet cleaned her up, put her on antibiotics and
I brought her home where she had a week of love and attention before she
stopped eating and drinking completely.  The hardest thing was determining
her quality of life.  She never acted sick, never yelped or moaned,
nothing but the drooling.  She would run and run in the fields, the rest
of her body and mind were free of cancer but she had to be in pain.  My
determination of quality of life is if she couldn't do what she needed or
wanted to do.  Since my dad was still in denial I was elected to stay with
her at the end.  She gave me a look that I like to think was a thank you or
a don't be sad look and a sense of peace came over me.  She slipped quietly
off to Rainbow Bridge where she waits with all the rest of our loved furry
ones.
 
We had her cremated and the vet left a message that freaked the heck out
of my dad.  In a very upbeat tone, "Frances is back and ready to be picked
up."  He thought he was losing his mind.  Mom has made a little shrine with
candles and her picture and urn.  Her house mate, who said good-bye to her
at the vet's, will go and sniff it everyday.
 
Quality of life is a personal thing and the hardest decision I have ever
had to make.
 
A blessing on all your houses.
Laura and the cinco hurones del infierno
[Posted in FML issue 2973]