The Lovely Serena

Serena is a fawn colored greyhound who came to live with us at age five. Last week, at age fifteen, the vet told us she had osteosarcoma in her left front humerus.

 

There isn't much you can say after that, you know? It went from a limp that we thought was from my not cutting her nails back far enough to being told she'd be gone in a few weeks. We've been through this before, unfortunately. Mandy our lovely Rottweiler – for whom my ecommerce website is name – died of osteosarcoma at age six. It was horrible – she was so young, but so very brave and strong all the way to the end.

 

We first saw Serena at a greyhound picnic. We used to attend them on a yearly basis – from the group we adopted all our greyhounds from. She was shy and reddish colored and her foster mother wanted to keep her. We told her should she decide to give her up, please give us a call. A few days later she called – after discussing it with her husband, and decided that it was a good thing to adopt her out to a home with experienced greyhound owners and two greyhound sisters. And besides – my hair color was the same as Serena's – that and promising not to change her name finalized it for her, she said.

Of the greys we've met and the greys we've owned, she is the shyest and the most tentative. It took her a full year to climb up on the sofa. I remember DH and me cheering that step as if she'd just invented penicillin or something!

 

Over the years she's been perfectly healthy and well mannered, never a problem at all. Other than shots and teeth, she's made no trips to the vet. She sleeps, she runs, she eats, she's a greyhound. She is a fast runner, she LOVES TO RUN. Up until two weeks ago she would run around our yard every morning – even when she was huffing and puffing her being 93 in human years! I kept telling her to take it easy, but she just loves to run and who am I to stop her? I wish I had known the last day I was going to see her run full on – I would have paid closer attention. I was probably cleaning the yard while she was running around. I was probably nagging her to slow down instead of wowing over her prowess.

She loves people, she loves dogs and cats, I doubt she's ever met anything she didn't like. Of all the dogs we've ever had, I think she's most people's favorites – she just loves to walk up and lean against people – begging for petting.

Of course, when you first get this diagnosis, you don't believe it. Even though I knew it was probably true, I kept looking at that shoulder and couldn't see any difference. I gave her the pain meds – which don't seem to have any affect – she limps just as she did before the diagnosis.

But then the swelling started today – seems like overnight her shoulder got bigger. Not sore to the touch, limping is the still the same. Damn – it's true. I knew it, but I guess I was waiting for that sign.

We have a process here – when we know we're about to lose a furkid. When you've had as many as we've had, we've had cancer, heart trouble, liver and kidney ailments. We watch for signs – eating, pooping, sleeping, anxiety, tail wagging (if it's a dog). We try to pick three things the animal does or likes the best. And when those three things are affected by the disease, we make the decision to let them go. It's a blessing and a curse. I'm honored to be able to do this for my furkids -- for all the years of unconditional love they've given me, I'm honored to be able to help them ease their way over the Bridge. But, many times it's not them getting ready to die; it's me getting ready to let them go. I suppose Serena won't care if I'm a day early or a day late making the decision – she'll wait for me to get ready to let her go.

Serena is still eating well, pooping well – she's always been pretty anxious about things, so I can't go by that. The limp is no different – although I will say today it looks a bit worse to me, but DH says I'm reading into things. Her tail is still thumping like crazy, and she still tries to run to me when I'm too far away from her outside.

I know her time is near – maybe by next weekend. I'm already worrying about how and where to do it. I don't like her vet – in fact, I dread trying to get her metacam renewed without having to take her in (she really doesn't like the car these days – and just doesn't like this vet at all). We have taken our kids to the shelter – they have a small room they use, and it's very nice and quiet and we can remain with them. They accept donations – which is great for me because this vet wants $140 to handle it and after two vet visits this month, I just don't have it.

I want to put all that aside and just concentrate on Serena this week – spend time without nagging her. Although at 15 she's pretty deaf, I keep talking to her like she can hear me – and more importantly can understand me. Thankfully the weather is nice enough – other than today, it's been pretty mild so that's not adding to her discomfort. She loves to go outside and sleep on the warm dirt and wag her tail and run her legs while sleeping. She was quite a track runner in her day – and apparently she's still awfully good in her dreams as well – she's almost as active asleep as awake.

She's getting ready, I can tell she's getting tired of limping, but she's still loving her breakfast. But I know that will change soon and quickly. And then she'll be ready.

I'll be ready soon too, I promise Serena.