Thursday I left home on a work trip, and there was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. Christian called me on Saturday as I made the trek home and said that her tumor was significantly larger and hard as a rock. To make matters worse, she had a slight limp. I made arrangements to make an emergency vet visit that evening. She had fallen earlier that day, and we wanted to make sure there was nothing broken. We got some pain meds and few answers to why the sudden change. However, there was still hope. Then, Sunday happened.
On Sunday morning we discovered Sydney with slight traces of blood. At first it seemed she had licked the tumor until it bled, but as the day progressed it bled more and more. We knew the second she tried to stand that morning that this was going to be our last day with her. She was barely able to stand, and when she would try her back legs would give way. It was heartbreaking to watch as she struggled just to go to the bathroom. Oddly enough, she would somehow struggle to get up and make it to her bowl at feeding time. We would then hold her up as she ate, and we fed her a lot that day. We fed her everything she could possible want - pancakes, hamburger, dog ice cream, blackberries. We stayed by her side throughout the day. She and I spent the night on the living room floor. At one point she rolled over on her side so that she was touching me. I cherish that moment of knowing that I could be close to her while she was in pain. She slept very little that night. There were only two hours where I truly felt she rested. As the hours passed, I was thankful we were getting closer to the time when the vet's office would be open. This was not because I wanted to lose her, but I just could not watch her suffer any longer. The bandages I wrapped her leg in were covered in blood, and when I would touch her she would flinch.
I carried her into the vet's office wrapped in a towel. As I laid her down, our vet just said, "Oh, Syd." I am not sure why that stands out in my mind, but it just confirmed what I already knew. As we waited for them to insert her catheter and bring her to us, we cried and reminisced about our beautiful girl. Tonya, who works there, carried in my girl and laid her on the blanket in the floor. It was so right that it was Tonya as she loved our girl too. She leaned down to kiss that beautiful cranium and told Sydney that she loved her. This speaks volumes about Sydney and her impact on those around her. It still brings tears to my eyes when I think of that moment. I laid on the floor with my girl as she took her last breath. My face buried in the softest fur on the back of her head. Christian was there stroking her head. Leaving her behind was the most difficult thing I have ever done.
Sydney was my rock. She made me better. Her love made me the animal lover I am today. I never thought I could feel this attachment to a dog, but she was so much more than that. She was a part of me, and while I will always have those memories, that hole that was left by Katie just got a lot bigger. Fifteen years just doesn't seem like long enough.
