A Personal Post

My heart is breaking and I don’t know what else to do to relieve the pressure, so I am writing.

My dog has cancer. Splenatic, metastasized. She has days, not weeks. Hopefully the Angel will come for her in her sleep, without trauma, and without the need for artificial means. This is my prayer, but I know I could be put in the heart-wrenching position of determining when enough is enough.

There are folks that I know will not ever understand how a grown woman could be so incredibly upset about losing her dog, but I also know that there are those who understand on the deepest level. Their hearts also bear the scars of losing a beloved pet.

I’m sure everyone says this, but my Perdy is special. Special not only because she has been my constant companion every day, 24/7 for the last 11 years. Special not just because she’s smart, beautiful, loyal, protective, and has a perky personality. She is all those things, and more.

But there is something else. Something for which I owe her a deep debt that will be graven on my heart forever. She saved my daughter.

The day a pedophile (yes, he’s now a known pedophile) pulled into our driveway and tried to see how close he could get to snatching away my daughter, my dog stood between him and my precious girl. Perdy barked in a crazed, aggressive, alert-mode fashion, so loud and insistent, that I ran out the garage door. I arrived just before he got to my then pre-teen daughter.

Had I not entered the scene when I did, there is no doubt in my mind that my dog would have made hamburger meat of his ass. He was about ten feet away from my daughter, but only about four feet away from the dog, and daughter was rather struggling against the leash. Had she let go there would have been blood. And he would have deserved everything Perdy gave him and more.

So you see, plainly, clearly. My dog is special.

Thank you, my Baby. You will be so missed.