I buried my dog’s ashes yesterday. Outside next to the succulents, where she had already started a small hole:

Abby liked to dig. She was always digging holes in the backyard – usually, to lie in. She also had valley fever and was on meds for years because of it. (Valley fever comes from a fungus found in the ground that attacks the lungs after spores are inhaled. Dogs that like to dig are susceptible to this disease in the SW)

In the spring, I was worried that Liana, my cat, had cancer. Her problem was a rotten tooth.

My dog’s case was not a tooth, but a tumor. A giant one in her spleen.

Her red blood cell count was way low.

No wonder she seemed so tired.

I’m glad I found out ahead of time and knew what the expect (somewhat). What surprised me a lot, was my dog’s will to live. She was really trying to stay with us as long as she could.

I wrote a poem for her that I read for her memorial yesterday:

For Abby

Every time I put my key in the lock
It hits me the hardest.
That you’re no longer here
To greet me at the door
Tail wagging.

My heart rips again.

I miss you so much.

There will never be another you.

How many other dogs ~

* like raw broccoli?

* are terrified by jug music?

* don’t much care for playing in the water?

* never met anyone who wasn’t a friend?

I hope you have plenty of balls to play with,
As well as other dogs.

There will never be another you.

I’ve given away all your food and treats
And put away your bed and bowl.

I won’t give these away.

For there may be another dog
In the future.

But there will never be another you.

I feel really lucky to have been able to bury her ashes in the back yard.

She (like so many others) was good, good dog.