Sashi and a foster kitten about a year ago. In her later years, she wore diapers due to incontinence.
Sashi sharing her bed with a foster kitten. In the later years of her life, she wore diapers due to a leaky bladder.A few days ago, my dog Sashi passed on. She was having constant seizures from a brain tumor. My husband and I adopted her about six years ago, when she was probably around seven years old. She already had a little gray hair but not nearly as much as she had when she passed.
An earlier moment of Sashi cuddling with a foster kitten. So many loved her.
An earlier picture of Sashi with a foster kitten. So many loved her.She was the most gentle soul who had a ferocious sounding bark, making her a good watch dog and a good family dog. She loved our cats and was gentle with our foster kittens. The only time she ever snarled was when another animal tried to get between her and her food, but she never did more than growl and snap.
On walks by the park she was always up for a good pet from a neighbor kid excited to see a dog. She had a happy prancing gate that made everyone smile.
Here’s a video of her playing with my cat Lux when Lux was still a kitten.
Rest in peace, Sashi. You will always be in our hearts.
Today I was going to talk about how lucky I am to be able to be a writer an to be releasing my fourth book on this very day. Then my husband woke me up at 5:30 AM because our dog couldn’t walk. We rushed her to the hospital. About twenty minutes ago, the doctor told us that she might have a brain tumor or she might just have idiopathic “old dog” vestibular disease. The only way to know for sure today would be to get an MRI, which is a *quite* pricey. So instead we’ll wait to see if she improves and go from there.
Sashi in younger days. This was not long after we adopted her. We figure she was about seven. That makes her 13 now.
I’m still lucky to be a writer and have a new book. I’m lucky to have a great, supportive husband, as well as friends and family. I’m lucky to live in a place where my dog can get treatment, even if it ends up mostly being supportive care for her final days.
I’m also on an up-and-down emotional ride, but, then, aren’t we all?