Cancer lets the terrorists win.

As most of you already know, my dog Molly was put to sleep on Friday. She was diagnosed with cancer last year, lost a leg, and had one more great year before the pernicious bastard came back for her insides. She was ten, and I loved her like I never loved anything in my life.

There will of course be a piece written about this, but not yet.

Everyone has been incredibly wonderful to me the past couple of days; huge ups to Libby Smallwood for Steel Magnolias-ing it with me at the vet's office, and Action Jackie not checking up on me, at all, repeatedly. And to all the rest of you, who knew Molly only through me or online, for telling me all the ways cancer can eat a bag of dicks, in so many words--actually, not "so many" words: yours. And I loved every one of them.

Thanks, you guys.


Tessannes said…
I miss her.
Sarah Beedoo said…
Me too, Momma.

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