07/07/2019
Mya recently had surgery for what we all thought was an enlarged salivary gland.
Ten days later, our vet called with the biopsy results. Mya was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer. So when the vet broke the news…we fell to pieces. We were gently informed that while treatment options were available, we are concerned about the impact of another surgery, that might or might not buy her a little time. We just can’t put her through more to have her maybe a little longer, that we feel we be selfish on our part.
But as much as we love our pets, we could endure the end stages either now or later.
We are opting for now, which means we have according to our vet, 2 weeks to 2 months. Mya’s cancer, we’re told, will move fast. When she’s uncomfortable and there’s nothing left to do, we will end her life. And it has been a great life. She has traveled on land and water and seen more of the country than most folks.
On June 13, 2008, our girl arrived. She was beautiful fur ball, four oversized paws, and two bottomless brown eyes that saw straight into our hearts. We named her Mya Rose. I immediately bought her a girly pink collar and leash to match. (She has had doggy accessories in every shade of pink since.)
We don’t want to lose Mya and we look at her, still relatively normal, and find it impossible to believe the speed and finality of what is to come. I put aside my book or iPad more often now so I can return her unconditional gazes, trying to record in my mind the feeling of her love.
To be a pet owner these days means inevitably exposing one’s self to feelings of guilt, we don’t want to feel guilty. We will have enough emotions to contend with. We’re going to brace ourselves and then we will grieve. It’s going to be a hard time. But we believe this is the right choice. You may not. That’s fine. We won’t judge you, so don’t judge us.
Mya has never been stingy with her affection. Whether it’s a dramatic tail-wagging greeting at the door, a paw asking to be petted, or licking our feet good-night every night, she is always letting us know we are loved. So now more than ever, we’ve been completely focused on making Mya as happy and comfortable as possible. She gets extra snuggles, a few more treats, doggy massages, and daily strolls to her favorite spots. Why do we wait until the latest possible moment to shower our loved ones with the attention and affection we know they deserve. It’s not until we’re reminded of the fragility of life that we start grabbing onto it with both hands.
Now days, Mya is more subdued and calm but still continues to enjoy her favorite parts of life, just differently. She is perfectly content to sit by us watching her little world pass by. Mya is still here and we are oh so grateful, and we’re doing our best to replace sadness with gratitude and focus on the now: the now when we can still enjoy walks, just at a slower pace. The now when she eats her food with gusto and looks up for more even after gobbling up the biggest bowl. The now where just being together is a cherished gift.
When something painful is happening to someone you love, it forces you to put things into perspective. You reflect on the impact they’ve had on your life, and how it will feel to continue on without them.
Does our heart ache whenever we imagine our family without Mya? Of course. But do we regret our decision? Not even for a moment. That gorgeous girl with a bright pink collar has an amazing life where she’s loved and gives love every waking moment. And with each day, our unexpected teacher has helped us understand what truly matters.
