I haven’t been able to write about it until now. Several weeks ago, my twelve year old yorkie Audrey got sick. She had fainted a few times before, I thought it was a balance issue due to her thickening cataracts, and her hearing loss. But this time, she didn’t bounce back. I could tell something was really wrong. Her ears were laid back, and she couldn’t get comfortable. And then she gave me the look. It was as clear as if she had spoken in words: it’s time for me to go.

I took her to the vet the next day, and they confirmed what I already knew. She was full of tumors, and most likely would not survive surgery. Even if she did, there were so many tumors that it was most likely malignant cancer. She was bleeding in her abdomen. I had never directly experienced putting a pet “down” before. The vet was very sweet as he explained what would happen, and I stayed with her until she was asleep. I kissed her on her still warm cheek, and thanked her for being such a loyal friend.

I got Audrey and her brother Alfie when they were only six weeks old. They traveled with me all the way from Nashville to California for a year, licked many tears from my face, and brought about much laughter. Alfie died when he was eight, and Audrey died exactly one day before the four year anniversary of his death. Grieving her passing has taken me through so many different memories of the past twelve years. The love of a dog is unconditional, always present, and never holding a grudge. There’s much to learn from these little (and big) ones.

Audrey and Alfie in the snow

sweet girl

good sport

Audrey always wanted to be on my stomach when I was pregnant

She did a great job of putting up with Finn’s curiosity and excitement about her ears