Honey was a gorgeous honey colored Shar-Pei. We hit it off immediately. She was my little buddy. Outside most of the time, when I would go out, I'd always say, "Hi Honey," when I saw her. And I'd do it again when I came home. She had the cutest, squishiest face ever. And her little curled up piggy tail would wag when she saw me.
On days when I had time to kill, I'd head over to her yard with treats and give her some pets, some scratchies and some play time. She loved to play. She would grab her toy, come running over to me and drop it at my feet. If I went to pick it up, she'd growl, but it was just part of her game. I'd grab it and toss it and she would run and run and run! She would grab it and then run around in circles, then come running at me and jump on me, dropping the toy again, starting the game all over. She loved to have a good time, my Honey girl.
Sometimes when I went to see her she would flop over on her back and give me her belly to rub. Other times she would burrow her head into my legs, hard, and rub and grunt. Such a sweet puppy. She was a rescue, but after a few weeks of having her, my neighbor didn't think she was going to keep her. She just didn't have the time to dedicate to having a dog. I thought about taking her and talked to my vet about the possibility of just that. But he was not really for it, since we already had 3 cats. He said Shar-Pei's can be unpredictable. As it turned out, my neighbor couldn't part with her anyway so it didn't matter. I got all the fun of hanging out with her and none of the responsibility.
And then this past fall I noticed a very large growth on Honey's leg. It didn't look good, not at all. And when I asked about it, my neighbor said the vet was running tests on her, they didn't know if it was cancer or not but were thinking she may have to have her leg amputated. A few days later, Honey had a big old cone collar (or as I like to call them, satellite dishes) around her head but the tumor and leg were still there. I was told they wanted to run more tests, because she had now stopped eating.
And then, Honey was gone. Days went by and I didn't see her sweet face outside anymore. I kept looking out my kitchen window into her backyard, but she was never there. My worry was really amping up because once an animal stops eating, things are really bad. I looked and looked for her, but a week went by and she wasn't out. I tried to think positive... maybe she did have her leg amputated and was recovering. Not that that's positive, but it's better than the other thought going through my head.
Finally one day, I saw my neighbor and went out to talk to her. My worst fear was realized. Honey was gone. She had to be euthanized because not only did she have the big tumor in her leg, but she had several others throughout her body, including one in her throat. And I cried, cried like she was my own and I'd lost her. And I still miss her and look out my window for her. She was only 5 years old.
|Honey, in her yard. Don't you just want to squeeze her face!|