The second life begins, it has to end. No way of getting around it. You grab the chance to take a breath, you know, at some point, there will be no more breaths.

And so in our journey, we opt to take chances, to get close to people and living things that will bring us great joy for perhaps a moment or for many years.

Pets fall into my category of joy. I cannot remember not having a pet in my life, be it a goldfish won tossing a ping pong ball into a fishbowl at a church carnival, tadpoles from the lake, a cat named Kiki, a black poo-dell named Brandy who would run down the halls of my dorm looking for me when my mom came to visit.

Anytime you adopt a pet to love, you know the time is fleeting. It took about two days for my goldfish to float. Kiki was a wild girl who loved the outdoors and she came home one day with a huge tear in her leg and that was that. I remember going into the vestibule at Our Lady of Perpetual Help and lighting candles for her recovery. She died. Brandy died while I was in college. After I got married, we had two schnauzers, Ravioli and Tortellini. Ravi went to live in a new home when Ryan was born because I was living in the hospital with him. Torti died from pancreatic issues at age 10.

Then came Sophie Rose followed by two baby schnauzers three years ago, Lucie Loo and Sweetie Pie.

Yesterday, our beloved Eskipoo, Sophie Rose, went in for a routine tooth pull. I went to pick her up and she was not ready so I came home and the phone rang. Sophie was dying. WHAT?? Dying. She spent all last week at the farm, running, playing … I was just at the vet’s office. No indications … apparently, when they drew blood it was thin and they tested it. Severe anemia. Organs failing. Not good. Why on earth she did not call to see if we still wanted the tooth out is beyond me. $500 to pull a tooth from a dog that had days to live.

Excuse me — ACCCCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sophie became a part of our family 9 years ago, about a month after we made the heart wrenching decision to place our severely autistic daughter, Stephanie, in a local residential facility for autistic children. In a funk, I stopped at a pet store out in the PA amish country and fell madly in love with this tiny white ball of fur that took a liking to me. I bought her, tucked her into my coat and carried her to the bus stop to show the kids when they got home from school. She did not take Steph’s place by any means, but the joy she brought to the kids helped a lot. She has been a great dog - sassy, sweet, snarly, a terror to the neighbor kids and a total white fluff of a diva.  She was forever in the trash … eats underwear … gets so excited when she sees me. Loves Andy. We had a great week with her at the farm. She curled herself into a laundry basket fluffed with an old blanket.

Ryan picked her up last night from the vet’s office and took her to their house.  Nick, my youngest, who had issues with the three dogs and refused to care for them, is a mess of emotions. I am not sure if it is because Sophie is going to die and he will not see her again OR because he may come home from school and find her lifeless. Ryan regrets being mean to her. I explained that dogs need to be scolded and that it did not make her sick.

Now we wait. She has days. Maybe a week. We keep her comfortable. Ryan just sent me a text message “she is still alive.” I told him to pet her. To love her. To enjoy the time with her.

Sigh ……………..

ml