So the week before Spring Break, on Tuesday, I got a call from my mom. I was at the park with Amy and her roommate's dog Granger. Granger is a puppy and Amy and I regularly have Tuesday dates where we gossip and play with the puppy. I answered the phone no big deal and my mom said she had some news. I had no clue what was coming. She proceeded to tell me that Martie, my greyhound, was doing really badly Monday night and when she was standing, she couldn't lay down and when she was laying down, she couldn't get up. Then my mother told me that early that morning they took Martie to the vet and she and my Dad had to make the heart wrenching decision to have Martie 'put down'. I knew she hadn't been doing well and I knew that this day was coming but I wasn't ready for it. When I was in 8th grade, I volunteered at a greyhound adoption society. I worked at the Petsmart with the society and we tried to get the dogs adopted to loving families. It was the second week that I was working with them that I saw the most beautiful dog. She was a smaller greyhound, obviously a runt of the litter, and I walked her around and stayed with her. When I looked at her, I winked. She winked back. She was perfect. She had a champagne colored coat and she had the most adorable overbite. We adopted her and took her home. She and Ginger had some altercations at first but grew to love each other. She was my dog, I picked her out, I loved her longest. I miss her so incredibly much. Even though I didn't see her much when I was in college, knowing that she was waiting for me at home gave me comfort. This was not how I wanted to preface my spring break.
Spring break finally rolls around and Mom and I go to Dallas with Mindy and Annie. We had a really great time and it was such a nice break from the news of Martie. On our way home, Dad called Mom about the vet visit the Ginger had earlier Monday morning. We learned that Ginger had cancer of the kidneys, bladder, liver and lungs etc. I was devastated. We didn't know how long she was going to have and I didn't want to face losing my other dog so quickly to Martie's passing. Friday of spring break, I woke up past noon and Emma was getting ready to leave. Ginger had been panting all morning apparently. I pet her some and she was laying in front of the couch. Mom came home and she and Emma and Dad were packing up her car so Emma could leave. I was just sitting with Ginger. Emma left. While Mom and Dad and Emma were outside, Ginger was acting odd, she arched her back and got her head caught under the couch but i fixed it and she was just leaning on me. I didn't know what to do so I screamed out for Mom and Dad. No one came. I was terrified, all I could do was blubber, "its ok, you're gonna be ok" to Ginger. When Mom and Dad returned an eternity later, Dad called the vet and they said we could bring her in and stay with her. She couldn't get up and Dad had to carry her in a blanket. We had just gotten her into the vet's office and on the table when I saw her chest wasn't moving. It was awful. All I could do was scream to the vets, "She's not breathing, help! She's not breathing!" I was hysterical and so were my parents. We were losing our baby. Our first puppy, we'd had her since she was a little little puppy. We'd had her for at least 11 years but I still wanted more from her. Which I suppose was unfair of me. I've had dogs since I was in first grade and don't know how to not have them in my life. This has been the hardest two weeks I've had to endure in the longest time....