2 months today. 2 months ago I was standing at the vet, hopeful that Alice could be fixed, filled with a dread that she couldn't. I took my time getting dressed that morning because in my heart I knew it was our last together. Even though she couldn't turn her head because of the slipped disc, even though she was panting and her eyes were bugged out from the GME, I didn't want the morning to end. She ate in our bed and even left a piece of kibble behind -- not her style.

The rest of the day, the waiting, the praying as I sent the $4500 estimate approval back to the surgeon, getting a kind co-worker to witness my willingness to pay, my willingness to grasp at the only straw offered me, are things I may never forget but hope to. Sitting with her body in a box, I know I won't forget. I also won't forget the kindness of Sheri from our regular vet's office who was waiting for me at the surgeon's office, or Linea who dropped whatever she was doing and came to sit with us, to say good bye.

In some ways it hurts more today than it did that day as I drove illegally in the carpool lane to get there, knowing she had already taken her last breath and I wasn't there to say goodbye as she left.