LALA

This is my dog: Lala. 

It's a she, actually. And she is dying. Sha has been dying for a while, since the beginning of Summer, I guess. By that time, we did'nt know what was going wrong with her. We took her to the vet and the doctor said she had an inflamed ganglion, next to trachea, which was why she had ( and still has) an aweful cough 

(All of my friends laugh and laugh every time she coughs. That makes me so angry and sad because that is why she is dying and they're laughing, indirectly and unconsciously, of that).

But, last week, my parents took her back to the vet, and the doctor said: "Oh, after all it is more than WE thought! She has a cancer" And me and my parents were like: Oh, ok. thank you for telling us that now, when we already figured. 

Yes, we figured because my mom is a doctor herself. And my father took care of her during this whole time and he knew. Deep down he knew. So, they had already discussed it with me.

But today, when I got home, my father almost ran over her because she didn't leave the front of the car as she always do. She couldn't move. She was completely paralyzed!

When we were able to pass, I looked at her and she was not walking right. She was wandering from the right to the left as she was about to fall down at any moment.

I've never seen her like that! So fragile, so sick, se weak! 

I felt useless whatching her suffering so much. My dad called her and she almost crawled up inside the house, where he was. She was unable to climb the one and only step and, for a moment, I really thought she was going to get smashed on the floor.

It hurts so bad because I grew up with her. I now, she's a dog. Or it is a dog, for some people. 

But... God! She always was so nice, and sweet, and unable to hurt anybody (even flies or birds)! She was useless as a guardian dog and, except when there were mouses around, I never heard her barking. She was really a lady! So well behaved: she sat down and lie down when she was told to, she went to the street only with a finger-pointing, she just went for the ball when we said "go", she whatched me hang out the clothes from her little bed and I felt that she liked to hear me sing to her.

I lived with her next to me since I was 4. In other words, I do not remember living without her. And it pains me to think that, if she survives to this night, we're going to have to kill her. Or, using an euphemism, we're going to have to slaughter her.

I can't stop crying. Yes, she is a dog and it can seem stupid, but she is MY dog. My Lala. My Wave (her real name). And it hurts whatching her like that. I don't want to see her in that pain! I just don't. But it hurts more knowing that I'm going to have a word in taking her life away, in taking her away from me.

My dad can not feed her anymore. She is not eating a thing. And she is not even coughinh anymore! While I was crying (call me stupid and crazy and hypocrite) right next to her, I saw a tear drop in her eye. And I cried even more.

That's life, I know. But it hurts, anyway.

I've got some more pictures of her in the hard disk. I'll upload them later for you.

I wish you had known her. Or see how cute and yellow she is so you could fall in love as I did in the first time I saw her. I still remeber that day, in Alentejo, as it had been yesterday. I wont' forget what I felt right after I look at her: I loved her. I still do.

I'll check on her. Love you all, Maria.