It's 2006 all over again. This time our other dog, Tiny, is sick. Dad called me tonight, very upset. Turns out Tiny has not been eating the last few days. Today, she was throwing up white foam, and her legs were cramping. What else could I say but, "Take her to the vet!" Of course, my parents didn't want to - because they were afraid that the vet would put her to sleep. Easier said than done, but it's not what you 'want', but what is 'right'.
If Tiny is suffering, then it's time to let her go. She is a couple years younger than Bubbles was, but this year she reaches 15. The same age that Bubbles was when he had to leave us. I'm not as close to Tiny as I was to Bubbles, but my heart is breaking just the same. I hope I've convinced my parents that taking her to the vet tomorrow, no matter the outcome, is the right thing to do. Even if they don't want to. Unfortunately, I've been called into Jury Duty, so I can't go over to my parents house as I'd like to.
The younger years... Cocoa, Chelsea, Toby, Tiny, and Bubbles.
(Cocoa has also left us. She was taken in by a family friend, and last year died suddenly from an unknown illness.)
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