When it's time, you know.

And it's not even Abby. Abby's doing great! With the black humor that someone with a terminal dog understands, the Crippled, Old, Dying Girl is still bouncing through her days. She's got a special ride when we go camping (I've got to get the pictures up on the picturetrail page...when I do, I'll post the link) and well, if you couldn't see the tumor on her tongue, you wouldn't know she was sick.

My heart is sad over Lacy. One of the few dogs who are still with the families who got them in NorSled's "Woodland 12" rescue effort (her sister Cheyenne is still here too), Lacy has just been a fixture here at Kaos. When the doorbell rings, it's Lacy's Big Dog WOO that answers it. You'd think we had a Rottweiler answering the door! But no, it's that petite little red girl announcing the door...just in case we've missed the sound of the bell.

Lacy's light went out late last week. I noticed she wasn't coming upstairs to sleep anymore...and figured that she's getting stiff and sore...understandable. Then Saturday, it happened. The doorbell rang and Lacy didn't. My heart froze in fear....and I'm sure that the color drained from my face. I went looking for Lacy...not sure where I'd find her or what I'd find. There she was, lying in a crate, just looking at me. "I'm done, Mom...I'm just done." That's what her eyes told me. "I'm not ready, Lacy; give me some more time" was my response. She'll give me all the time I need, I know. But it's not doing her any good....and no matter how much time I have, I won't be ready.

I rang the bell multiple times all weekend, just waiting to hear a hint of Lacy's response.....and I'm still waiting. There's no bobble-head dance on the way to the door to go potty after being inside all day. In fact, she waits for me to go over to her crate and escort her outside for a potty trip.

Selfishly, I want to delay long enough that she just goes to sleep and doesn't wake up. I want her to take that decision away from me. But that's not the promise I made to any of the dogs. When it's their time, I'll let them go with dignity, love and tears. The tears are already here....

The dogs know. They walk quietly past her, sometimes sticking a nose in the crate to say hi other times just walking by without looking. I think, for them, she's already gone. Her spirit certainly is. And later this week, I'll help her body follow...I still won't be ready though.