My Australian Shepherd will be 14 this April.

I hope she lives to see that birthday…and as many days more as she can, without pain.

She was diagnosed with a deadly disorder called GME that blinded her in her left eye when she was 5.

She went through a year of subcutaneous chemotherapy.

It didn’t slow her down.

She takes care of me – she always has.

She’s a herding dog – she takes care of me like it’s her job.

She has cancer now.

She is very hard of hearing.

She doesn’t have much vision left.

Her wonderful vet has put her on medications to help with her symptoms.

She sleeps more.

She has fallen into the pool so is leash walked in the yard.

She loves to eat – and for the first time ever, she gets an extra scoop of food in the morning.

Her pills are wrapped in cheese. She gobbles them down.

But…

After the pool incident, I dried her and brushed her out.

Her collar was way too big. I took it in.

I rub my hands over her, and she is so so thin.

My girl. My sweet Mitzi girl.

She’s not in pain.

She’s not ready.

I’ll never be ready.

In the mean time, she’s still taking care of me.