14 May 2006

sad eyes want to die

this morning i saw buffy, my grandma's dog. a bit about buffy: she enjoys rice krispies, chocolate, eggs, pasta, cheese, pastries--people food. shit zus are supposed to weight 13 or 14; buffy weighed 26 until not too long ago. buffy is 14.

about two months ago, buffy was diagnosed with cancer. the vet told my grandmother that she could:
  1. have another three or so months with buffy;
  2. put buffy to sleep;
  3. give buffy chemo, which might prolong her life another year.
my grandma was leaning towards option one, just letting buffy slowly go and eventually putting her to sleep, or letting her die. instead, my stupid aunt (who as my father says, "used to hate dogs, not give a shit about dogs, and suddenly she's the mother teresa of canines") convinced my grandmother to get chemo for buffy--not a cheap option. "you have to do it," my pushy aunt said. "i would borrow money if i had to do it." (this doesn't mention the fact that she once put a dog to sleep b/c it was old. that's when she didn't give a shit abt her dogs.)

so buffy has been undergoing chemo. the last time i saw buffy was about a month ago, and she just looked skinnier, but still like the buffy i've grown up with: the buffy who begs for food, who pees on the carpet when you excite her, who says hello to me. this time, i was in for a shock. i almost started crying.

buffy was skinnier: skinnier than probably a normal shit zu (so she probably weighed 12 pounds, maybe 10?), and she lost the fur on her face, giving her a bizarre and sad appearance. "she looks much better," grandma convinced me, but my heart ached. the worst was buffy's eyes.

in her emaciated, mostly-furless face, her eyes stuck out the most. they were filled with pain, with sadness, and i never saw an animal look like this. buffy was telling me, "please, i am in pain, i am suffering, i do not like this. please, let me go. this is not fair to me." her eyes were reaching out to me, and i knew she did not want to live anymore as she was living.

this i could not say to my grandmother. my grandma had seen the change slowly, but for me in buffy, the change was dramatic. instead, while my grandma fussed over where my father hung the fuscia my sister and i gave her for mother's day, i sat with buffy, talking to her, comforting her, telling her i loved her.

i hope buffy's pain does not continue too much longer. although i deeply love this dog (more than i've ever loved a dog), i do not want buffy to be in pain. if luna were like this, it would be hard, but i would need to let her go.

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