Luna in the Late Night Revisited

I woke up Monday night at 3:00 am to the sound of Luna peeing on the floor. Luna doesn’t pee on the floor in the middle of the night. She woofs. When I went out into the kitchen, I found inordinate amounts of vomit. My dog is very sick. Luna wanted out, so I let her as I scrubbed the floor. She lay in the grass far from the house in the dark, the overcast night muffling her ragged breathing. I lay down with her in the dew, curled against her back. Twelve years we have been doing this. If she stretched out from paw to paw, we would probably be the same height. “I love you, Luna,” I whispered, and then we lay quiet, until the cold seeped into my bones and I began to shiver. She stood up for me, staggered towards the house, and lay down before she reached the porch. I had to carry up her up the stairs.

Almost 48 hours later now she’s got an IV in her front leg in a pet hospital 45 minutes away. It could be bacteria, it could be cancer. My girl is getting old. I did not like coming home to her empty bed tonight.