a doozy.

I've spoken of my constant hankering that the other shoe is about to drop. And in a way, it did. On Thursday night, M. and I decided that instead of laying low in Brooklyn for the weekend, we would head out to his parent's house in NJ. We thought they could use a visit and we also wanted to spend some time with M.'s grandpa, who hasn't been feeling too great.

After arriving on Friday night, I got a call from my mom. She told me she had bad news - the surgeon who had operated on Libby last week had called. My heart sank and I knew what she was going to say. When they sent the growth they had removed from Libby to the lab, they had found cancer. How unfair! Initially, when the vet had found the growth on Libby's adrenal gland, she had assured us that while it needed to be removed, it certainly did not look like cancer. And even after the surgeon went in and took out the growth, she was confident they had gotten it all out and there was no cancer to be found. Unfortunately, they were both wrong.

So what now? Libby will have chemo, which will prolong her sweet life and keep her feeling happy and comfortable. But they can't remove the cancer. They can't make it go away and cure her.

I'm sad. Very sad. There were a lot of tears this weekend and I'm still feeling out of sorts and on the verge of crying. My family has been through this once, when our beloved first golden retriever, Maho, died of lymphoma in 1997. The whole process was agonizing. I remember every time she laid down to nap, i would hold my head to her chest to make sure she was still breathing. I remember looking into her dark eyes, trying to figure out if she was in pain but never knowing. And in her last hours, she insisted on sleeping outside on the front step of our house, waiting patiently for my dad, her truest friend, to return home from a business trip so she could say goodbye. Oh hi, more tears.

That experience still makes my heart hurt. And i know i'm in for it again.

I know it worries M. to see me so upset. He's concerned that if I'm this distraught about Libby's diagnosis, will i be strong enough to handle worse things that come along? I reminded him last night that in my world, this is pretty bad. This is up there with things that break me a little bit.

Of course i'll be ok, of course we'll all get through this. In moments of clarity, when i was out running in the sun this weekend or laying in bed with my hands over my eyes, i am just thankful for the incredible years she has given us and i am understanding that it's time for her to go. But the rest of the time, i don't want to bare it and i want my girl to live with me forever. I can't understand why she wouldn't - how we bring these wonderful creatures into our lives and then have to let them go too soon.

In so many ways I saw this coming. As my dad said, we've been holding our breath since Libby turned 8, the age Maho was when she died. I can't say that makes it easier but in a way it does feel like the punch in the stomach that we've been bracing for has finally knocked the wind out of us and at least now we can deal with it instead of cowering in it's inevitability.

I suppose when you're a dog owner, you know this time will one day come and if you understand all the love and happiness that a dog like Libby can deliver to your life, you don't for a second consider that it wasn't worth it.