Remembering Chica

My dog died today.

Chica

Her name was Chica, she was eight years old, and she had been struggling with lung cancer for at least a month. We didn’t find this out, though, until yesterday, when my parents decided it would be better to put her down than let her struggle for the rest of her life. Because there isn’t a cure for lung cancer.

She was put down today. The vet came to our house and did it, very quickly, while the whole family held Chica and told her we loved her and that she was a very good girl. And then she stopped breathing and we knew it was all over. She was gone.

So, I just posted this to say I’m sorry if my posting goes a little out of sync. I’m kind of grieving right now, and I really just need some time before things can go back to normal.

Thank you, Chica, for the best third of my life. Rest in peace. ❤