Scan Appointment

So I was lucky today. I got an appointment for my PET scan this coming Wednesday. I didn't think I'd get in that soon, but I'm glad. As I was talking with the lady doing the scheduling, I felt a panic attack coming on. The problem is, when I don't think about all of this, I'm fine. When I'm reminded of the reality, I panic, fighting back the tears and fears.

I had a sad time in bed early this morning, thinking about Gunny.  I love her so much.  As a retired/rescued greyhound, you sign a contract with the rescue group, that if for any reason you cannot keep the dog, you must return the dog to the group.  Which means, if I die, Gunny goes back to the group and they will rehome her with prescreened adopters, so she would never be in danger or ever have to suffer. Jack would not be in a position to continue to care for her. Thinking about how confused she would be, maybe even scared just hurts me.  She was shy and scared when I first brought her home, she only trusted me. It took some time, but Jack was added to her tiny circle of trusted humans.  She has mellowed with age and seems to accept strangers coming into the house or even when we take her out, allowing some to pet her.  But we are always with her during those times. And cookies help.  I've just always kept my dogs until they died, even after their death, as I have their ashes, never wanting to have the thoughts of not knowing where they were or how they were being treated.  I never thought I'd ever go before my dog.  God willing, I won't this time either.

My beautiful Gunny