by Christine Gray

For the past couple of months I have been worrying about Beeler, our Beagle and Blue Heeler mix we got from the Humane Society many years ago. Beeler and my daughter took an instant liking to each other and have been inseparable friends as only a dog and a child can be. Beeler is ten and a half years old now, and my daughter has gone off to college, yet the bond persists.

Recently my daughter discovered five or six little lumps in various places on the dog and asked me to take her to the vet and get them checked out. By my own admission, I’ve chickened out of taking the dog to the vet. I don’t want to deal with another being I love dealing with cancer or some other disease that may lead to its demise, and a family member like a dog is awfully close. Not that I wouldn’t handle it if she turned out to be sick, it was just an excuse for me to procrastinate for a while. So when my daughter came home for Spring Break and asked me yet again to get the dog checked out, I made the appointment and asked her to come with me.

Luckily for me when my daughter chose attending college she set her heart on going to CSU, less than an hour drive from our house. I would have sent her anywhere, happy in seeing her set off on a new life of her own choosing, but my heart would have cracked a little, too, letting her go so fast and so far. It’s been nice having her on her own, but not so far away that we can’t have a Sunday dinner, or she can’t drop by now and then to just say hello.

Little did I realize, though, the effect her leaving would have on Beeler. My daughter had gone away to camp in the past, sometimes for a month at a time, so when she first moved out Beeler gave no sign of anything being different. Gradually, as weeks turned into months, Beeler became more lethargic. Her usual perkiness disappeared. She began just sitting around and sulking. I swear if it had been possible I would have found her with a box of tissues crying away her days. She’d always been such a smart and expressive little dog. This is one of the most appealing things about her and the change was a radical one. It suddenly occurred to me that Beeler was in mourning.

At that time I often had reason to go to Fort Collins and sometimes stopped by the school to say hello to my daughter. I took Beeler with me, and show her where Megan was. My husband thought I had a screw loose that I thought this would make a difference to the dog, but being thought crazy isn’t the worst thing that could happen to me, so I took the dog anyway.

I parked in the lot across from my daughter’s dorm and waited for her to get back from class. I let Beeler explore a little and pass the few minutes until I knew we’d see my daughter. As soon as I saw Megan, one among many hundred students swarming our way, I told Beeler to look for her. If I could see my daughter, I knew the dog surely would be able to pick her out. Beeler looked at me, turned and looked in the direction I was pointing, and scanned the crowd intently as I said, “Megan, Beeler, go get Megan,” over and over again. Suddenly, she gathered herself into a tight little ball and exploded away from me, running with every ounce of energy in her being. She leaped up on Megan, barely getting her obese self much higher than Megan’s knees, but ecstatic in her jumping anyway. I never saw the dog happier.

After that she never seemed sad in the same way again, though sometimes she does miss Megan. It was as if she understood Megan was fine, she just didn’t live with us anymore. I make a point of taking Beeler with me once in a while if I am going by my daughter’s house. Once or twice my daughter has taken Beeler home with her for a weekend. It might sound unbelievable, but I know this animal thought Megan was dead, and her heart was broken as a result. She truly was like a person who finds a loved one they thought was lost.

This morning I woke my daughter up. Together we took Beeler for her early morning appointment. Megan carefully pointed out to the vet each lump and its exact location. He patiently examined the dog and felt around and found an additional lump Megan hadn’t found. He picked up a needle and took a biopsy of it and put the liquid on a slide. “Pure grease,” he said, holding the slide up to the light. “Just a fatty tumor.” He said he was sure all the other ones were fatty tumors, too. The one he biopsied had felt a little different, so he had made sure it wasn’t anything to be concerned about. Fatty tumors can grow and need to be removed sometimes, but in and of themselves, they won’t hurt the dog. They certainly won’t kill her.

Beeler bounded joyfully out to the car to go home. The tightness in my daughter’s expression was gone. She smiled again as she hadn’t in several days. I could feel her relief as deeply as my own, and all for the love of an animal. Our companion and friend for many years was okay. As soon as they got home Megan took Beeler out for a long walk. I guess I learned something today. Procrastinating has no effect on outcomes, and delaying an action won’t make it good if it isn’t meant to be. So take your dog to the vet. Don’t live today based upon what’s happened yesterday. Sometimes, the news can actually be good.

Oh, and long life and good health to us all, dogs included.