When I was 10, I was attending my great grandfather’s funeral. While at the seminary, I was wandering around and out popped Zelda from some bushes! She was very thin, definitely a stray. About 2 years old. My family took her home that day, and she’d been my best friend ever since. We had several good and long years together. When she was 16 years old, she suddenly started acting strange, didn’t want to do anything other than sleep and eat. After a day or so of that and a trip to the vet, we where told she had a type of Angiosarcoma. She had a fleshy mass in her abdomen about the size of a softball. The vet told us that the mass was blood filled and it wasn’t a matter of if it would burst, but when. And so to save her the pain of going through that we had to put her down a few days later. Her last days she was treated like the royalty that she was. Any kind of food she wanted. She got a special place on my bed. (She normally couldn’t get on the bed because of her arthritis.) And each time she wanted up or down I would carry her. She was definitely worth it.
