Noah died today.
I can hardly believe I’ve typed that. He was fine last night, and then, this morning, he was not fine at all.
The vet said that she saw a mass on his spleen and that the mass had ruptured. His abdominal cavity was full of fluid which was presumed to be blood, based on his symptoms. She said that it has been her experience that that is cancer and the prognosis is grim. For a pretty penny, we could’ve had her open him up and have a look, but the single digit percentage of patients who had benign tumors was not a good enough indication for it, in my opinion. Even if we had the money to put him through all that, the life expectancy with that kind of cancer is mere months after the surgery.
He went peacefully while I stroked the soft fur of his head and neck.
I am amazed at how God looked out for Noah. The tumor could’ve ruptured in the middle of a busy week and we might not have noticed for a whole day. As it was, we noticed first thing in the morning and got on it. This could’ve happened when we were flat broke a couple of weeks ago. Things have been really tight, but I happened to have enough to give me the confidence that the vet wouldn’t turn us away, which seems to be standard practice at the clinic where I took him.
Noah was the second of two great dogs after a really trying dog experience. Let’s just say that beagles need room to run and bark and play and run and bark. Noah and Rocky were both very obviously gifts from God. We couldn’t have been better matched.
I am thankful to God for giving us nearly 8 years with Noah and for not allowing him to suffer a lot before he died.
I love you, Noah. Rest in piece, faithful friend.