My sister surprised our mother with a Chihuahua puppy for her birthday in 2001. My mother had met the puppy while my sister was fostering her and had fallen madly in love, but did not ever expect my sister to bring her home as a gift. In honor of the Chihuahua’s Mexican heritage, my mother believed that we should name said puppy something Spanish. My brother and I insisted on naming her “Pork chop”, after the dog from Doug. We compromised with Chuleta, which is Spanish for pork chop.
I was only fourteen when my mother passed away in 2003. In a way, Chuleta was bequeathed to me. My brother and father were far too masculine to take responsibility for her (despite how much they love/d her) and I was more than happy to take on the task. She has been my sidekick and best friend, ever since.
But she is losing weight, rather quickly, and her eyesight, along with hearing is mostly gone. More recently, I have noticed her urine becoming clear and her last vet visit revealed high liver enzyme levels. After having an x-ray done, it was inconclusive as to whether or not she had developed a growth (tumor) on her liver, but there were small, sporadic dots. This could be cancer. I have a vet visit scheduled for her, next week. The doctor intends to run a urinalysis to see if we can determine anything more finite.
My intention for this blog is to document my vain attempt at making Chuleta as happy as possible before she crosses the Rainbow Bridge. Regardless of the vet’s diagnosis, I have to come to terms with the fact that she is elderly and most likely doesn’t have an enormous amount of time left. It is my goal to make sure that she experiences as much as possible, whenever possible. For all the joy and comfort she has brought to me, she deserves all that I can offer her and more. I hope that when her time comes, she knows that she was loved beyond words.