I'll never be good at this

We lost our dog Bowie earlier this year. It was totally unexpected, and I wrote about the helpless feeling that comes along with death. If you've ever been robbed or had something stolen from you, it feels the same.

I took our dog Malcolm to the vet last week to get a bump on his rib cage checked out. It turns out that bump is a tumor, and after a quick x-ray, the vet discovered multiple others including one in each lung the size of a tennis ball.

He's still happy, and doesn't appear to be suffering at all, but we have a plan for when he starts to show more severe symptoms. That's a different feeling all together—having a plan. Its a different kind of guilt and sadness that comes with planning for a death.

Malcom and me in bed the morning after his vet visit

I was tore up the day I found out, but I've had some time to think and realized that this is probably the best-case scenario. We have some time to enjoy, and I plan to. I'll never get any better at dealing with this, but I also hope I never do.