Zoe

CS Lewis says, in Perelandra, that sin not only choosing the bad over the good, but clinging to the lesser good that we have rather than accepting the greater good that God wants to give us.

Since Thanksgiving, Zoe has been lethargic. She's spent most of her time on the couch; her walks have been only to the nearest patch of grass, and she's resisted going any farther. I took her to the beach, and she went maybe 30 yards across the sand and turned back; that was clear sign of trouble, as usually she prances right down to the water. In the last week, she's had trouble climbing up on the couches, or going up and down the stairs, and she lost her balance and fell at least twice. And the cancer was spreading quickly.

We, reluctantly, released the lesser good that we had. I fed Zoe mini-sausages, and dipped my finger into eggnog and put it to her mouth, and she lapped it up eagerly. And then we carried her to the vet, and told them what had to be done. Zoe wasn't nervous at all. The vet put the IV lead into Zoe's leg, and brought her back in to us, and told us we could take as much time as we needed; I said "Two years, please...". We petted her and told her we love her and she is a good girl. I tried to tell her what I'd thought about six weeks ago--"when you wake up you'll be in a sunny meadow, with wildflowers you can bound through, and open lawns where you can run, and streams you can splash in, and other happy dogs you can play with. And not very long from now, we'll come to you and play Peek a Woof with you" --but I choked up and couldn't finish. I kissed her nose and her forehead, and we held her as the vet gave her the sedative, and the second syringe, and she splashed through the waters to the green fields beyond.

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