Less than a week later, on June 7, I put Quin on an airplane to go see his dad in Utah, and on the way home from the airport I stopped at the vet because Bronco had this lingering cough that seemed to be getting worse. At the vet, I found out that our sweet doggie had cancer. It had metastasized from somewhere in his body and was now in his lungs, which was causing the coughing. I had to call my poor husband and tell him, as he was preparing to go visit his ill father, that not only would we lose his dad--but that we would also lose his beloved Bronco-doggie. That was terrible.
Quin was gone for a week. I didn't tell the kids about the dog because I wanted to wait until The Mister got home. The first night I found out about Bronco, I laid on the floor next to him and sobbed and begged him to last until Quin came home, so that he could say good-bye.
After a very emotionally difficult week for both us us, Quin came home last Friday night, the 14th. Bronco had been doing sorta okay the week previous, but on Saturday he quit eating and we knew that meant that he didn't have long. Each day he got worse and worse--I am still surprised at how quickly he turned. I truly believe that Bronco did what I asked--he waited until Quin came home, but that was all he had left.
|Partners in crime|
|Meeting a newborn Maren|
And yet, the heartbreak is not over for us. Sometime before too long, we will have to say good-bye to Quin's father. We're headed to Utah this weekend because we need to spend time with him while we can. We have many difficult times ahead of us, not the least of which will be telling our kids about their Papa.
My one consolation in all of this: Bronco and Quin's dad loved each other.