The Mil is dead, long live The Mil
She wasn't well last night. The first inkling I had was a refusal of dinner. She had been OK during the afternoon. But last night she just wanted to lie down and pant. Mmmmm. Not good.
So she was taken to the vet first thing this morning.
He immediately diagnosed a stomach tumor that had exploded and was bleeding internally. He thought that she also had tumors in her spleen and liver.
I had no warning. I didn't know how ill she was. She was gruff, feisty, loving and slightly enigmatic to the end. She was probably in pain, but she was good at hiding her illness.
She was a good, tolerant dog. In 2006, following the birth of my son I did wonder how she would cope. But although she steadfastly ignored him for the first three months or so, she ended up interacting on a daily basis with good temper. As Mr S became more mobile she tolerated him, and in the end I think quite liked him. She allowed him to pat her, cuddle her and even pull her ears. She would even lie down for him. Pretty good for a 14 year old dog who didn't grow up with children.
The first three photos below were taken last April, just after she recovered from a mysterious illness.
Here she is having a cuddle in January 2006.
And at the beach January 2006.
And on 27 May 2008 with Mr S.
Love you Mil.