As I sit here writing this my beloved (boomba) Jane is sleeping seemingly peacefully at my feet. My wife and I took her to the Emergency Vet yesterday with a temp of 107 upon arrival. She very likely should have been dead by then, but through cooling IV's and antibiotic and fever control medication she pulled through. Bloodwork shows that her white and red blood cell count is extremely low, almost non existent. Her platelet count is much the same. The doctors believe this all points towards cancer being present in her bone marrow. She was said by the doctors to be in much the same condition as an end-stage AIDS patient. Any little infection at this point could mean the end. I don't know if she's in pain, her respirations are increased, she eats but reluctantly. I don't know what to do. She's been a part of our lives not quite three years. She was a stray brought in to the vet hospital where my wife worked. She had lived as a stray, on her own for years in a city maintenence facility compound, getting fed workers' lunch leftovers occasionally, but essentially making her way on her own. She was said by those workers to have had several litters of puppies through the years, which is why they brought her in to the hospital, to have her spayed and spare any future generations from her difficult life. She was a rough old girl when my wife was asked to find a home for her by the workers that brought her in. Her coat was missing in several places, contact points from laying on hard ground in all likelihood. We later found out she also had heartworms. I took her to the local dog park, hoping to find some compassionate folks with room for an older dog, but what I found when got there was a dog that would not leave my side. She and I had a wonderful time that day, playing at the park a little, but mostly just sitting there in the grass and petting her. I brought her home and went to doing some studying at my desk, at which point she wedged herself up under my desk and laid there contently sleeping. Never once did she complain when I slid my icy cold toes under her belly to warm them. She's my sole source of comfort in leaving my wife at home every third night when I go to work. My wife refuses to be comfortable enough with a gun to keep one at the bedside when I'm not home to use it. I know with Jane here that anyone that comes in will have to deal with her first. I have no doubt whatsoever that this wonderful and gentle dog would lay down her life to protect my wife or I, and likely even our other dog. I know that the time is near, that the day will come when we will have to make the decision to attempt to give something back to her in return for everything that she's given us. I wish in my heart that there was some other option, something I could do to prolong our time together in a way that is fair to her. I cannot hold onto her for my own sake. I imagine her life before it became our life was one of struggle and pain but since it became our life ithas been one of pleasure and love. I cannot let this disease return her life to struggle and pain in spite of the sadness it brings me to do this for her. I love you with all that I am Jane. I can't wait to meet you at the bridge.