Ruby Tuesday, R.I.P.

Feb. 11, 1998 – Feb. 8, 1008

Gina and I had to put our 10-year-old Golden Retriever, Ruby, to sleep tonight. She had had a baseball-sized tumor that she had carried with her on her right side the past couple of years, and it ruptured this past Monday, which not only meant that a very expensive surgery would have been required to remove it (in the neighborhood of $600), but that she, due to her age, plus having advanced infection from the growth (detected in a blood test), and also possible kidney problems, would also be in danger of never waking up from the anesthesia. There was also the added concern that a ruptured tumor indicated advancing cancer, and that even after it was removed, the cancer would continue to spread and her quality of life would have gone downhill rapidly and she may have only lasted another few months with us, anyway. So in considering all of the above, we felt it was just best to have her euthanized. At least our last memories of her were of her standing there looking at us lovingly and happily wagging her tail, as she always did.

She was the happiest, sweetest, and most playful dog I’ve ever owned, and she was my best buddy, always right there by my side no matter what it was I was doing. We will miss her dearly.