Her Winter...

We first got wind of her problems on our visit to Austin in November, thinking only by suddenly not eating that she missed us, which I'm sure she did. She collapsed in front of her sitter. In a few days, she was back to her old rambunctious Labrador self. She later collapsed in front of us when we returned to New York. An early morning visit to the emergency room and MRI revealed a mass on her spleen. For Labradors and Golden Retrievers, as had happened before 11 years ago, this is sadly common. The mass for 2/3 of the cases is usually malignant. It draws blood from her circulatory system into her abdomen as happened to both of my Golden's years ago, clearly evident on the MRI. She gets tired easily on stairs she used to bound up and down; three handfuls of dog food now reduced to one that takes an entire day to devour. Surgery, radiation and chemo therapy may buy her 3 - 6 months, and is expensive. As both sons made their way here, I've been too preoccupied to blog anything about physics.

We saw her slip away slowly and finally in her vet's office at PetSmart Banfield Hospital under injected euthanasia. We all cried as she slipped into eternal slumber, her last acts in life to wag her tail, perk her ears; interact and kiss the tears of her young men - my sons - away. As intelligent as she was, this was the only thing she has ever failed at.

I will remember the floppy ears of a puppy that on a dead run stumbled over herself. I will remember how a hiss from our cat, Felix would send her darting away, despite at adulthood outweighing her by 60 lbs. I will remember the whole eaten pizza, the three devoured  Monte Cristo sandwiches and the apple pie! It was all hilarious, well before phone video and You Tube. It is now a part of memories of her.

I will remember tough days at work - be it engineering, teaching martial arts or high school physics - no matter what day I'd had, her resolution was enthusiasm, unconditional love and "let's play" with boundless energy, now sapped by a mass acting as an internal vampire.

I will remember her on my move from Texas to New York as my only friend for a while in a new place. She seemed only to greet me with opened maw - can't call it a smile - panting tongue and her famous "whipping tale of death" that hurt if she hit you with it inadvertently. Now, death has claimed her.

Her atoms, mine and my families originated in the same crucible that birthed the star we now call our single sun. Her ashes will make their way back to that celestial birthplace, passing perhaps Sirius, the Dog Star.

And when Entropy claims me one day, hopefully my atoms will find that place, and we Raven, will play!

March 11, 2004 - December 24, 2014, a little before the Spring equinox and a little after the Winter solstice. Rest in peace, girl.

Blogging will begin again 1 January 2015. See you next year.

Love,

The Goodwin Family: Cassandra, Robbin, Jonathan and Reggie (dad)