This gorgeous boy is my JB. He is the sweetheart-part-of-my-heart that we took with us when we left for Pennsylvania from Florida. He became my third of three in September, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I cannot believe I love him this much, but I do.
In November, Jeff and I thought that maybe JB’s snoring, noises, etc. were in need of a look-see from a Vet. We brought him in. He was seen for different ailments. All was looking…eh, ok. Until this past Monday, when I could feel my heart…break. The Vet said his nose was still not right, was pink. A tumor was suspected, and it was said he had lymphoma. I stood there with him, questioning things in my mind. Not understanding anything. I swear I could feel my chest hurt and my heart break. How I was able to be coherent, I don’t know. How was I able to ask…time? How much did he have left? In reality, how much time did I have with him? The Vet said he had a few months, to a year maybe. What? How did this happen? He was our baby, our youngster… Monday afternoon into that night, I literally was a zombie. I tried hard not to cry, but I couldn’t…my tears would not allow me. I shook and shivered as I ate dinner. Why in the world was this happening to us, to him? I cried, I sobbed…I begged God to change places with him. I didn’t and still don’t want him to go alone.
Since his diagnosis, I have read. A LOT of information. I am positive (if perhaps I am reaching) that he has more time than he has been initially given. He is just SO healthy, and strong. This boy is my heart, in my heart…and no matter what happens for us, I will love him for always.
I rescued him from the streets, yet…he did more for me than he could have ever thought. If I live to be 100 years old, JB will be my boy, in only a way that he can…it’s a Mom and J-ster kind of thing…