I had no idea it could be so gentle or so beautiful. Part of me wishes it hadn't been - it's like she fell asleep in my lap, she was still warm a good ten minutes later when we left, it wasn't like a death at all - but I know it's what was best for her.

Gracie had contracted a common form of osteocarcinoma, frequent in giant-breed dogs and highly aggressive. The cancer had bloomed inside the marrow of her radius, and flowered outward, forcing her body to deposit calcium supports around the bulging bone. We could have removed the tumor, but due to the very nature of the cancer the chances of survival without chemotherapy are slim - she was betrayed by the very veins that ran in her bones, carrying the rogue cells to the rest of her body from the moment of the cancer's birth. Although the tumor was still young, just having left it for a week had sealed her fate - without extensive and painful chemotherapy, the aggressive tumors would be bulging into her lungs, stomach, and brain.

Had I known about the commonness of her ailment, and the symptoms, I would have demanded the rush to the vet from the very first sign of a chronic limp. My diagnosis had saved her in the past, but this time my ignorance is what aided her demise... but I have learned. I adored Gracie, and though it will take time to heal the emptiness of her absence, I will come to love and call another dog my own. I won't let the chance of this ravager's strike drive me away in fear. I plan to use my newfound knowledge. Hopefully, someday, Gracie's death will prove to be what saves the life of another.