Miss Bailey was a beautiful black lab.
Miss Bailey’s family was being evicted from their home, and they could not take Miss Bailey with them.
Our family learned of Miss Bailey’s misfortune through my wife’s brother. We arranged to meet Miss Bailey, to see if she would get along with our kids and our cat. Miss Bailey was an absolute sweetheart, so we adopted her on July 31, 2020.
Although I was always more of a “cat person,” Miss Bailey took a liking to me quickly, and became my constant companion. Everywhere I went, Miss Bailey wanted to be with me.
She loved to be by my side. Snuggled up with me, or even just laying by my feet.
On Zoom calls for work, she would lay down next to me for a little nap.
When I would go outside to mow the lawn, trim trees and brush, rake leaves, or shovel snow, she just had to join me.
Miss Bailey loved snow. She loved jumping through the drifts. She loved eating huge mouthfuls of freshly fallen snow.
When trimming and prepping cuts of meat for grilling and smoking, Miss Bailey was right by my side. She loved getting little nibbles of trimmings.
When grilling or smoking barbecue in the back yard, Miss Bailey was sure to be there with me. She would get little nibbles of the food I was cooking.
Miss Bailey had such a beautiful and kind soul. Our cats would lay down and nap alongside her. Miss Raven, our tortoiseshell kitty, would rub against Miss Bailey, purring, licking Miss Bailey’s face.
Every morning, when I would get up and have a cup of coffee, Miss Bailey would ask to go outside. When we would come back in the house, she would sit and wait patiently for me to give her a dog biscuit. She loved getting a dog biscuit every morning.
In August 2024, I took Miss Bailey to the vet for a routine check up and shots. At my wife’s request, I mentioned that Miss Bailey had a slightly swollen spot on her right front leg, and that it seemed to be a little bit sore.
The vet took some X-rays, and told me that Miss Bailey had an aggressive form of bone cancer, and that it had already spread to her lungs.
The vet said that if it hadn’t spread to the lungs, they could amputate the leg, but the best they could do now was prescribe some anti-swelling, pain relief meds. The vet speculated that Miss Bailey may have about four months to live.
I cried.
I began giving Miss Bailey meds twice daily, to try and make her life a little less painful.
In the following months, that small swollen spot on Miss Bailey’s leg grew into a large tumor. Little by little, Miss Bailey’s breathing grew more difficult. Day by day, it became harder for her to walk.
Miss Bailey would have bad days, where it seemed like the end of the road. Then she would rally the next day, and seem to be her old happy self again.
Miss Bailey made it to winter. She got to see the snow she loved so much again. She made it to Christmas, and had a treasure trove of treats from Santa. She made it to the new year, and then she started hurting so much, we couldn’t ignore it any longer. We made an appointment with the vet for today.
Miss Bailey, my beautiful lumpy space princess, passed on, today, January 13, 2025.
I cried. I’m still crying.