Bronte’s world began twelve years ago. Our world together began when she was six months. Bronte is a pitbull and I am her mistress. Our life together has had its joys and challenges. Now we have one more journey to share together. Bronte has oral cancer and a few months.
All her life, Bronte has always chosen the higher road, the harder choice, the road lesser traveled. In her death, it seems it will be no different, as she will be leaving it up to me, asking me to support her last choice. When I was first told of her prognosis, such was my reaction, “Of course, she’d make me do it. She never makes anything easy.” All of her ’emergency room’ adventures rushed through my memory as I said it. Even though Bronte makes these tough choices, she has always supported them with a stoic face, no hint of a wince.
For most of our journey together, I may have thought I was the leader of our pack, but now I’m learning that this last part has her in charge. I am indeed her mistress. I am indeed her servant to do her beckon call, to carry out her wish. Everyday I wonder how.