I am being lifted onto a cold table in a plain white room, Sherlock watches over me holding back tears as a stranger in a white coat stands before us. She pokes and prods me and puts me into a machine that scans my whole body. Finally the agony is over and I am lifted carefully off the table. The vet turns to Sherlock and says. "He has a brain tumor we can try and surgically remove it but it will be dangerous. The tumor is very agressive if we don't remove it he will only have a month to live. However if the surgery is successful it will give him another year. Sherlock nods solemnly and he takes me back home. That night Sherlock's parents have a hushed conversation behind closed doors I can't hear much but it seems they are arguing about what to do with me. Sherlock insists on the surgery but his parents refuse saying it is too expensive and won't elongate my life by much. I listen outside the door helplessy as my fate it decided. The next morning Sherlock drives me back to the vet. As I lay in the backseat of the car he whispers to me, "Redebard they agreed to pay for your surgery don't worry buddy it is all going to be alright." I wag my tail in thanks but, know he is comforting himself more then me. This time I am lifted into a different room and given some sort of medicine that puts me to sleep. Just as grogginess takes over my body I hear Sherlock say "stay strong Redbeard." I open a single eye and regard my surroundings I am in the same room but I can't see Sherlock. Then I feel the pain it is an strange pain it is not sharp it is numb and fuzzy as if something is trying to prevent me from feeling it. Yet I know the pain is still there. I try to lift my head and discover in wonder that I can move. My head feels fuzzy and my tounge may be dry and papery but all my woes are forgotten when I see Sherlock's face. He beams from the corner watching me with bright eyes, the dullness brought on by his pain in losing John forgotten. I get up slowly and wag my tail with joy showing him how much of a gift he has given me. He runs to me and wraps his arms around my chest embracing me. He laughs with pure elation and I am glad to feel him smile againt my fur instead of cry into it. The vet insists I must spend another day there to recover. I spend the night thinking about Sherlock and the next day the most wonderful thing happens. I get to go home with Sherlock. This time he no longer had to carry me to the car. Unfortunately the pain has worsened and it is no longer fuzzy and dull. However I hardly notice when Sherlock rolls down the window and I get to feel the wind blow against my face. I always secretly resented life as a dog wanting so desperatly to be human. Now I realize just how lucky I am to be here to experience all the wonders of the world.
