I rushed Lola to the animal emergency room a couple of nights ago, not sure what was wrong with her, but just certain that something was amiss. It was in her eyes. Just that look, not much different than the one your kid gives you when she has a high fever.

Turns out she had a freakishly high fever. And the doctor told me she felt a lump on her neck and that she probably had Lymphoma. As in cancer. And as soon as I could hear her again (as the wailing – mine – subsided), I nearly punched her. It was my gut reaction. My entire life, I did not have pets. And then, well into my 30s, when I finally am able to bring animal companionship into my life, I lost not one, not two but three beloved creatures in two years? I was ready to hurt someone.

They kept our Lola Bear overnight. Pumped her full of fluids, ran all kinds of tests, had all kinds of specialists look at her, and in the end? They don’t think it’s cancer. It’s some rare disease having to do with the lymph nodes, highly curable with long-term steroid treatment, blah blah blah.

She’s home. That’s all that matters. And she’s going to have a long and fun life with our family.

Just when it was beginning to feel like I couldn’t catch a break, I caught the best one of all!