Dijon, my love

I don't know if I can write tonight.

 My joy, my precious beauty of fifteen years is sick once again.
The cancer has haunted poor Dijon for almost four years now, returning again in the form of tumors and vile stomach sickness. She goes through long periods of great energy and appetite though, so the idea of dismissing her has been unthinkable.

The doctor is quite amazed that she is still around and puzzled that the medicinal mushrooms I have been giving her do seem to indeed work...at least for awhile.

It is midnight now and Dijon's heart seems to be giving out. She has had a murmur for some time and treated accordingly, but, with her age and cancer, there is little to be done at this time, except keep her pain free and surrounded with all the love she can get.