I'm sorry to share that Penny didn't survive her surgery today.
The mass was bigger than the vets thought, and she was unable to be resuscitated.
She was about a year and a half old; when she was around eight weeks I got to spend a couple of hours with her. She played at the park - putting everything in her mouth that she could! - and I held her on the car ride home afterwards. She slept, so warm and sweet and peaceful.
It never crossed my mind that this precious life I was holding
wouldn't survive long into her barely-adulthood.
To all things there is a purpose, and a season; and one of the hardest things in life is accepting that.
To the vets responsible for her today, I have one question for you:
Will you sleep well tonight?