So that's it. It's over. She's dead. Gone. They killed my wolf.

The beginning-
How long is this crap going to go on for? Get it through your f***ing skull that she's frigging DYING! This is so f***ed up! I don't want her dead either but she's Freaking SICK!
"I'll take her in today." "I'll call tomorrow" "Just give her some time."
A week later she's still lying there puking her guts up.
Even a moron like Storm could tell that she needs help.
I never wanted her to suffer.

The drive -
I sat in the back of the car, her sitting on my lap and her head out the window like she was still a puppy. I had high hopes that she was just a little sick. Me and my freaking denial. The radio played its merry way like it had no care in the world. I wanted to turn it off. Grandma didn't apparently.
"You do know that she's probably not coming back right, Autumn?" Grandma said quietly.
"I know." I said in that absent monotone I use to block my emotions.
Timberz whimpered. She knew what we were talking about.

The inspection-
They put her on a big metal plate and weighed her; '58.6 pounds' it read.
She lost over 12 pounds in less then 2 months. I walked her into the room, watching as she sniffed every single thing her nose could reach. The doctor and her assistant came in,
"We're going to do some blood work. From the symptoms you gave us she probably has cancer. We just want to make sure. At her age; it's either that or kidney disease."
That was enough to make grandma want her dead.
"My husband isn't going to pay much medical-wise..."

The end-
They give her a sedative so it won't hurt as bad. She's lost most of her muscle-mass. I lie on the floor with her on a doggie blanket they gave us so she wouldn't have to lay on the tile. I lay her head in my lap and stroke her. She has o little fur that sticks up above all the others. I smile at the memory of when we shaved her head.
"You silly mutt you..." I whisper and hug her tightly.
They inject her with the killing liquid and I choke back a sob.
'I won't cry.' I tell myself.
I stroke her fur again and again, holding back tears all the while.
They check her pulse.

"She's gone"

I sat there for awhile petting her still. The glazed look in her eyes is what really got to me. She was still there seconds before. How could someone with so much life just seconds ago be gone?
"Are you ready to go? The longer you stay the harder it is." Grandma choked out.
"How so. I'm saying goodbye." I muttered, my hair covering my eyes so she couldn't see
how red they were from the suppressed tears.
I took one last look at the one person who truly understood me,
"Goodbye, Timber. I love you."

After words-

The biopsy results came in.
She had a massive, cancerous, 4 pound, tumor in her stomach.
And smaller ones in the surrounding area.
Her whole inside was a patchwork quilt of damage and tissue trying to save itself.
They say it was the right choice.
There was no possible way of saving her.