Ready or Not

Lucy came to the sanctuary with only days left in her life to spare. She, and her sister, Ethel, had been well-loved in their previous home, but when no one could take them in when they needed, their end-of-life fate seemed sealed. The sanctuary wasn't ready to take in hogs, especially ones as large as Lucy and Ethel. But we knew we could not say no.

From the moment Lucy came to the sanctuary, she made herself at home. She quickly became the belle of the ball, charming family and friends. Lucy understood language and spoke her own. She was an enthusiastic conversationalist and would tell you exactly how she felt. Anyone who stopped by would find themselves engaged in a conversation with Lucy, even if they didn't understand. Spending so much time with Lucy, we understood her words and just between us, she tended to be a bit bossy but always in a loving way.

Lucy had a special way with the sanctuary's other animals. She adored her goat siblings and was quite protective over them. But her greatest love was for her sister, Ethel. Lucy watched over Ethel like a mother hen, ensuring she was safe, happy, and had the best treats. The two were inseparable, often found lounging together in the sun, or engaging in simultaneous snoring.

As the weeks went on, we noticed that Lucy was losing weight. Sometimes she would refuse to eat. Two vets were called and outreach to UC Davis was made. The sanctuary was fortunate to find a vet specialist and after an examination, the news was heartbreaking. Lucy likely had a tumor - a large tumor. We were determined and committed to give Lucy a long life, so we immediately adjusted her diet as advised, cooking her special meals twice a day. Despite her suspected condition, Lucy remained her vibrant and beautiful self.

We monitored her closely, and knew the tumor continued to grow at a rapid pace. Lucy continued to lose weight, which made the tumor's growth more pronounced. We didn't have a move but to remove the tumor. She would die if left to grow.

Lucy had surgery on Wednesday morning. There was so much hope. The vet had performed this surgery many times and could count on a single hand the number of animals lost and this loss was often driven by obesity. Lucy was not overweight. A surgical unit and triage was set-up at the sanctuary and everyone, including the surgical team, was stunned when a 70 pound tumor was removed from Lucy's uterus. It was a miracle she had carried it this long and survived.

Immediately following the surgery, Lucy rested, was breathing well, and with her body lighter and the large mass removed, all were hopeful of years ahead and spoke about how life would be so much better now. There was copious amounts of optimism. After so many weeks of watching Lucy's decline and fearing her end, she now had a future. She had fought so hard, and it looked like she had won.

But then, just as life and death is prone to do, it all changed in an instant.

Ready or not.

Lucy began to bleed. At first, we thought it was normative post-surgery bleeding and would be manageable. But quickly, it became clear that something was very wrong. The bleeding would not stop. The vet and her team rushed Lucy back into surgery, working desperately to save her. But the tumor had taken everything from her. Her body, once so full of life, had nothing left to fight. Lucy couldn't fight, so the surgical team fought for her. They poured so much into Lucy, the entire surgical team was in tears when they knew they had lost our sweet girl.

The news hit us hard.

The entire sanctuary was just...overwhelming quiet. All of the animals seemed to understand.

Lucy's body was brought back into the home she and Ethel shared, to give Ethel the opportunity to say good-bye.

Lucy will never be forgotten.

As the sun set on Lucy's last day in this world, an unspoken promise was reaffirmed and sent to the stars. Lucy's love shaped us and in her honor, the sanctuary will continue to open its gates, and our hearts, to those who need it the most.

Ready or not.

Lucy girl, it has been my honor.