Malika, 2010-2020

Yesterday evening, as I began to prepare dinner, I heard Steve call, “Jan,” kind of soft, kind of panicked. In that one short word, I knew something was wrong.

I hurried from the kitchen toward his voice in the hallway, where he held Malika. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“She can’t move her back legs.”

“What?” I thought, initially thinking, How can that be? “What do you mean she’s not moving her back legs?”

“She can’t move them. I just found her dragging herself across the room.” He put her down gently as she whined.

Our minds filled with all kinds of questions.

What could have happened? She was okay just an hour ago.

Did she fall from something? Break her back?

Did she have a stroke?

Did she jump from something and injure herself?

We only knew it was serious, so Steve called our vet. He said we…