Copper finished his chemotherapy course in the spring. His final scan came back clear. Dr. Singh told Rachel that it didn’t guarantee anything — osteosarcoma had a high recurrence rate, and they would need to keep monitoring him. But right now, there was nothing to see. Rachel sat in Dr. Singh’s office and let herself breathe for the first time in months.
He was a three-legged dog now. It had taken him about six weeks to stop looking surprised by that fact. After that, he just got on with it. He had adapted in a way that was entirely matter-of-fact, with no drama, and Rachel had found that steadying. He was still Copper. He still sat on her foot when he wanted her attention. His walks were shorter, but he still pressed his nose into every interesting corner of every street they went down.
She watched Copper stop at the edge of the pond in the park and look out at the water. He was slower than he used to be. His muzzle was greyer. But he was standing in the afternoon sun with his tail moving and his ears lifted, interested in whatever was out there. She had fought for his time. It had cost her, but, watching him, she knew it had been worth every bit of her effort.