Penelope: The Boxer, The Legend, The Treat-Scoring Champion

Dolly Defender on Duty! Don’t mess with the Queen’s plushie.

I’d like to think Penelope has a secret life as a prizefighter in some underground dog boxing ring — not because she’s aggressive, but because she’s stubborn, tenacious, and refuses to follow anyone else’s script. How else do you explain a dog who was given 1-3 months to live... 19 months ago?

Yep, Penelope has spent the last year and a half flipping the bird (or paw?) at metastatic melanoma. My vet’s grim face back then seemed to say, "Prepare yourself..." But Penelope heard that and said, "Nah, I think I’ll stick around to remind you who’s boss."

But now, things have changed. New tumors have started sprouting like mushrooms after a rainstorm, and while they’re not causing her much trouble yet, Penelope decided last weekend that she’d pull out her latest party trick — showing signs of degenerative myelopathy. Because why settle for one serious condition when you can add another one to the mix?

Barn Boss on Break: Supervising the chaos from her sunlit throne.

I have to admit, I wasn’t ready for this. I knew we were on borrowed time, but I figured Penelope would just keep strong-arming the odds like a stubborn old lady refusing to leave her Bingo table. Turns out, even the fiercest of fighters get tired sometimes.

So now, our new mission is clear:

1. Spoil her rotten.

2. Give her all the snacks she wants. (I may need to apologize to the vet later.)

3. Let her hog the best spot on the couch.

4. Take her on extra car rides so she can bark at pedestrians like she’s the neighborhood sheriff.

5. Cherish every single moment.

   
   
   
   

Napping like a pro — pillow fluffed, dreams loaded, snuggles engaged.

I’ve been calling her our "Boxer on Bonus Time." Every day she’s still here feels like getting an extra fry at the bottom of the bag — unexpected and wonderful. She’s made it clear that she’s not going out quietly — no, she’s going out as a legend, probably with a biscuit in her mouth and a smug look on her face.

The hardest part in all of this is waiting for her to let us know when she’s ready — when those extra treats aren’t enough, when car rides lose their charm, and when she’s too tired to claim her rightful spot on the couch. Until then, we’ll keep loving her fiercely, celebrating her victories, and making sure her final chapter is full of belly rubs, bacon, and bossy barks at passersby.

Because Penelope? She’s not just a dog. She’s a legend. And legends deserve to go out in style.

Bed? Claimed. Sunspot? Perfect. Life? Nailed it.