Wednesday, February 23, 2011

TIME PASSES

It has been a little over 3 months since Cooper was diagnosed as having Osteosarcoma and that front leg came off.
All the tests came back positive.
There were barely visible little specks in his lungs.
I was told 3 month- 4 maybe.
The other day when I set up the grooming table to shear off Conley's whiskers, clean his pads and clip the twistie on his tail, Cooper, who hates tbe way I groom, fled. With no discernable effort he leaped over the 3 foot baby gate we put to up keep him from jumping on and off the very high DadBed.

Yesterday we went to the Gallery. He loves the Gallery. There are no short-legs in his face. He can stretch out anyplace and sleep. He can go from artist to artist and get loved up in horrible, soppy ways that he clearly adores. He is constantly being told what a pretty dog he is, what a good dog he is, how much we love him. He is on instant alert if a stranger comes in-maybe his only fault. Pat and Ann and Sylvia and Bob are his herd at the Gallery (and me) and we are to be watched and guarded. (I leash him when people come in, and keep him with me near the back.) He drags me, literally, down the street to the Gallery.

He still guards the house. He watches closely for the mailman, the brown truck, the white truck, kids walking too close to my Van parked on the street (anyplace on the block is too close). He bellows at the short-legs to STOP THAT PLAYING! He yells at them for looking in his direction DO NOT LOOK AT THE DIRECTOR!
He goes out in the worst weather and moseys about the yard accumulating ice in his thick, black coat. In another life he was something weatherproof.
Nevertheless he remains terrified of thunder, of my cooking (I might use the stove and the smoke alarm might go off) having me groom or cut his nails, and (we learned yesterday) sleet.(Too much like rain, which might have thunder with it.)

Nobody has told him he is dying. I certainly am not going to be the one. Talking to Doc the other day he listened patiently to all this and then said gently "You know he's going to crash one day." Yes. Yes, I know. Doc has never been one to make up stories to make you feel better. He is, above all else a dedicated realist. But here's the catch: he is also an optimist or he would not think he might help the animals. And he is also rooting for Cooper. Hoping he will be the exception to the rule. We shall see.

4 comments:

  1. I hope that day is a long, long way off...

    Synthia

    ReplyDelete
  2. You are as much of a realist as Doc is Bev, but you also know that as long as Cooper is barking at the boys, enjoying his days at the Gallery, and eating as well as Cooper eats that this time is a gift to be enjoyed. And I know you will enjoy it. Laura

    ReplyDelete
  3. lois, buster, miss sally who & lowla the fosterFebruary 23, 2011 at 6:35 PM

    mr cooper is loving life. doing what he enjoys. we talked about ...going to the gallery, feeling important, needed. that's all anyone, or dog can ask for & want.

    we will all crash land someday...be it from cancer, a bus, too much candy, etc...until then i want to live every moment like i never know when the last one is coming...& i too will yell at those who block my view of all things important.

    you go mr cooper, sir!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hope springs eternal. May you both have a joyful Spring, a peaceful Summer and go gently into the night when the time comes. May we all!

    Auntie Ginny and the Hounds of Whorelando

    ReplyDelete