LIVING

Volumes have been written about living each day to it's fullest because it might be your last but come on, now-- we never really expect that it will be: nor do we get up in the morning and, as we drink our coffee (or coke in my case) do we think "Gee maybe something will happen today to change my life."
And then it does.

As passionate as I am about my Basset boys, this boy with the big ears is my heart and soul. And so it was not nice when I noticed that he was limping, and I thought well maybe he has a soft tissue injury and it will resolve in a few days. But he continued. And I thought, maybe he twisted his foot and it will resolve itself.
But of course, it didn't.
And deep in my soul I felt a quiver, and then a shudder, and I thought: I KNOW why he is limping. He is ten. I have seen this a thousand times. But not MY dog, not my heart and soul, not my friend. He does NOT HAVE Osteosarcoma in that leg he does not he does not he does not.

But of course, he does.
One x-ray. I looked up on the screen and one x-ray. The bone ruffled and displaced, roughened, pieces moved.....a nice rad of Osteosarcoma. I looked at Doc and he looked at me. He said
"Do you want to take the leg off today or tomorrow?"

What? One of those beautiful long legs with the feathers that have never been cut? I thought: maybe putting him down now would be more humane. How do you explain to a dog that you are going to hurt him horribly to make him better---and probably only for a short time? A hole opened in my heart, my brain. Tomorrow--- I guess tomorrow. Let me talk to John.

And he said, is there no other way?

And there is not. Other than putting the dog down no, there is no other option. Well maybe there is at the University but I had already decided we were sticking close to home. There is the matter of being retired. The money.

The going back and forth in winter...everything I have always said one must do I did not do. I wept. My beautiful, faithful companion, who ever only asked to be with me, and now this. How unfair is that?

Well..to be honest, how fair is cancer, ever?

So he is not here tonight. He is someplace close geographically but a thousand miles away emotionally. He is drugged, he is, I hope, alseep and pain-free, and he is three-legged. There is an echo in my heart. He will come home but probably not for long. Osteosarcoma is one of the most unforgiving of cancers.

Remember this the next time your dog gets you up in the middle of night and you get up, angry and tired, and snarl at him. Remember this the next time you trip over her carrying your coffee and spill it and yell at the dog. Remember this the next time you vacuum and it is all dog hair and you think My God, is there no end to this?

Because there is. And it can come without warning, any day.