God Bless Sam

Sampson has been a total rock for us for the last week. He has made us laugh, reminded us that life goes on, and tolerated our extra attention. I found something the other day, by accident, that referred to March 10, 1995 as the day that I brought Sampson home from the Finger Lakes Humane Society shelter in Bath, NY. He was four months old at that time, which means that he celebrated his 15th birthday in November. I had misjudged his birthday many years ago and had just given him my birthday (January 1st) to share with me.

So, the old guy actually attempted to play in the snow with me the other day. Seriously. He did a little spin and got into his play bow (as much as he could) and then tried to jump up and spin around and ended up sitting in the snow when his back legs didn't follow instructions. The sparkle in his eye said he could do it, but the body couldn't quite follow through. He didn't care a bit though and just stood up and climbed back up on the deck. He's a great role model, Mike and I have decided. He slips occasionally and sometimes loses his footing and abruptly sits down or trips, but he doesn't let it get him down. His tail is always wagging and he's started to let us help him sometimes - and of course, he still loves to eat.

Sam told me the other day that getting us through the loss of Abby was his last "big job" that he had to do. That doesn't necessarily mean he's leaving immediately, but that was his last "assignment" as far as he knows right now. It's the second time he's helped me through this - he pretty much saved my life after Sara died (of kidney failure at 5 years old). He just accepts it and goes on - what a teacher he is.

Enjoy his picture - it's from a couple of years ago, but it's one of my favorites and he pretty much looks the same. A few more gray hairs, but still stunningly handsome - don't you think? Handsome outside, beautiful inside - God bless Sam...

Thank You (from 12/18)

It sounds so inadequate to say, "Thank you.", but that's all I can come up with right now. We are quite humbled by the outpouring of care and love from all of you.

The two-leggeds are going through the motions of somewhat normal life today, but the four-leggeds are doing just fine. They are taking turns being extra solicitous and making us laugh. Yes, laugh. How can you not laugh when there is a chubby black cat lying on your chest with her nose about a hair's breadth from your nose, purring at 150 decibels? How can you not laugh when another black cat has a soaking wet right front leg (up to his shoulder) - from "fishing" in the rice cooker that is soaking in the sink? How can you not laugh when a 15 year old dog destroys his dinner and then starts shoving his head between your knees and then sitting down attentively in front of you - repeatedly - (with frustrated snorts) in order to "earn" a carrot from the fridge? How can you not laugh?

So, we cry, we laugh, we cry, we laugh, etc. I would like to give you a link to a wonderful tribute written about Abby by someone that I have never met (in person) who also never met Abby. Her name is Kerry and here is the link: http://fightcaninecancer.wordpress.com/2009/12/18/a-tribute-to-abby/ She has been a great resource to us and also has become a friend (whom I someday hope to meet).

I think we are going to assemble a photo album of Abby's activities over the years, so when we do, we'll send out the link - in the meantime, we'll post some things to the blog, so please keep in touch...

All the best to everyone and the Happiest of Holidays to you and yours...

The Dance

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3674595221543443747#

This song has always made me think of my first dog of my own - Sara. Now, I'll think of Abby, too, when I hear it...

The Little Yellow Dog...

...will have to live in spirit and in our hearts from now on. Her body was too tired to continue any longer. She will be dearly missed.

We are not Living Like Abby. We are a mess. Our hearts are broken and we're exhausted. I am reliving every decision I made during her 10 1/2 years with us - from diet to spending time with her to chemo to diagnostics to potential carcinogenic contaminants in our drinking water. I'm blaming myself and I want to go back and fix whatever it is that I did wrong to cause her to not get better. It seems that it must be my fault somehow.

Sam and the cats think we're crazy and are acting totally normally. Sam is being a bit more affectionate - I think he's essentially patting us on the head and rolling his eyes. They just know that this is part of life - why can't we "just know" that?

On the drive home, at one point I said,"Abby didn't belong to us, she was a being who chose to be with us, and she had to leave." That seemed to be something that Abby might want us to know - maybe she was the one saying it...

Please find a way to Live Like Abby tomorrow - in her honor and because it's fun to Live Like Abby. All the best to everyone...

Just One More...

...trip to New York. Just one more summer. Just one more run in the woods. Just one more happy car ride. Just one more night. Just one more jump in the air. Just one more adventure. Just one more minute. Just one more...

We always want just one more...something. It's not possible to want "just one more" and ever be happy. I'm trying to sit with what is and what we have and stop looking for "just one more" - but it's hard to do.

Abby's time is short - but it was really good time for a really long time. And that will be enough.

The Weekend

As of Thursday afternoon, we didn't expect to have Abby with us for much longer. She had vomited her supplements and, I think, voluntarily. She went to the water bowl immediately after I gave her the pills and drank a ton of water - and then threw up. Sure looked intentional to me. So when afternoon rolled around and it was time for more pills I told her, "Okay. If you throw these up - I won't try again. That will be it. I'll know." And I fully expected her to throw them up. I had already called Dr. Clemens' office (our regular vet) to give him a heads-up that we didn't think she had very long and we might need to bring her in. But she didn't throw up the pills. And she has not thrown up since Thursday morning. And she's still alive.

On Friday night, I got a half a wag when I got home (not a full wag, but still). On Saturday, she chased a squirrel (not far, nor very fast, but still). On Saturday and Sunday, she ate a few spoonfuls of chicken baby food and cottage cheese (not much, but still). On Monday, she ate dog food at the holistic vet's office (only a handful, but still). Also, on Monday, she barked and "scrambled up" from lying on the dining room floor and "hurried" to join the barking Sam at the sliding door to see what was going on and who was invading (not too quickly, but still). Today, she has eaten about a 1/3-1/2 cup of chicken, broccoli, and kibble; did another "bark and hurry" to the back door; did almost a full two wags for me when she met me in the kitchen upon my arrival home; and was looking out the sliding door for Mike and I when we arrived home tonight (still sleeps most of the time, but still).

So, we are currently learning to not attach to any of these things. She ate today and that's great. She might not eat tomorrow - or ever again - and that's okay too. We are continuing to let her go, over and over again. Each wag is a treat, happy eyes and ears are especially special, her fur is wonderfully soft and she smells lovely (really, she does). We are not expecting anything, except that she will continue to be Abby. Each time I hear her breathe, it's music, because we don't know how long we'll hear that music. But then again, we never know how long anyone has. How can we all "live like we were dying" to quote a country song? I'd like to take this presentness and awareness into many more days of my life and that's my intent. Perhaps this is a lesson that Sam started teaching us two years ago and Abby is continuing to teach us. I wrote a poem recently about my learning from Sam two years ago -

Letting Go
Does Not Mean
Loving Less
It Means
Living More

In honor of Sam and Abby, live a little more tomorrow, with our best wishes.

One Day at a Time

The ultrasound done on Wednesday showed that the Abby's lymph nodes were still large, the digestive system was still involved and it appeared that the spleen and liver might be infiltrated as well. So, the chemo has not been working. No more chemo... Abby came home from the hospital on Wednesday night via a holistic vet visit and the airport to pick up Mike. She was exhausted and so were we. Wednesday night was rough - some vomiting and she was pretty uncomfortable. We started our holistic therapies Wednesday night, but since she was throwing up, we don't know how much she got.

We know that it is most likely that we have hours and days left with Abby instead of weeks, months, and years - but we're all coming to terms with that. Abby included. We've realized that she has devoted herself to taking care of us and that may be why she's so sick. She just can't do it anymore, but she just keeps trying despite the fact that we keep requesting that she "just take care of herself". It's hard to change old habits. As exhausted as she was yesterday, she would still follow us around the house - up and down the stairs, from room to room, and even climbing on the bed. She is really enjoying being close to us much of the time and she is being quite snuggly much of the time. That's complete joy for us. We are affirming to her that she can "retire" from taking care of us - if that means staying a little longer or leaving - either way is fine. She is officially retired.

We have been carrying her around some, though she can definitely manage getting around pretty well. She is not in pain, though she is likely in some slight discomfort. Abby has been sleeping a lot and dreaming, including one dream in which she was barking A LOT - must have been a squirrel. She has started to drink water again and has not vomited since Thursday morning. She does not want to eat, so that is obviously not good. Our holistic treatments are the last go round. If she feels better, great. If not, we know where we are. We'll know in the next days, I'm pretty sure. Maybe sooner. So far, she's not given us "the sign". In fact, she met me in the dining room tonight when I came home and I almost got a tail wag - I definitely got perky ears and happy eyes.

We would like to ask that that everyone hold positive images of Abby as you've known her - especially those of you who have seen her running and playing at full tilt. Please check out the blog www.livinglikeabby.blogspot.com for pictures if you haven't had the pleasure of meeting Abby "in dog". We have decided to focus on these postive images in order to surround her with our love and laughter for as long as she is here.

That's Living Like Abby...

Minor Epiphany

Is there such a thing as a minor epiphany? Anyway, driving home from the vet, I had one. As we drove further from Abby it almost seemed that I was gaining some perspective and I realized that Abby and Sam are very different dogs. Seems obvious, but it was pretty meaningful. If I started a blog called Living Like Sam, it would be very different than this one. So, it was a reminder that Abby's individuality and personality are important factors in this whole experiment. I'm going to factor this into my "letting go" exercises and see where it takes me, I guess.

That's all...

Today

Abby was admitted to the hospital this afternoon so that they can stabilize her digestive tract. Her WBC was low, X-ray did not show any obvious blockage. They're going to give her fluids, antibiotics, anti-emetics for vomiting, some anti-inflammatories, etc. by IV and re-Xray tonight and tomorrow morning to see if things are moving. I'll get a call in the am. Good news is that the Internal Medicine doctor is taking her over while she's hospitalized b/c we are parting ways with our oncologist. The IM doctor is the one who was really AWESOME when Sam was in the hospital in Feb. 2007. The oncologist has not been handling my questions appropriately and it seems that he is not comfortable with me asking questions - he was fine in the beginning but whenever there is a little complication or divergence from the "normal" he seems to get stressed. He was very agitated today and closed the door to the consulting room and was actually almost yelling at me. That's not going to fly. He was feeling that I was questioning him and his radiologist - I was asking questions, yes, but that's my job. I tried to explain, but he was no longer rational. What kind of a doctor raises his voice to a client who hasn't slept in two nights, whose dog is in distress and has a second type of cancer in three months and then blames the client! So, he decided that he would prefer to refer me to another oncologist - funny, I had already called another clinic with an oncologist on staff this morning! Looks like we agree on one thing at least!

The irony here is that just last night or this morning (I can't remember) I was talking to my angels and I was asking for guidance. I said, "I guess that I'm not listening well enough, b/c I don't know what to do. Can you be more clear?".

Boy, did they ever clarify that situation! So anyway, that's where we are after a marathon 3 hour vet visit. We need to get through the next couple of days before we consider any more chemo. If we decide that the digestion issues are chemo related (they could be unrelated or cancer related) - I don't know if we'll do any more treatments. It's been crippling all of us these last few days. If we don't do chemo - we'll see what other alternative options exist for us.

All spare good wishes and thoughts, prayers, Reiki energy, bells and whistles are welcome.

What a day... I'm going to bed...

Look, Ma! No Hands!

Isn't that the traditional roller coaster saying? Well, that's what we're on. I haven't been motivated to write lately - not sure why. So here's the update... We had a lot of fun with Abby being Abby again for about nine days or so, but Saturday night she started to have some diarrhea and cramping. The short, less yucky version is that she woke us up a lot on Saturday night (3 times before 1am) but then slept until 7:45am. She still wasn't well on Sunday, so I took her temperature and we ended up visiting the Emergency Clinic with a 103ish temperature on Sunday night. The emergency doctor was pretty unconcerned and while we were there, she barked continuously in the back (where they do the exams) and then they took her temperature and it was down to 102. Then they took it again and it was down to 101.4. Okay, so we go home with some anti-emetics (she had vomited once) and anti-diarrhetics (sp?) and feel a bit better. We still got up all night long because she was still in gastric distress and I was a tad paranoid about her temperature. Her temperature peaked at 103.8 at 4am and then started to come down during the day a little. It got down to 102.9 this afternoon, but was up a little more last time I took it.

If this sounds a little bit obsessive - it is.

Our oncologist told me today, "This is not why we're doing this. If you're all going to be miserable and not sleep, it's going to be a long 25 weeks." That's an understatement. So, we've got to temper our "parenting" with the knowledge that cancer, chemotherapy, dietary indiscretions, and Abby's sensitive stomach are going to cause things like temperatures, gastric upset, and not-so-Abby like behavior sometimes. So far, Abby is still in the game - she chased a squirrel across the yard today at a full run and I think that she intentionally decreased her temperature while at the vet's office last night, so that we would take her home instead of leaving her in the hospital overnight. So I'm running Reiki on her and tapping (EFT, for those of you who haven't heard of it)...

She'll tell us when she's done. It doesn't appear to be that time, yet... Wheeee!!!! No hands!!!

Setforward

Some people have very kindly e-mailed and sent us good strong wishes during our "setback". So I started thinking about that... It doesn't feel like we've had a setback because Abby is feeling SO much better. Maybe it's a "setforward", instead...

Setforward
Definition: An occurence that could be viewed as a delay in achieving a goal or as a reversal of progress, which when viewed otherwise actually contributes to forward movement in the desired direction.

Go ahead, look it up...

A Kick in the Teeth...and a Side of Gratitude

On Wednesday, Abby went to the vet because she was still not eating, vomiting what she did eat and not seeming better on the antibiotics.

The good news is that we now know why Abby hasn't been eating. The bad news is that it's because she has a second, different type of lymphoma. The good news is that this is the "garden variety" lymphoma that has very high remission rates. The bad news is that the chemotherapy protocol is 25 weeks of chemotherapy. The good news is that Abby had her first dose of the new chemotherapy on Wednesday and was starting to feel better by that evening. More good news is that she is acting pretty much like her old self since yesterday. She wants to eat, wants to be more active, is stealing cat food again, just generally living more Abby-like.

So, that's where we are. It does not seem that the Aloha Medicinals supplements have been helping - since she developed this lymphoma while on them, so it is likely that we will discontinue them. A nationally known holistic vet whose office I spoke with today recommends using immune boosting supplements following chemotherapy since a strong immune system during chemotherapy can reduce its effectiveness (i.e., the body protects all the cells from the chemotherapy - even the "bad" cells). Sounds reasonable, but so do lots of things... Anyway, his office says that he recommends chemotherapy for canine lymphoma and there might be other things to try after the chemo or if we decide to discontinue the chemo, but at this point, he would have us take the path that we are on. That was good to hear.

I'm grateful to know why Abby wasn't eating since it was ripping us up. I'm grateful that we have a path that we can follow for some distance at least. I'm grateful that Abby is already feeling MUCH better. And I'm grateful that I know Abby will tell us what to do next. I'm really grateful to know Abby.

Frustration

Abby just threw up what she ate today - which wasn't much, but at least it was something. That means she didn't get her supplements or (probably) her antibiotic. It also means that we will probably be going back to the vet tomorrow. It's looking like we need to x-ray and/or ultrasound to see exactly what's going on inside. In the meantime, I feel terrible for her. She seems very tired. Okay, but tired. She did play with me some today and was relatively perky - trotting outside and following me up and down stairs, but she's definitely not right.

I just want to help her. Help her to be comfortable and happy for as long as she chooses to be with us - and it will be her choice. It might be a day or it might be ten years. Living like Abby isn't much fun today. We'll see how tomorrow is...

No Sleep

Thursday and Friday nights were not fun. Abby awakened us three times on Thursday night and four times on Friday night. We would take her out and she would "do some business", but not hurriedly and not as if her stomach was upset. On Saturday morning, I had to decide if she should see the vet or if it "could wait" until Monday. I also had to be at a workshop from 9am to 6pm and it was already 8:15am. I had called her oncologist on Friday and told him the story (got into trash, still not eating well, temperature was normalish at 101.6, etc.) and his advice was to have our regular vet see her to determine if she had an intestinal blockage - which could be quite serious and might require surgery. I decided to take her temperature. It was 101.7 - still normalish, but she whimpered as I was taking her temperature and that sealed the deal - she needed to go to the vet. So Mike canceled his morning meeting and took her to the vet by himself - for the first time. We were both nervous, to say the least.

Long story short, the vet took blood and some urine and during the exam decided that he did not think that she had an intestinal blockage - he was thinking pancreatitis or a kidney infection. He settled on a kidney infection due to high white blood cell count and no vomiting (which might have inclined him toward pancreatitis). After an injection of antibiotic and a prescription, they returned home. More importantly, last night, Abby slept through the night - YEAH!! She's still not eating all that well, but one thing at a time. Dr. Clemens did say that a kidney infection could affect her appetite, but I think that we'll make a follow-up appointment to talk about the appetite thing in a week or so.

Okay. Time to walk the dogs one more time tonight and then sleep...

Back To Life, Back To Reality...

Sorry, the lines of that song just came to me as I was wondering what to write. I was thinking, "Hmmm....the big news is that Abby got into the trash today and is now perfuming the house with disagreeable odors." Since Abby has always been the culprit when trash is involved (with some assistance from the cats on occasion we suspect) - back to life, back to reality. Let's hope that I get some sleep tonight and don't get "whimpered" into taking her out hourly all night long...

Living Like Abby.

Letting Go...Again

I spent much of the weekend confused. Wondering if Abby was out of remission, or if she had ever been in remission, would she be okay, would I be okay, etc. The little lump on her foot between two of her toes had looked like a new little toe when I found it. It even seemed to have a teeny tiny little toe nail on it. I'm not kidding, I showed Mike and he agreed. It was strange - I started calling it her new toe. I guess anything can happen, right? But dogs don't usually grow new toes. I debated whether it could have been there for a while (or ever?) and we hadn't seen it until now (one reason is that I don't cut her back toenails - ever.) Mike didn't think that was likely, though. So I decided to do a meditation on the new toe, since I wasn't going to rush her into the vet over the weekend anyway. So I imagined that I was able to vaccuum all of the weird toe cells and any other strange cells in the area into the little teeny toe nail. Once that was accomplished, I imagined that I could shut down all blood flow to the new toe - I cut the lines and then capped them off. Then the new toe would have all the unwelcome cells in it and no blood flow and it would just fall away.

The meditation helped me somehow and relaxed me - whether or not it did anything for Abby is another story. I was gone all day on Saturday and then most of Sunday, too. I had not seen Abby licking at her foot and Mike hadn't either, so that was good. I looked at the new toe on Sunday evening - and it was gone. Yup, gone. There is a small reddish area where the lumpy new toe was, but no more lumpy toe. I've checked several times and it's still gone. I wondered if maybe it was ulcerating, like her original sore, but the area does not seem to be getting bigger or worse - maybe even getting a little better. I'm not saying it won't come back or couldn't still cause a problem, but hey, we never know, right? So, I'm letting go again. Letting go of the fact that we might have more lumps in our future. Letting go of the fact that we have to take things day by day. Letting go of the possiblity of more drugs or supplements or surgeries or other stuff. Just letting it all go - again...

Today

Abby's ALT level is still coming down - now it's down to 392 from 1090-something last week. While talking to the vet he said that if she doesn't get any more lumps we will probably take a break on the chemo. Yeah!

Then tonight I saw her licking her foot. It might be another lump. Not sure, can't tell.

Don't know what's next...

Another Story

After several weeks of rehearsals and about 2/3 of our performances were under our belts, Abby started to improvise. At one point in the play, a police officer is scolding Annie and a group of people who have been living under a bridge. At this time, Annie has caught Sandy and is holding her on a rope. So the police officer scolds the people and Annie talks back and while the officer is disbursing the ruffians he realizes that Annie is the runaway from the orphanage and takes her into custody (Sandy gets loose and lost in the scuffle). That sets the scene. So at one of the afternoon performances (we were doing two or three every weekend), we get to this scene and when the police officer starts scolding the group - Abby starts barking back at him. She had never done this before. She barked right back at him like, "Don't you yell at Annie!!" She almost drowned him out. The actors just played along and the crowd loved it, of course, and we just chuckled and shook our heads, "That's our Abby." She proceeded to do this at ALL of the remaining performances.

Even funnier was that backstage she would sidle up to the man playing the police officer (a really nice guy who liked her a lot) and she would wag her tail at him and ask for pets. I always interpreted that as her saying, "I was only ACTING out there. I really like you!"

That crazy Abby...

Two Months

We are two months post diagnosis of our cutaneous malignant epitheliotropic lymphoma. But who's counting? This is the expected life expectancy for dogs with lymphoma who do not receive treatment. Two months. It sure feels like it's been longer than two months, but the calendar doesn't lie. Abby went to the onocologist today to get more bloodwork done to check on those pesky liver enzymes. She's been hit or miss with eating, so I've started to get creative - today a scrambled egg in olive oil served over wet and dry kibble with chunks of fresh carrot - YUM! Oh and several spoonfuls of yogurt - which she loves.

Next task is to discuss whether or not to do any more chemo. We'll see what the blood says and go from there.

Sorry, I didn't write another thespian episode (I know everyone is waiting with bated breath). Will do that tomorrow...

The Thespian

So tonight, a story...

Once upon a time (two years ago), I received a phone call about the fact that Beachwood Middle School was performing the play Annie and was looking for a dog to play Sandy. This person (Amy Gutmann of Canine University) thought of Abby and wondered if I would be interested. WOULD I BE INTERESTED? ARE YOU KIDDING? I called the woman in charge of the play about 12.5 seconds after hanging up with Amy and we went down to audition that evening.

So, we enter the auditorium and walk down the aisle toward the front (it was sort of obvious why we were there...) Sam and Mike stayed in the back and rolled their eyes a lot (in support, I think). Abby greeted everyone enthusiastically (surprise, surprise) and everyone loved her and was asking questions about her. After a few minutes they decided to have one of the two Annies sing "Tomorrow" up on stage with Abby, to see how Abby felt about the singing, the music, the costume, the stage, etc. I found this completely amusing since I knew that Abby would absolutely adore being on stage. So up on stage they go, Abby looking adoringly at Annie, Annie singing to the crowd and to Abby. Abby wagging her tail and looking thoughtful, then lying down at Annie's feet and looking up at her and out at the audience. I am not making this up. This is exactly what happened. I was nearly in tears from trying to stifle my laughter so as not to distract her.

When the song was over, they were pretty sold on her to say the least. The actor who was playing Daddy Warbucks said to me, "Has she acted before?" I attempted to keep a straight face as I answered, "No, but she's always been a ham. She has never, ever done this before." He was amazed...

And so, Abby became a paid thespian. Another episode tomorrow...

To Know Or Not To Know

Is it better to know how long we have or not to know how long we have? I was wondering this as I was playing with Abby tonight - making faces and jousting with her to get her riled up. She was pouncing on things and barking like crazy. So, would I rather know that she's fine and we have "plenty of time" to play and walk and talk and joust - or would I prefer to know that we had little time and that I should make her my top priority? Conversely, would it be best to not know either and be faced with living in the moment. The question is moot, of course, because we don't get to choose whether we know or not - but moot questions can still be interesting questions...

The question applies to much more than Abby, of course. Would I prefer to know that my car is going to need $700 of repairs, or not know? Would I prefer to know that I'm going to be working at my dream job next year, or not know? Would you prefer to know about upcoming illnesses, or financial windfalls, or not know?

I know that I do not know...if I would want to know or not know...

Just A Note...

I arrived home after dark this evening and as I exited the car, two dogs barked me into the house with great joy.

I returned their joy, we ate, we walked, we're going to sleep...

Bloodwork

So Abby's ALT is down to 1092, says the technician who calls me this morning. I said, "Are you sure? Because it was about 1000 to begin with..." No, she says, it was 2000 to begin with - uh, that's not what they told me on the phone when I asked. So the good news is that it's come down by half in one week with no medicines or any other interventions (except tapping, Reiki, and love, of course). The bad news is that it was twice as high initially as I had been told. The short story is that the oncologist wants to recheck bloodwork again next week.

Sounds fine to me.

Abby ate her peanut butter pill balls tonight and she had pretty close to a normal ration of kibble and wet food (hand fed - this appears to be the current phase). She's obviously hungry, but is being somewhat picky or suspicious or both. Who cares? She's eating and the ALT is coming down. Let's party! Treats for everyone!

A Breakthrough

Today, I was giving Abby her pills in peanut butter as we have become accustomed to doing. I coat 2-3 capsules at a time with peanut butter forming a ballish type structure and then I offer it to her to see if she will eat it. She turns her head away and then I gently open her mouth and place the peanut butter ball way back on her tongue. Hold her mouth loosely shut, she mouths it a little, and then poof - all gone. So today, the above happened (offer, turn away, down the hatch) and then when I made the second peanut butter pill ball and offered it to her...she turned away again. But then, as I gently opened her mouth, she reached for the peanut butter ball...and ate it! I could see the wheels in her head turning - "Hmmmm, next she's going to open my mouth and put her fingers and that thing that tastes pretty good into my mouth. Maybe I can just take the thing and avoid the fingers..." Abby then proceeded to eat the other extra crunchy pill balls the same way. Ah-hah! This was much easier all around. I would love if it would continue, but this whole letting go thing kind of requires that I not get attached to anything. So, I won't. But it would be really cool if it could be easier on both of us more often, at least :)

Also, we had a blood test to check liver enzymes yesterday (no results back yet) and Abby has definitely been more interested in food - to the point of eating wet and dry dog food with only off-Broadway quality theatrics on my part (like tossing kibble bits to her as if they were treats, warming food up, and pretending to eat her food myself with lots of "Ooooohhhh, yummy! Delicious!" comments.) Sam has also volunteered to try all of her food prior to her eating it to make sure that it is safe. In addition, he mocks her hesitation by diving in and stealing anything that she refuses. "Fine, you don't want it, I'll eat it. Get out of my way, Abby! Tastes good to me!" It's his way of helping encourage her competitive eating spirit - otherwise known as "sharking".

Another day, another night...

Two Kinds of Selfish People

"We think that by protecting ourselves from suffering we are being kind to ourselves. The truth is, we only become more fearful, more hardened, and more alienated. We experience ourselves as being separate from the whole. This separateness becomes like a prison for us, a prison that restricts us to our personal hopes and fears and to caring only for the people nearest to us. Curiously enough, if we primarily try to shield ourselves from discomfort, we suffer. Yet when we don't close off and we let our hearts break, we discover our kinship with all beings. His Holiness the Dalai Lama describes two kinds of selfish people: the unwise and the wise. Unwise selfish people think only of themselves, and the result is confusion and pain. Wise selfish people know that the best thing they can do for themselves is to be there for others. As a result, they experience joy."

from When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron

Dogs are wise selfish people...

Surprise, Surprise

Abby ate her dinner tonight. All of it. From her bowl. And it was kibble. The new, grain-free kibble that she has been refusing to even look at closely. Okay, so it had some "cat food soup" added to it - warm water swished around in a nearly empty cat food can. But, still, she ate all of it. Over the past few days she had started to eat a few pieces of the "old" kibble when it was tossed on the floor - but not out of her bowl.

The second surprise was that she then proceeded to eat all of her supplements in peanut butter. Gobbled them down. Who would have thunk it? I'm beginning to wonder if the high liver enzymes haven't been having some effect on her appetite and maybe they are starting to recede and she's perhaps feeling a little more like herself.

The focus for the past week or so had been on Abby's not eating. A few days ago, the focus changed because I realized that focusing on her not eating was causing me to not eat and then I thought, "Am I not eating because Abby's not eating, or is she not eating because I'm not eating?" - the short version of that was wondering if my stress about her not eating had begun to affect her and discourage her from eating. So we started just not caring if she ate or not - not in a heartless way, but in a matter-of-fact way. "Okay, so don't eat it then, if you don't want it." I wondered if maybe she knew something that we didn't. Maybe it was better for her body to not have much food to process for a few days - giving the system a little downtime, maybe. She also was able to eat anything that she wanted (which still wasn't much) as long as it was not likely to make her sick(er), of course... And magically, she ate tonight (so did I, don't worry, Mom). Whether we had anything to do with her change or not, I'll never know...

So here we are. Not sure what tomorrow morning will bring, of course (or even the overnight hours). But with the full moon shining down through the middle of the skylight right now, things feel pretty darn good.

Eating A Grilled Cheese Sandwich

Abby just ate a piece of grilled cheese sandwich left over from lunch. To some of you this is not earth shattering news, but to us this is a pretty good way to end the day.

So...We Wait

Abby's ALT level was about 1000, normal is less than 200. So, it's high. As the last post stated, though, the ALT value can be quite high and not indicate a decline in liver function. My conversation with the oncologist today resulted in a decision to wait two weeks and test Abby's enzyme levels again either next week or the week after to make sure that they are coming down. If they are coming down, then we consider restarting the chemo in conjunction with the liver protective drug.

So...we wait. Abby's lesson for me through all this appears to be - let go. And then let go some more. And then let go some more. Let go of Abby - we can't hold her here anyway. Let go of the test values. Let go of agonizing over decisions made or unmade. Let go of always trying to do the right thing. Let go of worry. Let go of expectations. Let go of progress. Let go of stability. Just let go.

And then do it again.

Sky High

ALT value, that is. Off the charts. ALT is a liver enzyme that indicates injury to the liver when it is detected at a high level in the blood. The good news is that ALT levels can be very high and be essentially meaningless because they may not indicate any change in liver function. This was a not unexpected event, since it is a known side effect of lomustine, since lomustine is processed by the liver. Usually, the liver recovers between doses, but sometimes it doesn't. So we did not get Abby's third dose of chemo yesterday and we are on hold until we get a valid number for the ALT reading - it was literally off the charts of their equipment, so they sent a sample to an outside lab. At that point we decide whether to continue with chemo (reduced dose, in conjunction with a liver protecting drug, etc.) or whatever else the options are.

Surprisingly, I was not surprised by this result. I "knew", you might say... So, now Abby is not eating much of anything - whether it is all suspicion that we've hidden disgusting things in all her food or if she truely has no appetite, we aren't sure. She did eat some kibble last night and a few scraps of chicken, with our convincing - oh and she chowed on a half of a carrot. Today she had the crust piece from a loaf of bread and a few pieces of kibble (unfortunately I forgot to get carrots at the store). I gave her her supplements in peanut butter at mid-day and it wasn't too painful. She didn't eat them, but the peanut butter stuck them together and made them harder for her to spit out, in addition to tasting pretty good. Altogether, not too bad. Otherwise, Abby is acting pretty normally, maybe a little subdued, but still trotting and chasing things in the woods, she barked me into the house this evening, and was humping Jinxie last night.

So, we wait to hear from the oncologist tomorrow...

Tonight

So, I got frustrated trying to give Abby her pills tonight and yelled. Immediately felt sorry. I was mad at everything (too many damn pills, cat with urinary tract infection, undone chores, etc.) Everything except Abby - whom I yelled at. She, of course, instantly forgave me. Another thing I hope to learn from Abby. Immediate and complete forgiveness. Still learning...

To Medicate or Not To Medicate?

So, I started Abby on metronidazole on Saturday morning. It's an antibiotic the oncologist gave us a just-in-case prescription for, that also helps to control diarrhea. I tortured myself with, "Medicine? No medicine? Medicine, no medicine, medicine? She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me..." But why did I torture myself? That's the interesting question. Why medicine? So that Abby could be on a somewhat normal diet for the upcoming three days before her next chemotherapy treatment and build up her strength as well as not losing any weight due to reduced rations and increased "exports". Why not medicine? Because I don't like to medicate if there is another option, such as resting her digestive system for a day or so (which we tried, and did help). Because I know that she'll be on a prophylactic antibiotic starting on the day of chemo and that means being on two antibiotics at the same time. Because I want to be able to say, "She's doing great!", when we arrive for the chemo, instead of, "Well, her stomach was upset last week, she probably got into something she shouldn't have (at the barn, most likely) and she's had diarrhea and is taking metronidazole." So, I decided to go with the medicine - I guess we'll see what happens...

Chemo on Tuesday, if her bloodwork is okay... No one ever said this was going to be easy. By the way, she's acting normally and running, jumping, and playing with toilet paper tubes - I'm tortured, she's definitely not...

Feeling Better?

Well, Abby and I did get up at about 3am to take a walk (her decision, not mine) and it was "evident" that her stomach was still upset. She then slept the rest of the night (yeah!). This morning and during the day it seemed that her system was settling down. Minimal food inputs were correlated with improved "outputs" and very normal activity level resulting in a high likelihood of "feeling better"-ness. This evening the trend has continued... More information, with graphs and charts :), tomorrow.

The Barn?

Maybe the barn wasn't such a good idea yesterday. Abby was not enthusiastic about her dinner last night, nor her breakfast or dinner today. She would eat them, but rather uninterestedly and only with some prompting and theatrics. Then, diarrhea on the floor when we returned from dinner tonight. Not good. Of course, we can't be sure who doesn't feel well, but I have my suspicions. She is acting fine and went on a normal evening walk. We'll see how the overnight goes...

The Barn

In our house, "Want to go to the barn?" is a clarion call to action. This question is followed by Abby's cocked head and then absolute lunacy. Leaping in the air, barking, running around, Sampson snorting and stomping his feet, all tails wagging furiously. Pure joy. It's as if they have never been there before - every time they go. "Oh my GOD, really? We can go to the BARN???!!!!" Then we drive (see the photo below) and when we arrive they blast out of the car (okay, Abby blasts and Sam steps out) and promptly disappear. Not really disappear, but they go about their business - free to do whatever they want (more or less).

Abby is a bit schizophrenic at the barn - she runs far afield, chasing, smelling, hunting, begging, visiting - but God forbid she doesn't know where I am. She gets absolutely frantic if she can't find me. She goes to the shed (Emmy's barn) then to the front arena, then the back arena, then the driveway, then the lounge, then the car, then the field, then..... Getting more and more fussed up. People have tried to console her when she gets in this tizzy, but to no avail. She will not rest until she has found me. Meanwhile, guess where Sam is? Lying by the car. He figures, "This is how we got here, this is probably how we're getting home. She can't go far without the car." Pretty clever guy, that Sampson. Which one are you? Are you a Sampson or an Abby? Not saying one is better than the other - just two different approaches to the same problem. Same outcome, "Oh, there she is.", followed by tail wagging... The things dogs teach us...

The God's Honest Truth

I just don't feel like writing right now. Abby is sleeping at my feet and breathing really deeply and I want to join her in those activities. Since I told a few of you that I would write something tonight - consider this something. Living like Abby requires honesty and action - GOODNIGHT!

A Most Normal Meal

Sometimes it's the little things. If you skip over the pill appetizer course (otherwise known as the really-it's-just-a-treat course), Sam and Abby's dinner was the most normal that I can remember since the summer, maybe. I scooped Sam's measured amount of kibble, dumped it into his bowl, he dove it like a champ and then I scooped Abby's measured amount of kibble, dumped it in her bowl and in she dove. She was almost as sharklike as in "the old days". No fuss, no muss, no extra this and that, no encouragement needed. Two clean bowls in about two minutes, I'd guess. Why, you might ask, is this news? On July 23rd, Abby did not want to eat her breakfast. That day, she went to the vet and we started the journey. I had felt that maybe even for a few weeks she hadn't been devouring her meals in her usual bloodthirsty way - still readily, but not as bloodthirsty. Something only I would have noticed. I have always said that if my dogs do not eat, they are going to the vet. Some animals are picky and might not mind missing a meal - not my pups. Food hounds from the day that I met them. Every time they have not wanted food, they've gone to the vet immediately and I've never regretted it. It has only happened twice to Sam and once with Abby. I think that July 23rd was some early stage of our adventure with cancer. The lesion was spotted on August 27th - just over a month later.

So, that's why such a normal mealtime gives me joy. Boring, maybe. But we're starting to like boring around here on occasion...

Escape!!

So I opened the door this morning to let Jasper back in (he likes to go outside with the dogs in the morning and often stays out a little while) and I feel something brush my leg. It was Abby shooting past me out the door at a dead run. What the heck? I see her streak across the yard towards...a squirrel. She chased it across the driveway and up a tree and then frantically jumped at the base of the tree and barked at it. The impunity!! How dare that *(&^^*&^ squirrel!! She then decided to look for other quarry and was not particularly willing to be persuaded back into the house (no collar on, obviously no leash). After a few minutes, she had had her fun and somewhat grudgingly followed me inside. It used to be traumatic when she escaped the house, but this was sort of amusing and refreshing. On other occasions she would head for the hills and the resulting search could take up to 15 minutes or so. Much of that time was spent watching her careening from yard to yard, back and forth across Silsby or Tullamore or Meadowbrook. Heart stopping, to be sure, but she was having the time of her life.

One time there were about four people tailing her to keep her in sight and prevent her from making it out to Lee Rd., while subtley herding her back toward the house. All of a sudden she runs right across the road in front of a police cruiser stopped at the intersection of Silsby and Meadowbrook. Oh crap! Now she's going to jail and we'll get a ticket and.... The officer turns his car to follow her (east on Silsby, right in front of our house) and then he stops the car and...opens his door. Abby runs right over to say, "Hello" and he pets her and takes hold of her collar. We ran up panting and he handed her over with a smile and went on his way.

Just another day in the life of Abby...

Wild Thing

Abby has been full of beans today. Or another of my favorite sayings, "full of piss and vinegar." Where they heck did that one come from? Piss and vinegar? Pardon any typos as I'm trying to type with Archie (the cat) half on the keyboard and licking my fingers. Oh, yes, back to Abby... Jumping and leaping and barking at us. Enthusiastically taking her pills in old fasioned, previously snubbed Pill Pockets. Diving into dinner and cruising the floor for cat food and assorted droppage. The oncologist's office called and said that they had her blood work results back and that her blood counts had dropped but not too badly and they expected them to bounce back in time for her next chemo treatment. If they had dropped too low, we might have postponed... She sure is acting fine. No one but her mother would know that anything has happened and even I almost forget occasionally.

Onward and upward, one day at a time...

Amazing Grace...

...who saved a wretch like me. I heard a spot on NPR this morning with a man named Dr. Ralph Stanley who sings "mountain music" that he brought to the world from his home in southwest Virginia. Here's the link if anyone is interested http://wamu.org/programs/dr/. Amazing Grace has always been one of my favorite songs and to hear this man sing it in his "hundred year old voice" was quite something. It got me thinking that the "grace" in the song might be anything and would be different for different people. It might be God to someone, nature to someone else, Buddha to another, Mohammed, Jesus, a friend, a job, a purpose, a country, an animal, a relative, or anything else that has saved someone figuratively or literally.

My "grace" has been different over time, I suspect, but animals have often played the part. I wish Amazing Grace to everyone tonight...

I Know There's Something in the Liverwurst

Abby has ceased to be tricked into eating her pills. She has become a super sleuth at finding and avoiding all medicines and supplements in treats and yummy, stinky foods. We are scrambling to match wits with her superior discrimination skills. It only took her a day or so to figure out that they were buried in the wet dog food in her bowl - not touching that stuff again - YUCK! Pill Pockets worked for a few weeks - back when she was gullible. Then on to dog safe brownie treats (made with carob, not toxic-to-dogs chocolate) warmed in the microwave - complete failure. She liked the treats, but the pills were easily avoided. DRAT! Then to stinky, slimy liverwurst... Ah-hah! Success! For about four days or so... Now we're on to hot dogs (kosher, Hebrew National, only the best junky meat products for our Abby) also warmed in the microwave. Resounding success, for...one day... It's so ironic that Sam has readily eaten his pills in all of these sneaky hiding places. But not Abby... So today we tried Kraft Singles - again success. But for how long??

We'll keep trying because it sure beats shoving them down her throat. We've had to do that a number of times and none of us like it. Current thinking is that rotating through the bullpen and mixing up the time of day that she takes her "treats" might be the solution.

Only Abby knows for sure.

Living with Cancer Abby...

...is a lot like living with Normal Abby. With a few more vet visits, a little more vomit, slightly more frequent panic, a little less fur, a lot more pills each day, a stitch less energy occasionally, a lot more insight, buckets of new found tolerance, numerous living-in-the-moment moments, and appreciation up the wazoo. She's sort of like Malibu Barbie - same doll, just a different outfit...

Reiki For Abby

I'm really tired. Abby is really tired too. She was out in the yard a lot this weekend enjoying the lovely weather. Just before we settled in for the night, I offered Abby some Reiki and she accepted. She seemed very receptive and fell asleep quickly and fell into a dream. Happy dogs make for happy people...

Time

It's 12:08am.
Abby is forty one days past her surgery.
One month past her cancer diagnosis.
Five days past her second chemo treatment.
Twelve years and eight months into her life.
Ten years and five months into our lives.
Approximately eight hours and forty five minutes before her next meal.
About three seconds until her next inhalation.

Never a moment out of our hearts...

Rainy Days and Nights

Animal people are often a bit tougher than other folk. No matter the weather we're out in it. Horses, dogs, and cats don't need any less attention and care if the weather is terrificly hot, way below zero, wet, or snowy. Just a random thought on a blustery night. I picked up a cat on East 47th Street this morning that we had neutered at the APL a day or so ago and that we were holding onto in case I could find someone to adopt him. He was pretty yucky, so I gave him a bath and towel dried him (he's a very friendly fellow). A friend is going to adopt him and it gives me tremendous pleasure to know that he is sleeping soundly right now in a kitty condo in one of our spare bedrooms - neutered, treated for fleas and worms, with basic vaccinations, a full belly, a litter box, fresh water, and two warm towels for a bed. One less cat out in the rain.

Nearly every time I walk Sam and Abby in the rain, I think about all of the homeless animals that aren't just out for a quick "constitutional" and then back into the warmth of a house. At least Lion (who has a scraggly tail with a puff on the end) isn't one of them tonight...

Feeling Like A Bad Mom

So....Abby threw up last night. Contained in the second of the two messes was a piece of plastic. Chewed up, but still identifiable as some sort of small plastic container. Like the kind that condiments are served in at restaurants. Sort of like a single serving butter container. Where could she have gotten that from? She hasn't been to any restaurants. Oh wait, we have... Hmmm....didn't we bring home some really yummy rolls from lunch on Sunday? Weren't they on the counter in the kitchen? Uh-oh. A quick midnight run to the kitchen showed that there were no longer any rolls, nor bags that had contained said rolls, on the counter. What kind of a mom lets her cancer- and chemo-filled dog get into things that cause vomiting? Or could cause worse than vomiting? An imperfect mom, I guess. Poor Abby was so hungry she just had to convince the cats to knock the rolls off the counter so that she wouldn't fade away to a pile of fur. She was just being Abby, doing what dogs do. Me, on the other hand, I was the bad one.

After the vomiting, she looked much perkier and proceeded to sleep contentedly through the rest of the night. She has been bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning and acting normally, but I'm still not entirely settled. Maybe my task is to live like Abby and not worry about the upcoming minutes and hours. Right now she's lying in the sunroom comfortably. That's good enough for me.

Second Chemo

Well, Abby had her second chemotherapy treatment yesterday. It was very uneventful. Her bloodwork indicated that her liver enzymes were fine, so they gave her the treatment (if her enzymes were elevated, that could have put the kibash on chemotherapy). With each successive treatment the chance of side effects increases and they will check her white blood cell count on Tuesday next week to make sure that it hasn't dropped too low. Our oncologist (sounds funny to say that), Dr. Boria, is really great. He has spent a lot of time with us answering questions and explaining the treatment protocol and the "state" of Abby's cancer, so to speak. We have not found any new lumps, so her disease is "subclinical" - it can't be seen, in other words. He explained that the more chemotherapy treatments she can tolerate, the more cancer cells will be destroyed and the increased chance of prolonged remission. We're going to let Abby tell us how many treatments she wants and needs... So far, so good with this one. One day at a time...

Naughty Old Dogs

There's nothing better than having to discipline your old dogs because they're being bad. "Abby, get out of there!!", "Sampson, leave it!!", "Abby stop humping Jinxie!!", "Sampson, that's not your food!!" Nothing better...

On Saturday, at the clambake, Mike came in and said, "Sam is not to be outside unattended!" I said, "What do you mean 'unattended'? He was being watched." Or so I thought. Mike had sensed that he was missing and had gone looking for him...and found him near the corner of Silsby and Meadowbrook, headed toward Lee Road. I think he was tired of the crowd and wanted to get a beer at the Colony. Bad dog, Sampson! What were you doing down by the road by yourself? Where were you going? Why? I hate to encourage his delinquency, but I was not-so-secretly proud of him and his chutzpah for wandering off on his own...after I knew he was safe, of course...

I hope that I'm still being disobedient, contrary, pleasure-seeking, independent, and opinionated when I'm as old as they are. Living like dogs...

Faith

One of my favorite quotes is "Jump and the net will appear." Easier said than done. I had absolute faith that the weather would be fine for our clambake on Saturday night. I had no doubt. "Heavy Cloud No Rain", a song by Sting played several times yesterday afternoon even though the CD player was set to random/repeat. Coincidence? I think not... So why is it so hard to have faith in more "important" situations? Why can I have complete confidence in something as unpredictable as the weather and sometimes not trust my own intuition in other areas?

"Jump and the net will appear.", Abby just jumps... Which reminds me of an Abby story from years ago. We were in the Squire Valley View woods down by the ravine and I couldn't find Abby. I called and called and called and...nothing. No sound of her collar, no rustling in the woods, nothing. Sam was nearby and totally unconcerned, but I was beginning to get nervous. The park is over 700 acres and there's plenty of wildlife - where was she??? Then I heard her coming toward me and then I saw her. She was returning to me at a dead run (good girl) - only she was on the far side of the ravine from me. She came barrelling through the woods and down a slope toward the creek, but what I could see that she could not, was that the slope ended in a six foot dropoff down to the creek. I started yelling, "No, no, no, Abby, no, no, stop!!", but she kept coming and then as she was sliding down the slope, she saw the dropoff, but she couldn't stop. I saw her go off the end of the slope and start falling and then I closed my eyes. I knew that it wasn't going to be good - one broken leg at least, probably. No sound, I opened my eyes and she was up and running through the creek towards me. Unscathed. Perfectly fine. Happy, and panting, and loving life.

"Jump and the net will appear." - Abby does...

Company...

...is great! We love to have company, be good company, be considered company... Abby thinks that having company stay over is a really special event which requires her utmost attention. She must greet the company enthusiastically (so that they know they are welcome), she must attend to them during their stay (by including them in her family without any reservations), she must check on them every morning and - if they are sleeping in - sleep in with them to show solidarity and understanding. Abby also treats all visitors as kin by begging treats and pets from them just as boldly (or more so) than she would her "regular" attendees.

On the topic of visitors Abby and I agree thoroughly - everyone is welcome in our house and once they cross the threshold they are family - whether it is one time for one minute or thousands of lifetimes. We aim to be "good company" and keep "good company" - come join us anytime!

Dreaming

What is it that dogs dream about? Why do dogs dream? Is it for the same reasons that people dream? Not that I entirely know what those are either... Some postulate that people's dreams are the mind's way of answering our questions or the mind's method of processing and learning from our daily events and actions. Others claim that dreams are just random, meaningless synapses firing away while our body is inactive. But what about dogs? Are Abby and Sam currently subconsciously solving the problems in their lives? What problems might those be? How to get more kibble? What to do about the US economy? Discovering the meaning of life?

It seems to me that dogs ARE the answers to most of our questions, if we just listen to them. Maybe they're downloading information for us while they are breathing deeply and twitching... Maybe their dreams are part of our dreams... Maybe they're dreaming for us...

I'm going to dream on it...

A Few Tips

A Few Tips on Living Like Abby...

1. Eat with gusto.
2. Sleep with gusto.
3. Love with gusto.
4. Bark with gusto.
5. Run with gusto.
6. Play with gusto.
7. Repeat Steps #1-#6, in any order, as desired.

Who is this Gusto character, anyway?

Spider Bite

No, this is not a drink being served at the clambake this weekend... It's what I have on the right side of my rib cage. I think that some little critter took a bite out of me on Friday and now I have a red, hot, swollen, tender circle about FOUR INCHES in diameter on the right side of my rib cage. On Friday and Saturday I felt really weird and "flu-like" - turns out those are symptoms of spider bites. I even went to the doctor today - they were impressed by it. It might not actually be a spider bite (spiders rarely bite), but it sounds cooler than a bug bite. I went to the doctor because in rare circumstances spider bites can be extremely dangerous and even fatal. Basically, I didn't want to miss the clambake...

I still like spiders...

Just Another Beautiful Fall Day

Fall is here! Sam and I love fall. It's cooler outside and we don't pant so much. I pretty much love every season, but Sam doesn't like summer so much. He's black and has a lot of fur so he gets really hot. Mom is going to post a picture of us from last fall. She had us pose (we're good at posing) and then she set up the camera and said, "Ssssttaaayyyyy, sttaaayyyy, stttaaayyy..." and she ran and got in the picture too. We thought she was being a little weird, but we stayed.

Today, I got lots of napping done, a little walking and trotting, some barking, and eating. A full day. Time for bed...

Gratitude

I am grateful for Abby's cancer. I am grateful for my old house. I am grateful for the leak in my skylight that drips on the edge of my bed. I am grateful for my utility bills. I am grateful for my friends and family. I am grateful for my agility students. I am grateful for my incredible crew of in-home pet therapists. I am grateful for the comforter on my bed keeping me warm. I am grateful for the breeze blowing outside. I am grateful for Sampson's illness last February. I am grateful for my employment. I am grateful for the new people that have recently entered my life. I am grateful for wine. I am grateful for all the cats that have found me when they needed help. I am grateful for parties. I am grateful for Emmy's episode of founder in January. I am grateful for the tomatoes still ripening in my garden. I am grateful for everything and everyone in my life. During a visit to the ATMA Center Swami Shankardev once said, "Just remember, it's all good. Even the bad."

I wouldn't be who I am without the support and challenges that have come my way. I am grateful...

Just Wondering...

...if anybody has noticed that the subheading on the blog (below the Living Like Abby heading) changes daily. Just curious...

The Most Beautiful Music

Last night when I returned home I heard the most beautiful music. The sound of two dogs barking me into the house. The most beautiful music in the world...

The Little Blond Dog

I love this little blond dog. A quote for (from) Abby:

If you let your fear of consequence prevent you from following your deepest instinct, your life will be safe, expedient, and thin.

by Katharine Butler Hathaway

Abby had some breakfast and yucky pills this morning - BLECH! Hated the pills this morning... Now resting quietly. Sleeping a lot - have to catch up. Slept all night long - we all slept all night long. Today is a good day to appreciate the little things in life...

A Thing of Beauty is a Joy for Ever

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darken'd ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits...
-- John Keats

A Rough Night...

...and a rough morning. Abby kept us up all night last night asking to go out and fussing and generally being uncomfortable. She would go outside about every hour to pee and have diarrhea (though not too bad, just really soft). This was torture for all of us. No sleep was had and much worrying was done. I took her temperature at about 2am or so and it was 102.1 - okay. Then at about 5:30am it was 103.1 - a bit high. Then at 7:15am it was 103.6. I had spoken with the Referral Center at 5:30am for advice and they said that they should have her blood results from yesterday, in this morning, so that might provide some insight.

I decided to wait until after the emergency hours to bring her in, so she and I went for a ride at about 8am. We arrived and waited a while, but they were great about getting us in. Abby was shaking, very quiet, and looked really uncomfortable, but otherwise okay (greeting people, wanted to greet dogs, etc.) She was a very much subdued version of her usual self. After talking with the doctor, we decided to do a couple of X-rays to make sure that there wasn't something in there that shouldn't be (for example, about 4 days ago, someone in the house chewed up a plastic fork used to distribute wet pet food). We also decided to do a urinalysis, mainly on my request because she had a nasty resistant UTI last year and she had been peeing and drinking a bit more.

So the X-rays showed nothing unusual and we don't have the urinalysis results back yet. Dr. Boria said that he was not too concerned (in stark contrast to me). It seemed that might be a good sign, since he does this a lot and I do not. When she was "in the back" of the hospital in a cage, I could hear her barking which I took as a good sign - "Don't leave me here! Don't leave me here!!" When they brought her out they said that she had also been jumping around and didn't look like anything was wrong. Soooo....we left with a prescription for Flagyl (metronidazole) which is an antibiotic that should also help relieve her diarrhea. When I got home I put a fleece shirt on her since the doctor had said that she might be shaking because she was cold (chills from the fever in the extremely air conditioned hospital). Since I did that, she hasn't been shaking, or at least it's so dramatically reduced as to not be readily noticeable.

Fast forward a few hours, her temp was still reading 103.6 - good that it had not increased, but she doesn't want to have anything to do with food. That means shoving lots of pills down her throat and she's quite clever about hiding them from you and then depositing them on the floor later. A lot of pills means - 3 K9 Immunity capsules, 1 cephalexin capsule, 1 fish oil capsule, 1 Tranfer Factor tablet, 1 metronidazole tablet, and then a partridge in a pear tree. Poor girl...

Thankfully, she is now sleeping comfortably on the floor in front of the window seat and has been sleeping (with a couple of moves, but no fussing) for about an hour or two, I think. Dr. Boria did not seem to think that this was related to the chemo or to the antibiotic, but to something she may have (shouldn't have) eaten. The good news is that her blood work from yesterday came back entirely normal with regular white blood cell counts. Definitely good news.

Sheer Joy

Nothing expresses sheer joy like a dog fully extended out a car window. Like Abby was today. She was reaching and reaching and sniffing and sniffing. Pushing the limits of stability and safety and thoroughly enJOYing every moment. I need to be more like Abby. Instead, I'm sad tonight, that Abby is sick. I wish she wasn't sick. But, of course, I still wouldn't know how much time we had left - we never know. I'm glad that I'm aware that I don't know. Even through my sad moments tonight, I'm remembering how happy we were all day today - laying in the field at the barn, bringing in the horses, sniffing the air, just hanging out. Sam and Abby and I had a great day today. I'm reminded of Reiki's Five Harmonious Principles:

* Just for today, do not worry.
* Just for today, do not anger.
* Honor your parents, teachers, and elders.
* Earn your living honestly.
* Show gratitude to every living thing.

Yes, Abby is sick, and yes, we're going to keep "living like Abby"...

Yeah! Going to the Doctor's!

So, we're going to see Dr. Boria today for a blood test to see how Abby's white blood cell count looks at one week past the start of chemo. We are now 11 days post diagnosis and 7 days into chemotherapy. Abby is almost totally transitioned to her new food (Innova EVO) and has started her supplement therapy (from Aloha Medicinals). Abby is also on a prophylactic antibiotic since the chemo suppresses the immune system.

She has not been diving into her food as much as she used to, but she's quite distracted by the second and third courses to her mealtime extravaganzas. First course - dry kibble with olive oil - pretty darn good. Second course - wet EVO dog food with lumps (pills) in it - yummy! Third course - 1/2 carrot - woo-hoo!! Occasional fourth course - cat food soup (water sloshed around in a now empty can of wet food) - UNBELIEVABLE! It's not that she's not hungry, she just wants the other stuff more than the dry food. She will eat it with only a little encouragement - as long as I don't move too much - then she thinks that I'm preparing her next tidbits and she follows me around drooling. Sam, meanwhile, thinks that Abby's food is the best thing in the world and makes thinly veiled attempts to steal anything in her bowl if she even glances away for a second. Bad, old dog!! What a great problem to have!

Advice for Puppies and New Dogs

Always follow your people wherever they go inside the house (outside do whatever you want). This is something people call loyalty (and can often result in treats or at least dropped food). Even follow them into the small room. All houses have them and some houses have several of them. People go in these rooms a lot - sometimes they go into the water-sprayer, sometimes they look at themselves in the shiny thing and fluff or remove their fur, sometimes they "take a walk", sometimes they put sticks in their mouths and chew on them - but they're in there a lot. There's usually not any food in the small rooms, but it's a good way to show that we're aren't just following them around for food (which we are), but also to protect them. They like to think that we are sometimes motivated by something other than food (even though we aren't).

Just a few pointers to help you kids out, from an old pro...

Dreamtime

Abby is at the foot of the bed on her right side, breathing very deeply, but not yet asleep. All of her paws are together and she is almost fully relaxed. Oops, just needed to shift position, now back to deep breathing, soon to be dreaming. Time to chase the rabbits and finally catch the mailman - show him who's boss....I got you now squirrel...a bottomless kibble bowl... running...jumping...can't catch me...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Nothing Much Happened Today

So...I was thinking...nothing much happened today. Then I thought - "How many miracles had to occur in order for me to think that 'nothing much happened today'"? My 14 1/2 year old dog, who almost died 1 1/2 years ago repeatedly escaped the yard to bother the neighbors' dogs - miracle. My 1994 Honda Civic with 300,844 miles on it drove another 40-some miles today - miracle. My 16 year old horse who foundered in January was out on pasture for 1 1/2 hours and then we rode merrily around the field bareback - miracle. My 12 1/2 year old dog who has a nasty, rare cancer was threatening to decapitate the mailman earlier and just jumped up into the window seat to watch squirrels - miracle. That's four miracles right there, and that's just the beginning...

Thoughts from Abby

When you're tired, sleep. When you're hungry, eat. When you see trouble, bark. When the cats knock over the lamp and the fan in the sunroom and there's a big crash, RUN!

Old Dogs and Old Cars

There's nothing like living with old dogs and old cars to teach you about living in the moment. When you wake up and they're breathing, you're happy. When you put the key in and the engine starts, you're happy. When they won't stop barking at the neighbors, you're happy. When the power windows still work (though slower than they used to), you're happy. Yes, there are a few extra vet and tow truck visits, but in the whole scheme of things... They know you, they fit you, they understand you, they protect you, they make you vulnerable - all good things. Shiny new cars and younger dogs are wonderful, too; they carry the illusions of safety, health, and long life. But we never know how many miles or years or minutes or feet are left in them - or us. With old dogs and old cars, the minutes and feet become more important. We still don't know how many are left, but now we know that we don't know.

Living Like Abby...

...isn't easy. To be that joyful, exuberant, uninhibited, and present - all the time - is a worthy goal, I guess. She's pretty much "all in" no matter what she's doing - greeting me at the door, eating, getting scolded, shredding toilet paper tubes, sleeping, humping Jinxie (one of the cats), barking, dreaming - she is "all in". I am fighting the impulse to tell her to "take it easy", "relax", "be careful" - what the hell. We're going to do the best we can for her and then let Abby be Abby. She's very good at being Abby...

No More Staples

Abby is very glad to be staple-free and back to running and jumping as she sees fit. Also, loves her new food - Innova EVO (high protein, high fat, low carb - yummy). We're doing a gradual transition, so she's only had a taste so far, but she likes it a lot!

A Busy Day for Abby

Well, Abby liked her lomustine treatment - because the pills were hidden inside Pill Pockets (soft treats with pockets in them). Of course, she loves nearly any food, she would eat a rock if it was inside a Pill Pocket. Then we went to have our sutures removed - Dr. Clemens was very happy with how her incisions have healed - thanks to some aloe applications and the T-shirt and scarf concoction, I think.



After the second vet visit, we went to the barn to see Emmy, and Abby promptly found a sewage like puddle and LAID DOWN in it and STARTED DRINKING IT. Yes, she was wearing her T-shirt at the time. As I ran towards her yelling, "Don't drink that, Abby!!", she kept lapping up the disgusting "water" until I reached her when she emerged from the puddle, completely inky black from her toes to her stomach. Since she is sans collar, I had to grab her by her dirty, stinky T-shirt and haul her into the barn to the wash rack where she reluctantly allowed me to hose her down. Yuck. She ran around the rest of the afternoon "naked" and had a fantastic time going on a walk around the field with me while I rode Emmy and visiting all her friends at the barn.



Sam was also with us all day and thoroughly enjoyed the barn and really hated the two vet visits. In the waiting room of the Referral Clinic, he actually tried to climb into my lap. He put his front paws up and then I lifted all 53 lbs. of him onto my lap. Sam does not like vet's offices very much.



Time for bed. Sam and Abby are already sleeping. Lesson for the day - play hard and then sleep hard.

First Post

Hello!

We have learned that the resident blond goofball (to distinguish from the rest of us goofballs) has cutaneous malignant epitheliotropic lymphoma.

On August 27th, Mike and I found an ulcerated lesion on her neck (hidden under her collar), she went to the vet on August 28th (we found another small lump on the other side of her neck) and we treated the lesion as an infection for five days (it was responding). The morning that we were to return to the vet for a recheck, I found two additional "lumps" and they were starting to look angry. They were red and all about the size of a pencil eraser, except for the ulcerated lesion on her neck which looked like a slice of pepperoni stuck to her neck. We decided to take them all off, as well as a bump on the top of her head that had been there for a year or so. So now Abby has staples. Lots of staples. She was to remain quiet and not run or jump or play or anything until the staples were removed. Hah! Fat chance of that. We tried, but she removed a staple on the first day, so now Abby wears a T-shirt and scarf 24/7 to keep her from picking, licking, scratching or otherwise disrupting her healing. Oh, by the way, we went on vacation to my parents' house in New York three days after her surgery - where she normally runs in the woods and generally raises havoc. Havoc was minimized by keeping her on leash, but she still managed to eat an entire ear of corn (scaring the bejesus out of us, requiring induced vomiting - of Abby, not us) and tracking a bear (we think, based on the "evidence" left "behind" by the tracked animal).

On Friday, September 11th, we received the news of the diagnosis, on September 14th, we visited the oncologist (Dr. Boria, VERY nice man) and today, September 15th we start chemotherapy and have Abby's staples removed. Dr. Boria has recommended five sessions of lomustine at three week intervals, so we're going to do that in addition to switching Her Highness to a high protein, high fat, low carb diet (no more pizza bones, Abby) and adding in some highly recommended immunity boosters (K9 Immunity, Transfer Factor, and fish oil for Omega 3's and 6's).

Drum roll, please..... We have decided to start...a blog... (several people who know me, just fainted, I'm sure) to share the lessons we're learning from Abby and keep everyone up on her progress. Please forgive a first time blogger's mistakes (I hate the word blogger) and feel free to offer me advice. The blog is http://www.livinglikeabby.blogspot.com/ and the first post should be up later today, but it's still in the building stage so don't get your hopes up :). We'll have pictures up on the site tonight...

We don't know what's coming except uncharted waters because this type of cancer usually has a relatively poor prognosis, but it is also almost never caught this early. The oncologist said he usually doesn't see this cancer until the dogs have ulcerated "plaques" all over them and at that time surgery is not an option. So that means, he doesn't know if the surgery to remove the lumps has helped or not. I guess we'll find out...

All the best to all of you - hug your pets from us!

Jen, Mike, Sam, Abby, the cats, and Emmy