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?