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!!!