I’m in Egypt

In the State of Denial

Well.   Tomorrow – actually today – Max has his first chemo.   Today, he initiated play with a 10 month old puppy at the park.   When we got home, he helped Dad rake leaves – which involves him biting the rake, Dad throwing leaves on top of him, Max chasing clumps of dirt and weeds down the bank and shaking them fiercely when he reaches them, and in general just being goofy together.

This is not a dog who is acting sick.   At all.   There’s a flame burning in my heart – it was tiny at first, but it’s growing.   A flame of hope.   Everyone and everything says this isn’t beatable.  But they don’t know my Max.   They don’t know how strong he is, and how many times he’s come back from something that was supposed to take him down.

Let me hold onto that flame.    Let it grow into a conflagration and burn up all doubt.



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Just a little post about yarn

Oh darn

I have too much yarn

I need a barn

To store my yarn




I have way too much yarn.   I can’t resist it, I go into a store, and I see yarn, and before I know it, I’m petting it and then I think of what I can make with it and then it’s in my cart and on the way home with me.   I am not a hoarder.  I use yarn, I make things, I just like having more than I’ll ever use.   Okay, maybe I’m a hoarder.   A little.

I’m making a scarf now for a friend.   It will be a surprise and since she’s probably the sweetest woman I’ve met in a long time, her reaction when I give it to her will make my heart light for a long time.    She will think I’m giving her a gift, when in reality, she will be giving me one.    She won’t know that, she wouldn’t believe it, but it’s true.

So I crochet, and knit, and buy more yarn, and give things away.   It’s who I am.


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So maybe we got lucky

The monster boy is almost back to himself.   He’s eating and playing and running around the field.    The vet said the incision healed well, his blood count is almost where it should be for perfection, everything looks good.

I’m trying not to  hope, but how can I not?

And then I tell myself that he’s 10 1/2 years old and I’ve been blessed to have him in my life for this long.

We’re trying chemo – it seems more as a precaution than a necessity.


In the meantime, he’s sleeping next to me.   And life is good.

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and so it begins

a road I never wanted to walk

a path that’s so unfair

a dog that’s so very loved, who has given so much joy, brought so much peace and healing

cannot be healed

we can only help him live the last days with joy, give him dignity, give him peace

my heart is shattered

i hear myself telling people that I’m grateful for the time we’ve had, the ten and a half years we’ve had, the so many more years than some people get.   And I see myself smiling at him and telling him he’s a good boy because he’s leaning on me and telling me how much he loves me as only he can.

I see how my husband is breaking in two.   He can’t fix this, he can’t fix Max, he can’t fix me.

We are Max’s people.  That’s how we define ourselves.  I am Max’s mom.  People don’t know me when he’s not with me.   I don’t know who I am without him


I have found friendship and love in places I didn’t expect through this.   Some I thought cared have proven otherwise.   Some I didn’t suspect have shown me the depths of their hearts.

I know the road before us will be dark at times.  I know there will be times when I look at him and think that they’re wrong, he’s fine, he’s perfect.   And there will be times of despair.   I trust our vet, I trust him and Max to tell me when the darkness overcomes the light and it’s time to let him go.   When that day comes, let me mourn, let me grieve, hold my hand, let me cry on your shoulder, do not expect me to be strong and brave.   I’ll be strong tomorrow.   Tonight, I break.

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Frankly, terrified

Still no biopsy results.   All the signs and signals are screaming at me that it’s going to be fine, that it’s benign, that he’s fine, he’ll be fine, he’ll recover from the surgery and all will be well.

He’s so much better than a week ago.   He’s even getting up and down better.   His appetite sucks, but he’s on meds that may be making food taste funny.  And he’s getting spoiled like crazy with cheese and chicken and cream cheese and peanut butter and treats so why eat regular food?

So many people are praying for him.   Max, my Max, my baby boy, has a fan club that is just unbelievably huge – people all over the world are pulling for him, praying that that one word is all we hear tomorrow.   Benign.   Hemangioma.    That’s all we need.

I know, I say that he’s the sweetest dog in the world.   I’m not exaggerating, he is truly the sweetest dog who ever drew breath.   He thinks everyone he meets is his new best friend.  He loves everyone, no matter how they look, or smell, or dress.   He doesn’t care about money, or status, he only cares about “will you pet me, please?   Oh, and if you have treats that would be very nice, but if you let me lean on you and you pet me, you will be my new best friend and I will love you forever.”

One time we were walking at the park.   A man approached us.   He was a small man, sort of round, wearing a bright yellow sweater.   When Max saw him, he got so excited, he was wiggling all over, and he wove his body around this man, quivering with joy.   It was like two old friends meeting after years of being apart.   The man was glowing with love for this dog, petting him and hugging him and laughing.   I laughed from the sheer joy of watching them and asked, “Have we met you before?”   He just laughed and said no.

I believe in angels.  I believe that man in the yellow sweater was an angel, and he recognized a kindred spirit in my Max.   I really pray he’s with us tonight and tomorrow.


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He’s home

It’s so much better and so much more stressful.   We find ourselves listening for every breath, and when he snores or sounds a little funny,  we both stare at him to make sure he’s breathing okay.   He’s doing okay.   We’re getting him up and about every couple of hours, he doesn’t want to get up but once he’s moving, he’s moving!   That there are treats involved is irrelevant at this point.

I was hoping for a pathology report tonight but nothing.  So we wait and hope to hear tomorrow.


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He had surgery this morning to remove his spleen.   The tumor seems to have been only located there and had not spread any further.   Now we wait for biopsy results.
He came through the surgery well.   He’s doing okay, but he’s not home.   I need him home.   I need him here with me.   I miss him like a piece of my heart is missing, and I keep thinking of him lying in that cage, all alone.   I know he’s not, that angels are surrounding him, that he’s got friends there, in spirit, and he’s not alone.


I really really miss him.   Tonight and one more night and then he’s home and I’m gonna hold onto him for as long as I can.

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it’s not good

It’s a tumor, surgery tomorrow.   Prayers will be appreciated

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worry doesn’t solve anything

Max isn’t feeling well.   Yesterday morning he wouldn’t eat.   He turned his head away from food, and that’s not normal.   Nothing tempted him.   He went out to pee and just wanted to lay in the leaves.   That’s not normal, either.   He seemed weak in his rear and just so tired.    I finally got him to eat some food, I had some cheese and that peaked his interest, so then I gave him some of his food and he gobbled it down.
I spent last night on the sofa, and in the recliner, so I could make sure he was breathing.   He was so weak and tired all day and all evening, I’ve been scared this is really bad.

This morning I gave him some food, which he gobbled again.   So I gave him a little more, and he gulped that down too.  I gave him his pain pill and his anti-inflammatory and then we both took a nap.   When we woke up, I gave him a little more food and water, he drank a lot, but he still hasn’t peed today!  This is gonna be a river when he finally goes!

We’re headed to the vet at 5:15.   We decided not to get him up till it was time to go, but about 1/2 hour ago, he got up by himself and walked into the family room.   I guess he wanted to watch TV.   🙂  So I’m still really scared but thinking maybe it won’t be as bad as I thought.
I have no appetite at all.  I keep telling myself to eat, but nothing tempts me.  I had a stick of cheese, shared that with Max.   Maybe when we get back from the vet, I’ll feel like eating something.  Or not.  He owns my heart and I’m scared it’s about to shatter into a million pieces and even my Bear won’t be able to put them back together this time.


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Taxes are taxing my brain

I hate taxes.  I hate doing our taxes, I hate doing taxes for other people.  I get stuck doing them every year because, hey, “you teach accounting, so you can do this!”   Yeah, I CAN do it, but that doesn’t mean I LIKE doing it.

And what I really hate is that people who are content to stay in pissant jobs and make next to no money but managed to do the most difficult thing in the word (heavy sarcasm there) and pop out a couple of kids, get handed a gift by the government every freakin year.

I don’t have kids.  I didn’t have kids because I knew I couldn’t take care of them.  I had barely enough money most of the time to take care of myself.  I never thought someone else should take on my responsibility, so I made sure I didn’t have kids.  This is not a difficult concept.   Apparently, however, it IS difficult for some to grasp that by rewarding bad or thoughtless behavior, you encourage it.   Giving people who have managed to screw up their lives a gift every year is not a gift at all.

Should we end this entitlement?  Well, that would hurt a whole lot of kids, wouldn’t it?  How about this?  How about we give a monthly stipend so that tax time windfall doesn’t go to buy a big screen tv or the latest smart phone, but instead is used to buy food and clothing, and pay the bills for the next year?   Wouldn’t THAT make more sense?

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