Farewell, Lily

It was over a month ago that we said goodbye to Lily.  I didn't want to write this post, especially since I had not written in forever, and I didn't want to post something as grief-filled as this particular goodbye.  Beth put a picture of Lily at the door of Hands On Physical Therapy with the caption that Lily had gone to the the light, and I thought it particularly apt.  Lily was always a part of the light and she shared it every single day of her life, even the really bad days.  The cancer returned in a dozen small tumors, one of which--on the old incision site--grew, ruptured and had to be bandaged, which necessitated wearing new fashionable clothing.

  But this is not just about how she died, but also how she lived, and she did both with a grace and generosity of spirit that leaves me almost speechless.  Her brother Mischief began watching over her, and we all rejoiced in the days that she seemed to have a good amount of her old energy.  She was slowing generally, wanting to walk less and rest more, but still wanted to come to work, still needed to greet everyone and still didn't want to let Beth out of her sight.

Things changed abruptly and it was clear, all during that restless last night, that the time had come when she needed to leave.  In the morning, when Beth asked if she wanted to go to work, she still jumped up, eager to do her job, and then lay back down, remembering her weariness.  She wagged her tail when Carolyn, her favorite vet, came in the room, and she left this life held in the arms of the person she loved the best.

I am absolutely sure that she is dancing on four legs, cavorting with her first human mom and waiting, doggy smile in place, for the moment she gets to greet her last one.

The Flight Attendant's Story

Carolyn and I traveled to Arizona this month.  We took the pups with us and, as always, they charmed everyone they met, including the flight attendants on every airplane.  Because they work as service animals for me, they can ride together and they can ride on our laps instead of under the seats.  I do a lot of explaining about how it is that Zuza can know that my blood sugar is falling too fast and what Lukas would do if I lost consciousness. 

On our last flight coming home, one attendant was particularly interested.  Zuza was being her perfect traveller self and sleeping soundly, while Lukas was being himself, fidgeting and flirting with anyone who spoke to him.  So, when the flight attendant offered me water, it was Lukas who accepted it with his neck stretched out just as far as it could possibly be stretched.  She melted, and said how very much she loved animals.

When we were deplaning--and we were the last ones to do so--she came and told us this story.  She has a cat that she loves immensely, and last year was very confused by his behavior.  She was lying on her left side, on the bed, with her head propped up on her hand and inviting the cat to hop up next to her for a snuggle.  He hopped up, but would not come close, only hissed at her and growled and stared in the direction of her left breast.  She could feel something under under her and thought that it was one of those little furry mouse toys that every cat in the world (and my dog, Zuza) loves.  Maybe that was what he wanted--although it was an odd reaction from his usual loving self.  So she reached under her, and instead of a toy, she found a lump. A big lump.  And yes, it was malignant.  And until the day that she had it removed, her cat would not let her hold him up to her chest.  As soon as the cancer was gone, he reverted to his snuggling self.  He knew that the cancer was there, and that it was wrong.  She said, "He saved my life."

They are so much wiser than we can know.

Lily and Mischief

I just mentioned these guys on the Briar Patch Facebook page, and then I knew I had to say a few words about them.  Lily, I have written about.  She has had a reoccurrence of her cancer, and has had a 2nd surgery to remove a tumor that formed right on the incision site from her amputation.  But, she is still an absolute wonder, joyously announces every arrival to "her" office at Hands On Physical Therapy, and makes certain that everyone feels welcome.  She really is capable of more joy that any other dog I have known.  We are all just holding our collective breaths that she will beat the odds and be with us for several more years.

Her brother Mischief is a great cat, mellow and sweet and was certain, right from the moment of his adoption, that he was sent there to be Lily's friend.  It took Lily a little while to accept that idea perfectly comfortably, but as you can see from the photo, they have evolved into a mutually trusting little yin/yang understanding.

Y'know, the world is a frightening place out there.   I can't even listen to the news anymore because I am afraid the whole country is being taken over by rejects from the old Jerry Springer show.  And then I reflect on the innocent creatures I know, the ones who are so wise, the ones who cushion my heart in their own goodness and I can sally forth into battle once more.

Go hug a pet tonight, everybody.

Heart lifting, heart breaking...

This week has been a monumentally emotional week.  I admit that I am weary as I write this, mostly because our own cat, Minuet, is missing and we are just heartbroken about it.  I've been making phone calls and posters today, so her sweet face is on my mind.  Here she is, being helpful as is her wont.  We have called her "The Assistant" since she was a kitten when she would pin her siblings down to wash them just like her Mama did.  Since then, she's helped the humans with every task--paperwork, laundry, house cleaning, plumbing, decorating.  Oh, and salad preparation.  She loves lettuce and will pilfer salad bowls and even bags of lettuce from the store.  She was just a baby when I joined Carolyn, so she is special for so many reasons.

There were 3 other pets who touched my heart in a big way this week; I'll only mention one here right now as she has already been dubbed a pirate.  Lily, the wonder dog, underwent surgery again as another tumor appeared on the incision site for her leg amputation.  I was so hoping that she would be done with big surgeries after the last one.  Heartbreaking to see her shaved and cut again, bandaged afterward just like she was after the amputation.  But heart lifting to see her two days later, on the job at the physical therapy office, joyfully greeting clients, wearing a pretty pink sweater instead of a bandage.  This may be the happiest, most fulfilled dog I have ever known.

Keep them all in your hearts and send out good thoughts for all of the pirates.

correction

okay, i stand (or sit) corrected.  there weren't any dogs or cats lost at PETCO.  there were guinea pigs, hamsters, birds, fish and reptiles.  and i have read that the 20 employees are "pretty devastated".  i have to admit that i will probably sleep better without pictures of drowned kittens and puppies in my head, but if i were an owner of rodents or the other victims, i would not feel any real relief.  i just feel so strongly our responsibility to all of these creatures.  it's like going to a really bad zoo.  how can you be unaffected by that?

so, my apologies for any undue distress i might have caused, and my condolences to all lovers of littler animals than my dog.  okay, some guinea pigs are bigger, so my condolences to you guys, too.

Boycotting Petco

Okay, pretty radical for this blog about loving animals, hey?  (That, by the way is Sheboyganese, although I should have said "once hey" at the end.  Don't ask why.)

For those of you who live too far away for local news let me explain.  In the recent flooding here, some towns really did get slammed.  Johnson City, near Binghamton, about 40 miles south of us was one of them.  People evacuated.  So did many businesses, Petco amongst the ones where employees left, and therefore no one was hurt.  Except for the 100 animals who were left locked in their cages to drown.  Now, I admit that I am a dog and cat bigot, and it is those that break my heart when I think of them, terrified and trapped, as the flood waters move slowly in.  But there were others, just as worthy of life, depending on the kindness of humans to keep them safe--hamsters and mice and reptiles and, I believe, birds.  And all of them died.  Is this the fault of the entire company? Yes.  The CEO made a statement that the local managers were not familiar with local flooding and so did not know that it would be so bad.  They didn't stay in the store, though, and they didn't make any plans to evacuate the animals should it become necessary.  If they would have asked any of the locals who were around for the floods of 1972, those locals could have told them just how deadly it could be.  And if they were not trained well enough to show compassion in a crisis, how much true compassion is a part of their everyday dealings with the creatures in their care?

And that's why I'm not buying from Petco anymore.  I know it was a tragic accident, but even accidents have consequences, just ask the pirates. 

jack and other things

i cannot believe how long it has been since i wrote last.  so, the most important thing, blogwise, is that my favorite pirate has found a home.  jack has a human dad and a feline sibling named "morgan".  i have not seen him since he was adopted, but i had one progress report and i choose to believe that he is riotously happy.  the odds are good that i am not just delusional.

the other important fact is that i had hand surgery last week and am stuck operating with one hand.  more time available, less dexterity.  hand surgery was because i have a lot of arthritis and no cartilege in some joints,especially in my left thumb joints.  so, no massage work for a couple of months and a limited number of upper case letters when i write.  i could get used to that.  sort of e e cummings-ish.

they removed a bone in my hand, drilled holes in a couple of more bones in the back of my hand, threaded a "harvested" tendon thru the bones and attached the other end to the front of my hand.  both creepy and cool, simultaniously.  oh yeah, they harvested the tendon from me; no cadaverous parts involved.  just for the record-- always demand the really good drugs.  mine were sorely lacking the first couple of days and i was willing to gnaw my arm off.  much better now, i can even use my fingers a little.  they did not give me a purple cast, but my doctor did give me the purple marker they used to write on me.  they also injected cortisone into my right hand while i was out.  (its the only way to have your fingers injected-completely painless)

so here i am with a lot more time on my hand(s), and very little ambition.  i do, however, have lots of reading.  i want to suggest a book that my friend sharon gave me: unsaid, by neil abramson.  it is so well written and so very real in the world in which i find myself.  i have been doing a lot of mcreading, and this very serious book raised the bar for me, but also validated the time and care i give to all the furry people in my life.  i am so proud of the work that carolyn does at briar patch, and i am aware that one of the things that i think she does well is how she handles the death of her patients.  the euthanasias are never easy, but she makes the experience one that is gentle and sweet and, while i would never say that it was good, exactly, i would also not say it was bad.  painful, yes, but profound.  healing.  the book looks at this, as well as looking at the quality of life for all of us living and breathing on this earth, and offers a sort of benediction.

and on that note, i'm going to take my wounded self and go to bed.

Lily

Lily should be "Lily the Wonder Dog", or something that shows her indomitable spirit.  Lily is my best friend's dog.  (And that's a whole other blog, defining "best friend" in middle age".)  Just like Zuza goes to work with me, Lily goes to work with her Mom, with whom I share the office.  Lily has a job there, she is the doorbell, the official greeter, the keep clients happy in the waiting room person.  She absolutely, fluffy head over heels, there is no one as wonderful as you, loves her Mom. She's bouncy and egalitarian and came to her mom  at about age 6, as a previously loved little dog.  She's 10 now, looks--I don't know--young, the picture of health.

I started writing this at two months ago.  It is, unabashedly, a happy ending.  First, Lily was a a rescue dog.  She was a dog that belonged first to a woman who suffered, and then died, from cancer.  The husband was not so happy with a this left-over dog from his wife, and found someone who could take over--first a concerned citizen, and then, a dog person who needed a new dog.

So there she was, Lily, an incredibly happy dog who became the love-at-first-sight dog of a woman--and family--who needed a dog to take the place of a couple of other dogs who died from different cancers a few years earlier.   She looks like a Bichon Frise.  She isn't; she's an unlikely mix of a Schnauzer, a Cocker and a Llasa Apso.  And she's happy...especially all the time that Beth is near, but also when she can be at her job, greeting everyone at work.

Then she had a weird growth on her elbow that turned out to be malignant.  Agony for the humans who love her and an itchy annoyance to her. That resulted in an amputation of her right foreleg, including her shoulder blade.  It was hard to watch her go through it all.  We took her home with us the night after her surgery.  She was so miserable without Beth  and so vocal about it.  However, she made a lasting friend in Lukas who was terribly concerned about her.  He stayed by the side of her crate, poking his nose in through the bars to kiss her face, or wash her ears or otherwise comfort her.  When he was eating his dinner and she began whimpering again, he left it half-finished to sit by her, and we had to move a bed next to her crate so that he could stay there to nurse her. (Zuza and the cats finished off his food when we weren't watching.) 

During the night we got up to give her medication and take her out, and then in the morning, after another trip outside--yes, she was walking 3-legged--we took turns lying on the floor with her while the other one of us could shower and get ready for work.  I was stretched out next to her with my arm around her when Luke came running up, trying lick all of the places that were shaved.  When I convinced him that licking the pain patch was a bad idea, he snuggled down between us, pressed up against her side.  I'm not even sure she noticed, but I certainly felt comforted.

She went home that night, running eagerly to Beth at the hospital, and did have some rough moments in the following week.  But she wanted to run up and down the stairs in the house, and she wanted to be with her beloved friends.  One funny thing that happened as a result of all of this is that she isn't nearly so anxious when she comes to Briar Patch.  You'd think waking up without a leg would make you feel kinda iffy about a place, but it seems that she focuses on the bright side.  Hmmmm.  Life lesson alert.

We had one more scare about a month after her surgery when Beth discovered a suspicious lump at her incision site.  They aspirated it, and after looking at in-house Carolyn was pretty sure that it was just a lymph node that had sort of migrated.  We sent it to an outside lab, and the good news is that she was right. Lily got a clean bill of health.

So, things are unabashedly gleeful.  Lily has returned to her incredibly happy self.  She's even managed to hop up on people's laps again when they are in the waiting room at the office.  She thinks about it a little more than before, but she does it.

And this time, I have visual aids!  Go to YouTube and search for Lilly.dv.  Beth's son Rowan made a wonderful video about her.  (One of my clients said, "Hey, isn't he too young to know that music?"  You'll see what I mean.  Apparently he is a master of the classics, as well as a youthful videographer.)

Rock on, Lily!