letting go

i had every intention of posting new photos of the peach from easter, sporting her darling dress and award winning charm. or, adding a less cynical list of things i wish i had been told years ago...that last post was clearly a cry for needed sleep. but rather, i am posting today to let all of you know that our beloved abraham has bone cancer. seeing it written there in size 12 boring font does not seem to convey what im trying to communicate. it should be bold, in caps with at least a size 42 font. and yet, that wouldnt make it any different. at least not to me and probably not to you. see, the world is pretty much divided into two types of people with several sub categories of crazies and extremes on each side. you have the me type that adores animals, particularly dogs and considers them people with fur. not real people of course, afterall, real people complain about nothing, have unrealistic expectations of how life should be, lie, cheat, steal, and judge one another. then there is the other type, lovely people in their own right, who occasionally acknowledge the substantial worth of a pet, but primarily think of them as just that, a pet. certainly not the part of the family that the me type regards them. if you are the second type, dont waste your time reading this. skip onto some other site and enjoy. you will not understand what i am trying to convey and you may find yourself questioning my state of mind. dont bother with that, just know i am perfectly sane and suffering real grief over this recent news.

yesterday, i took abe to the vet to have a sprained hock that just wouldnt heal looked at again. anticipating some pain killers and perhaps a wrapped leg, i promised abe that as soon as he was better, we would spend some quality time together like we used to. no little sister following us around, just a day at the park dreaming of what could happen if we actually got closer to the geese. i reassured him that he was not going to feel as bad as he did at that moment because pain killers are a beautiful thing and clearly he just needed to let his leg heal. and yet, within moments of the vet feeling his leg, she used phrases and knives like "very concerned", "tumor", and "bone cancer". i let him follow me to radiation and retreated to a waiting room with well meaning, concerned receptionists who offered kleenex and comfort to my quivering soul. i began to think of him as a puppy, just two weeks old laying in my palm with his tongue sticking out and eyes just opened. remembering the gift of "family" he gave to pat and i. while lots of people have babies in the first couple of years, we were beyond content to welcome abraham into our lives and really feel like a family. years later, the blessing of georgia would add a new blissful dynamic, but abe truly laid the family foundation much to our suprise.

so i waited. i paced on a tile floor and frantically tried to reach pat and then my mom, who both wept with me. the vet came out and showed me the xrays which look just as familiar as the greek alphabet. i struggled to make sense of the "clear" differences between his healthy and sick leg. i tried to see the gray area "consistent" with cancer and grasp what she was telling me. but the reality is, i dont see it, i dont understand it and im wondering if she could be wrong. of course if she is wrong, wouldnt he be better and not exponentially worse than he was a week ago? i sat down and tried to be as stoic as i could. who was i kidding? i adore this dog. he is a part of our family and not just the part that takes up space on the floor. the part that makes our home, ever changing, the same. regardless of where we are, abe is the one part of our life that stays the same. always agreeable, always kind, always there.

i was a mess as i heard her suggestions and explanations as to why there are no good options. ordinarily, they would do an amputation for smaller dogs, but a 3 legged great dane is not really feasible. then theres the chemo option which would give us an extra month at most, but without the ability to remove the leg that has the cancer, chemo would only prolong the inevitable. our best option is to manage his pain by any and all means possible for the next week or so until it is clear that he is uncomfortable. at that time, we will let him go. even acknowledging that future brings to surface the tears that had spent the better part of 20 minutes at bay. we spent last night with him on the floor, pat sleeping by him. he has had beef tips with gravy and steak, toast, chicken and cheese will round out his menu for the next week. he is surrounded by us and pictures of his best friend amber. he knows is loved and im sure is wondering why we cant seem to dry it up and smile for him. last night through tears, pat said "you know what im thankful for?" the question lends itself to a multitude of answers...we have a tremendous amount of things to be thankful for...i asked him "what?" and he said "that this is not you or georgia". of course. how true that while we are suffering, there are so many grieving for their children. even as one who cant imagine my life without our beloved abe, i am keenly aware of the difference and overwhelmed with gratitude that this is afterall, our dog and not our baby girl. perspective is a refreshing and reassuring thing. however, as reassured as i feel, i cannot seem to get it together for more than a few minutes and still feel like my heart is somewhere on the floor of that vet clinic. it doesnt help that georgias favorite word and friend is "dog" and she stands vigil at the gate hoping for a chance to escape to him for her daily climb.

there will be another post in the future recapping so many fond and wonderful things about our abe, but today this is all i can manage. thank you for your prayers.