I'm In Trouble

I had a startling revelation the other day. Of course, it was something that was ridiculously obvious to everyone even vaguely close to me, but nevertheless...

I realized that I was screwed. Totally, completely. That I was so fervently attached to a creature who has every intention of dying before me. Not that I can say he tricked me. The information was blatantly there, for anyone to see. I even read up on it, for crying out loud. I cannot cry foul.

So why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we purchase/adopt/get tricked into owning a pet, whose life expectancy (unless you're 97 and sickly) is never going to surpass ours.

Anyways, I'm in trouble. Because I can't imagine life without Frank, and yet it just dawned on me, someday such a life will be a fact. I should have seen the signs: when I would talk about cremation vs burial, and start with "if anything ever happens to Frank..." and Rich would gently interject, "WHEN. When something happens to Frank." But would I listen? Denial, friends. It's not just a river in Egypt.

So Frank has had a bothersome toe for about a month. I took him to the vet. They examined him, took samples, said it didn't look infected, and prescribed Epsom salts soaks and keeping it clean. After a couple weeks of that, it looked worse. Antibiotics were prescribed, and it was bandaged to keep his tongue off it. Two days of antibiotics, I noticed a large lump the size of a lime in his throat (cue a similar sized lump in my throat, as I tried to stay calm and phone Lori, my lifetime friend - and veterinarian clinical worker, incredibly comforting). She invited us over to her house for an inspection.

Fast forward a couple days - Frank and I attend the clinic, where they stick a long needle into his throat FOUR TIMES, and he patiently stands for it. They also agree that the toe isn't getting better, so next step is scheduled for the following morning: surgery. Not the amputation I had feared, but a extraction of the growth and hopefully a new wound to promote healing. While he was conked out, they'd take a look at the lump.

The next morning, I abandon him (in his eyes, and I'm sure, in his heart) to Lori, and flee. An hour later, I get a call while in the grocery store, picking up girls' sports socks that will fit his paw perfectly. It's Lori, and it's bad news. The tumour (which is what the lump is now called, no announcement made), is a cancerous thyroid carcinoma, the kind that spreads like crazy, and can wrap around his windpipe, jugular, and reach down into his guts and his lungs. Take it out, I say.

I spend the next few minutes trying to pay for raspberries, dog treats and girls' tube socks with a frozen face, and then flee to my brother's log cabin. I have to wake him up, but he's still surprisingly quick on the sympathy wagon. Three cups of tea later, the talk moves to movies, our mother, and Denis Leary. I get a call from Lori.

Frank is waking up, the tumour was free moving (NOT rooted), and the vet performing the surgery was thrilled that we found this tumour, at this stage, and is extremely happy about his chances. She said it could not have been better timing for removal - no chemo necessary. Take that, tumour. Eat shit, tumour! Once it was all over, and Frank was home again...drugged, shaved, stitched and bloody, but home, and whole - that's when it hit me. I'm in trouble. Oh, Frank. Stay forever. XO

My Hero

So, as you know I recently had a baby. A 1,200 pound baby named Lucy. Actually, she's not a baby, she's four years old. But I love her so much.



I was lucky enough to 'find' her at a riding stable near me (well, about a 5-hour drive from me, but that's OK). I say 'find' because actually I was carefully matched to her, after detailing my personal horse experience and what sort of horse I wanted, about four months ago. I was dealing with Rainbow Valley Riding Centre in Springwater, Ontario. The owner, Mandy Carson, is an experienced horseperson, instructor, and so much more. She rescues horses from slaughterhouses and inadequate homes, brings them home to her gorgeous farm, teaches them to trust again, and then trains them to move forward in their life journey. She is an incredible woman - I have the utmost respect and admiration for her. Here is a video showing the latest horse she rescued, "Lucky".



There are so many things that I admire about Mandy - not the least is the fortitude she must have, to be able to face going into those sale barns and staying objective enough to save the ones she can. She is a remarkable mix of common sense and unending compassion. If I won the lottery, I'd give her half. Honestly, if I won $50 million, she'd probably get more than half - I don't need that much to make me happy, and she has the sense and the skills to do what I can only dream of: rescue and rehabilitate these horses. I'd probably donate the money and just ask to work there for the rest of my life.

Three cheers for Mandy!!

Newest Addition to the Family

Introducing...Lucille Brown (Lucy)!



We took a five hour drive up to Barrie last weekend to meet her, and it was love!







She was not a fan of backing out of the trailer, but we weren't in any hurry!





Checking out her new home!

Resolutions

I don't do resolutions, or rather, I do them, but all year long. But this year it seems little vows keep entering my head, and while I'm reluctant to call them 'resolutions', I do feel that I'm promising things to myself.

I think the 'making changes' mindset has more to do with the fact that I'm starting a new job, than starting a new year. Every time I start a new job, I get the same feeling as starting a new school term - remember those days? Cooler weather, new shoes, fresh, unblemished books? Oh, the possibilities seemed endless. You could be anything. I find a new job feels like that. Plus, it's a great excuse to buy new clothes:





Ok. ok, these are hardly office shoes, but...but...maybe there'll be casual Fridays. And c'mon - PURPLE Keds? Surely I deserve some reward for winning the job competition?

I think this new job really brings along the anticipation of a new school year, because it's on campus at a distinguished university. So, that feeling abounds. Crossing the campus grounds, walking between the old limestone buildings, hearing words like faculty and dissertation, how can your heart not flutter a bit? I guess learning has always been seductive to me.

So, here's my New Job Resolutions:

1) My lunch hour will be just that: MINE. I will not run errands, buy groceries, pay bills. I will find an empty window sill, or in nicer weather, a tree on campus, and read whatever book is calling my name.

2) I will be more social. Don't get me wrong, I'm quite happy with my hermit lifestyle. But that could become a problem - when solitude becomes more attractive than company. I want to interact, to engage, to learn some. I think this new job will provide the colleagues to make that possible - enjoyable even.

3) I will love my dog more. "HA!" I hear my husband say. "How? Set an alarm to tell him you love him at midnight?" It's true, I shower him with love. But he turned 7 on January 2nd, and in Great Dane years, that's senior citizen. Gotta make those moments count. Which leads to...




4) Walk more. There is an amazing trail only a 5 minutes' drive from my house. When I pile the dogs into my car, and turn left out of the driveway, they go ballistic. The hike usually takes us about an hour, or a bit more. It could take 10 hours, it's so sprawling and quiet - you never run out of trees. My dog would rather that, than any treat in the world. I could learn from that. And I will - this year, I will be piling us into the car more regularly, and commuting with nature, to appease my solitary side, while getting exercise and spoiling my dogs, all at once.




I guess that's it. Not a Top Ten list, or anything, but I think four is enough, for someone who normally doesn't even make a list. Here we go!

xo