paws crossed

The vet called Saturday morning. They were concerned. They couldn't get TheDog to eat in ICU. And she still wasn't eating more than a nibble when we went to visit Friday night.

The vet suggested we try at home. For 24 hours. To see if being there was depressing her. To see if she'd be more comfortable at home.

I went to pick her up. The vet was not optimistic that we could get her to eat for us. She told us the words you never want to hear, Just try to make her comfortable.

I got her home and settled. Tried to get her to eat. To drink water. Desperate to make her better, not just comfortable. She wanted none of it.

My sister and her husband came over, my parents drove up. I got e-mails and calls from so many people, worried about her. Praying for her. Fingers crossed. Paws crossed.

Finally just before Grandpa had to leave to take care of his own furry critters, she ate some of the turkey burger he bought for her. Then some of the bun. And a little more turkey and rice. And water.

And she's looking less doped up by the pain meds. And more happy to see everyone. But I'm trying not to get my hopes up too high, since we still haven't heard about the biopsies.

But I'm still praying and wishing and hoping against hope.

Fingers and paws still crossed.

hoping against hope

We heard a dog trotting down the hall as we awaited TheDog to join us in the exam room. The door opened and it was her. Looking very happy.

So happy to see my mom and I, she kissed my hand, which she hadn't had the energy to do in a couple days. So happy to go outside to use the doggie facilities. So happy to go home that when she sat in protest as we tried to take her back inside, my heart broke a little.

I'm her mom. I'm supposed to protect her. Supposed to make her feel better. But she's always been the one protecting me, making me feel better. She's my Angel Bear.

Yesterday, after she'd refused to drink anything, I took her back to the vet. They did an ultrasound. And saw a mass. In her stomach.

My sister met me yesterday afternoon to meet with the surgeon, to discuss our options. We decided to go ahead with the surgery. In case they could easily remove the mass.

I sat with her most of the day yesterday, when she wasn't hooked up to the IV to try and make a dent in her dehydration. My mom, sister, brother-in-law and I all returned last night with my sister's dog for a nice long visit.

This morning my mom and I went to visit before the surgery. She looked good. So good I wanted to take her home, to let her have her wish of not going back into that building.

But I knew I'd never forgive myself if they could remove the mass and I didn't let them try.

We waited for news outside the vets office. Praying she would be alright. That things would turn out well. The call came as we were sitting on a bench talking of how strong she is, how stubborn. How many times she's already beat the vets doomsday prognoses for her.

The surgeon was very matter-of-fact, although the tone in her voice gave away the gravity of the news before she said what she needed to tell me. The mass is where it couldn't be removed without a good possibility of serious complications. So they took a biopsy of the mass and her liver, which looked a little abnormal. Then they just closed her back up.

We, of course, stayed to see her when she woke up. She was very groggy. So much worse than a few hours before. And for what? I don't know.

We went back tonight. She hadn't improved much. I felt horrible, my fault that she was worse. Surgery that solved nothing, only made her feel worse.

I can't quite shake the feeling that I hurt her more. Caused her more pain. As we were leaving, I kissed her goodbye, and told her I was sorry. She gave me a few kisses in return, almost as if to say it's alright, she understands. She made me feel better, as she always does.

She's my baby. I am still hoping against hope for a miracle. I can't even imagine what I'll do if one doesn't happen.

has to get better

The last two weeks have not been good in other areas. But last night things went to terrible where it really matters.

Up all night with TheDog. After debating about what she could have eaten. Nothing. About if she could just have a bug. Doesn't appear to be so. After my boss getting mad about it, I took her in this morning.

They did tests. Found nothing concrete. I'm just to watch her. If she doesn't get better, she goes back.

It's looking like we're going back. But I'm praying she has a miraculous recovery soon.

I can handle a lot. Not this. She just has to get better.

just want to thank you

Such a crazy week. Work. Work that's not work. And a very interesting course.

But amidst the hectic pace, I made time to do one thing that always makes me feel like, well, me. And I did it three nights in a row.

The three nights in a row makes everyone thinks I'm crazy. And I am a little. Alright, a lot.

But Kevin, James and Chris sure know how to make a girl's heart skip a beat. Melting to the sounds of their voices.

I can't pick a favorite. Not even based on the my company. My fantastic "date" the first two nights, and many friends tonight. They were all too amazing.

So, thank you Keb' Mo, James Taylor and Chris Isaak. Thank you for sharing your talent this week.

I needed a little live music fix. Ah, who am I kidding? I needed a lot of live music fix. So, thanks.