In the Silence Now

In the silence now there is the joy of memory and the blessing of hope.


I discovered last week that I am no longer able to post youtube links, which is sad for me since I had been saving a few things to post when my little bunny finally left. Music has always been such a large part of my life,and through me, I think also Lila's. I have to be careful right now not to play the sad things too much. yesterday afternoon I played Song for Humanity by Carlos Nakai and Peter Kater - New Age, but stunningly beautiful - and was so overwhelmed with grief I could hardly speak. I know that active grieving is helpful, necessary, that without it we simply will never heal. I read Elizabeth Kubler-Ross in the mornings and it helps. But I also have to think of my poor little man, who is so sad, so deeply affected, it's beyond the pale of what I can stand to see him miss her like this. I know we all have to try to adjust. I just want to spare him the sound of my anguish, as much as I can. I find giving myself emotional rest-periods where I play more upbeat music or simply watch a good film is very helpful, for us both.

I've set up a memorial table for my little bunny, with her pictures, a large white beeswax candle, white flowers, her favourite toys, and my framed diploma from Cynology College. That last may seem a bit odd, but I would never have received it - would never have studied canine natural health and nutrition to this extent, without Lila. She brought me to this work, and to TTouch, and of course, to so much more.

How was it I depended so greatly on her but often didn't even notice it? I think that her love and strength had just become a part of me, of who I am, like the feel of her silky head or the great ruff of fur around her neck is so imprinted on my senses, I can still feel her - I mean I can physically feel her near - and suspect I always will.

Oh how I wish I'd taken time for a few more of her beloved bellyrubs.
Oh how I wish I had been better able to keep Danny from ripping into her toys like he did.

I always expected Lila to understand, good little spirit that she was and is.

Yes, I am experiencing regret, for a dog everyone says I was beyond good to - and, I know I was good to her. I know how deep my love is for her and I know SHE knew it. I also accept that life is never perfect, that I have been struggling greatly this past year with health, money problems, and bringing up Daniel, who is very demanding and high energy. In wanting life to have been perfect for Lila I can't take the hard facts out of the equation - I have problems like everyone else and things are rarely "perfect".

But in the shocking reality of never seeing her again, the mind tunnels backwards into the what ifs. I know she would have died much earlier if it hadn't been for me. I know she had a life full of love, care and respect, one that few dogs, even loved ones, ever enjoy. I know her death was a passage as filled with love and tenderness as anyone of us could ever wish for.
But still, I find ways to look backward and fault myself.

Is this tendency representative of some internal demon I need to overcome, as pop psychology would no doubt insist, or a spiritual truth to be cherished, examined, and cultivated? In our disposable Dr. Phil world we think all problems and pains are thinsg to medicate or fix, asap, but for me, there is always something more.
There are many more things I want to say here - about my girl, about her last days, about what we (me and Dan) are feeling and experiencing now...but I am still physically weakened and awash with sadness, that blunts my ability to both think and communicate.

Right now, I am working through these regrets and listening deeply, listening to that voice which tells me what to do next, because it's the very best part of me. That one voice I trust. That voice she opened my heart to hearing.
And she has indeed left me with issues to examine, things to consider, pathways that lead to the betterment of my own spirit. How often do we really have an angel by our side for 13 years? How often do we allow love to so transform us we barely recognize ourselves?
There is more sadness than words can say - and there are things to be learned and addressed. But there is gratitude, love, joy, tenderness - laughter - and I know, in time, I will get there fully again.

Grace and Grit

Here is what I wrote to my yahoogroup,and I can barely find the energy to rewrite it so although most readers here will have read this, I am just so fatigued right now it's hard to be creative.

Lila died at about 8:15 this morning, surrounded by me, Danny, her beloved
Dad Alex, the gentle and sensitive care of Frances Dugan our local vet, and
the love and prayers of everyone here, which we felt to the core of our
beings. It was a sweet, tender, love-filled passing, much like Lila herself.. Although my heart is completely shattered I know I gave her everything in
this life I could, and that this release was my final - and hardest - gift.
She had a reasonably comfortable, if very drugged night, and was calm and
steady when the sedative came. A few minutes later, Frances gave her just a
little sp, and Lila raised her head, looked straight at Frances, and died.
It took only a very little drug for thet sweet, loving and beautiful heart
to let go and stop beating. She died as gently as a leaf falling softly from
a tree in autumn, carried back to the source with delicacy and grace.


I want to thank every person here who has written on my blog, on this group
or at home and try to convey how muhc your words, prayers, candles and love
have meant to me. I truly do not know what to do with this enormous hole in
my heart and life but I have Dan, I have Luke and Lila's cherished memories
and I have a future to care for so I will find a way. Thank you all from the
bottom of my heart.
I am doing a form of sitting shiva for the next week, so I may be scarce,
but know that I am here and your love and understanding has meant the world
to all of us, perhaps most of all, to lila.
Anything that helped her Mom was so incredibly important to her.

Lila was a beautiful spirit if God ever put breath in one.It was my absolute
honour, privilege and joy to have shared my life with for all these years.

Mommy love Lila - so much love Lila.
Always and forever.
C

My Darling Lila - Dec 21 ,1994 - May 26, 2008

Now the journey of this life has reached its end
And since I cannot go with you
As you leave this world we have shared
You must go forward now, for a time, alone.
I send this prayer to the Creator who brought you to me
To teach, strengthen, love and comfort my human soul
I ask that you be guided on your journey now
through what will lie ahead.

My there be no fear for you Angel Heart
May you feel my love with you always
May you feel my gratitude and love as a cloak around you to keep you warm,
As you live in the mansion of my heart forever

O Creator, O Giver of LIfe and Bringer-In of Death
Protect my darling as she sinks into the deep and primordial sleep
As she approaches the Diamond Light of Heaven
Be a refuge to my darling, my beloved.
Keep her safe from all fear.
Protect her, defend her
Seize her within the endless ocean of your compassion,
Let her rest there in perfection,
And if it is in the best interest of all
If I am worthy and the circumstances allow,
Let her come to me in this life again
That I may know her, love her, and walk a while in joy
once again.


With deepest love
Mom

Small and Large, the things we notice

Last night; I drank a couple too many beers.Should't do that; the lines blur and I can't hold the anguish in anymore.
Yesterday: finally got all the hummingbird feeders up.
Mowed the lawn in my barefeet, tears streaming down my face. The cherry blossoms tore a hole in my arm, I welcomed the physical pain to carry me from this emotional hell.
Made dinner with Danny beside me, my fingers slipping bits of turkey and cheese into his soft mouth, my heart exploded all around us.
Feeding him I feel like the alchemical pelican tearing out her own flesh for her children.
For you, son - anything.

Danny keep me strong. No wait - I need to be strong for you.

Alex made a fondue at 10 pm and despite everything I know about my ability to eat "bad food" late at night,I ate some. My heart pounded for 3 hours.
Despite all that, Dan and I slept well, once we finally made it up to bed, curled up together like two peas in a pod.
God sent me this dog, I know He/She did. He's like no other dog...as was Luke,as is Lila.


It's a sweet, mild, gentle, sun filled day.

I am cooking like a fiend; beef/turkey/sardine and sweet potato dogfood; roast lamb with chardonnay, thyme and new potatoes for my guests, apple pan-cake (I love mixing homey traditional foods with chi chi nouvelle) portobello mushrooms in balsamic vinaigrette over mesclun...asparagus with pine nuts..keep me busy O Lord, lest I fall to pieces right here and now.
I cooked for 6 months straight after Albert was killed. I also lost a full semester at University. What did I know then about dealing with sorrow?


Earlier,I watched Cor St through eyes reddened and swollen...I hope he sound of the theme music comforted her as she has heard it all her life every Sunday, come what may.

Lila and Dan sleep as one beside meas I watch.

Last night I fell asleep beside her, and I had this amazing series of dreams - vignettes from the past...Lila and I making Qabalahs in the sand out of round stones, in the sandpit near our first home.Running in the sand near our house in NS...images over and over and always this sense that she misses Luke so much her heart cannot stand it.
When she was little - well, for her first three years - it was just she and me. I was lonely and angry and she was my solace and joy in this life. We wandered daily through the streams and forests of West Quebec - we watched the stars at night and looked at the moon, listened to the swamp sounds. We learned together and did TTouch and cooked wonderful meals for human and dog, slept by the fire in deep winter and laughed with the blue jays and flycatchers every spring.
Life was so so good ...not easy, but so good..

When Luke came she opened her noble heart so readily. Those were difficult, magical, life-loving days. She withstood this tyrannical, curmudgeonly, uterly adorable little beastie like he was a child of her own womb. In the years that followed they two were joined in a way I thik I may never see again, in human life or canine.


Now I see her where she is and say...I keep saying ..Bo...we can fix this...but I know we cannot.

I wake knowing it was not my dreams, but hers, I was remembering.


Through the depths of the pain I thank the Creator I can say goodbye so consciously and pray so deeply for her to return only to me or not at all.
What guarantees do we have? None at all, and thats why we lie to ourslves so deeply and with such confidence. All I can do is send forth love, carry it with you where you go, my little Bunny.



Mommy loves Lila - so much love Lila.

Danny loves Lila

Send Out Love

And so, my darling Lila, we have reached the end, no matter how bravely and passionately we've struggled and fought. And so, as I told you this morning, I am so heart-bound to you, my soul and yours so intertwined, that I can barely rememebr the person I was for 37 years before we met. To even think that I lived all those years without you is so strange. It's so much like thinking that now, soon, tomorrow or Monday, I will never see you in this form again.

Will you remember how I always had to slide my hand beneath you while we slept, the weight of your body grounding and comforting me?
I will always remember that.


There are so many stories, but I will tell them later, when I have more time to spend with words.



Meditating on love a few days ago, I realized something. That what dogs really teach us is to step outside of the ego, and live as a river flows, the great unfolding, the here and now. And to accept all and let love flow. Working through Lila's dying, and the myriad feelings it all brings up in me, a strange sort of softness came through to me all at once, regarding people in my life who have harmed me - my father, friends I have needed so desparately who denied me help, anger at those who label my brother a "junkie", and so on. I just let go of all the anger and recrimination and I felt blessing flowing out from me so easily and naturally. And it was all so liberating. I sat in the woods with Daniel and acknowledged my pain, that Lila is dying. But then I acknowledged the massive gifts she has brought me and I felt such love. I released the anger I feel at others and I let forgiveness and love just flow. I hope my father survives his operation, I hope my friend who withdrew her help really finds the God she seems to seek, I hope my Mother...finds something akin to peace. At the end of the day, or a life, we are alone with how good and kind we have been able to be. I am not an unkind person, and possibly closer to good than to evil, but I have so far to go. Lila brought me a long way toward contact with my own divinity. She opened gates of love inside me and showed me not to be distrusting of myself, not brittle and hard edged, she showed me that pain is worth it if we've had all this joy. I need to let her go at the same time I let the anger and recrimination of those who have harmed me go too.


I have felt so much lighter, freer, and accepting since this epiphany it cannot be expressed.


Here are my thoughts about love - wherever you find it, in whatever way shapes your being, daily life, and mends your soul; allow it to be a beautiful thing. Never cheapen the love you have by trying to wield it as a weapon to hurt another being. Pray for those who are in pain. Pray the unhappy can be healed and the damaged can be loved into wellness, whether it be from a friend, a lover, a dog or cat, or God/dess. What you send out comes back, it always does. Take the love you have, that you feel, and share it. If you are blessed by love, ACT like a person blessed by love. BE KIND. BE GENEROUS.
Send it out. Send it out. Pay it forward.

"Send Out Love

Prayer is the act and presence of sending this light from the bountifulness of your love to other people to heal, free, and bless them. Where there is love in your life, you should share it spiritually with those who are pushed to the very edge of life. There is a very lovely idea in the Celtic tradition that if you send goodness out from yourself, it will come back to you multiplied ten thousand times. In the kingdom of love there is no competition; there is no possessiveness or control. The more love you give away, the more love you will have."
— Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom
John O'Donohue

Lila does not want to go.Yesterday I summoned all my strength and called Frances to come by at about 8 pm. Lila had been uncomfortable, not eating, and has developed a secondary sinus infection that means I need to swab her nostrils hourly and use ointment to help keep her breathing clear. She has weakened a fair bit and is sleeping most of the time. I have seen a marked decline in quality of life although her cognition is very sharp and her gaze as direct and alert as ever. I know she is not in great pain and I know she does not want to leave, but I ask myself, what am I waiting for? For the pain to get unmanageable? How sick does she have to be before I let her go?

So I cut fresh lilacs and cherry blossoms and filled the livingroom with them - placed cloth with lavender and neroli oil all around the room, lit white beeswax candles, washed all the bedding, put the most beautiful music I know of on the CD, - had a drink - and waited.

Had another drink, called Donna and sobbed like an insane person.
Waited some more.

Decided to give Lil three Tramadols - 60 mgs now - and hope she relaxed. She was becoming agitated no matter how hard I tried to seem ok.

Alex arrived, his face grey with sorrow. He sat on the mat with her stroking her funny little head and saying "What a sweet little soul you are...don't deserve this Bo...what a sweet little girl you are".

I fed Dan outside so Lila wouldnt have to watch him eating.

I sat on the kitchen floor with her and massaged her, using deeper techniques on the muscle, TTouch along the spine, breathing with her and relaxing..
Suddenly the Tramadol kicked in and her head was up, eyes bright, ears pricked - she wanted to go out. We coaxed her out - offered to carry her down the steps - but with that delicate yet determined way about her, she made it outside all on her own, had a pee, came in and had a big drink. Suddenly she had done this big, unmistakable, about- face. I said, just offer her some food and see. Alex made a "smorgasbord" of canned tripe, babyfood, EVO venison, catfood, grated cheese, turkey breast and beef heart.

Lila ate all the beef heart on the plate and asked for more.

She ate more. And more, Possible 2/3 of a cup in total.
And sat there smiling and looking better than she had in days.

When Frances arrived my first words were "I'm not actually trying to be the most difficult person on the planet here". But she totally got that Lila was not yet "there". She did a little examination, had a few words about meds, food, life qualuity - we had talked at length the last time she was here - and left smiling. Her last words were "I'm glad you have few more days with her".

Lila seemed happier last night than in some time - slept well. She has spent the morning moving from one spot to another - sometimes in the office here, other times getting some sun and classical music in the kitchen, on her bed under the table. I've been as normal today as can be expected. Alex drove to the Blair first thing, picked up her Tramadol, came back here with them.

This is my final gift of love, care, connection to my dearest girl,my sweetheart, my souldog. A few more days, and all our attention and love.It's a tribute to her spirit and, I think, how much she has loved her life, that she so badly wants to stay.

I can only send her off with the love she showed me how to feel, share, and believe in. Moment by moment, breath by breath.
Will update soon.

Look at the light...

www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-xsCXEvR6M...and all the time it's a changing

Afer Ventus

Sea of clouds... Umbriel.

Sea of showers.... Ariel.

And we go to the stars.

And we go to the stars.

Sea of waves... Io... Vela.

And we go to the stars.

And we go to the stars.

Remember, life is earth-born. Remember, it is brief.

Remember.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rLhFMW8nZSI&feature=related

from Stephen Levine

"A woman we had worked with, her mother had been very ill. She'd never really gotten along with her mother. Her mother had been very judgmental, quite unkind, abusive. And her mother then became very ill, very ill, and she was the only one of the sisters who would even go and sit bedside. They all had such contention, felt so judged, they really put their mother out of their heart. She was a Zen student. She decided that her work on herself was to be there for her mom. She sat next to her mom, and her mom would go into a light sleep and come out, in and out, as people do when they're real ill. She would just sit next to her mother and wish her well -- not, "Why haven't you given me this? Why didn't you do that for me?" -- not trying to total the accounts, but trying to let her mother, as is, into her heart. That's the basis of relationship -- as is. Because if I want you to be the least different, then you become an object in my mind instead a subject of my heart. Where's the healing there? It's just separation. Her mother had been very nasty in her lifetime, and it wasn't ending just because she was dying. This woman, day after day, sending loving-kindness to her mother. On the day that her mother died, her mother looked up at her and said, "I hope you roast in hell. I hope that you have the worst possible life." Her mother died cursing her, and she died with her daughter sitting next to her, looking at her with soft eyes, and with an open heart saying, "Ma, I hope everything's OK for you." Now for her mom it was terrible, but for her it was wonderful. She had really finished her business. She was just with another human being who was having a hard time. I mean, that's really an extreme story, and hopefully we can all get some glimpse of what that one would be. But that's enormous healing. The woman who was dying died; the woman who was sitting next to her was healing.

MISHLOVE: Who was she healing?
LEVINE: Herself.
MISHLOVE: Herself, yes.
LEVINE: That's all we can heal. If we're not working on our own healing, we certainly can't be contributing to anyone else's healing.

A Time for Grace

http://members.aol.com/guyh7/hospice.htm

http://www.pethospice.org/HOSPICE%20FRAME.htm

"Curing is easy, but not curing is so hard, an impotence in the soul."

Sean Spence

And so, she lies beside me, her breathing a little laboured, but mainly from the nasal issue, not from fluid in the lungs. A while ago I tried some lightly seared beefsteak and she took a few bites - you could see the interest - but just maybe three pieces. I read over and over that cachexia takes many cancer patients - and somehow, this seems avoidable to me. But I can't get her to eat, and Frances says not to force the issue, not to ram Nutrical down her throat or stress her incessantly. I'm asking myself, does she want to go? I think not, and yet...the not eating. Is the body trying to not "feed' the *%@^$* tumour?

Yesterday she did lamb and babyfood, today almost nothing. I talk on the phone, I wash dishes and vaccuum and check in on everyone - Danny, cats, even the reptiles can probably feel my angst - but Lila is never off my mind. She gets up to reposition herself and seems to have a mild panic attack; when I lie down on her bed beside her, her brave little heart is just pounding. I lie there holding her for some time, breathing love into her on every possible level. The heart pounding slows down and she sleeps again. I go back to researching hospice care.

Grace hovers nearby, the house is filled with it.

A double rainbow appears over the forest out back, and I decide to grab a shot.

Thursday

This morning I woke up to some unusal gifts of grace and strength, things I strung together from the oddest places, unexpected bits of courage as our time is so clearly winding down and Lila cannot be asked to stay for very much longer at all now. I mean we may say goodbye tonight. It is raining AGAIN and although I'm as sure as one can be that theTramadol is keeping ehr out of pain, she is weak and inappetant and her eyes today are less alert and penetrating and more clouded and resigned.

I called Frances (who is now pretty close to sainthood in my view) to come and just look at Bo, assess her, see what we can/should do now.

Contrary to my remarks yesterday about wanting company I seem to be sliding into a phase of just wanting to be with Dan, Lila and Alex. I am barely able to work and sleeping about 3 hours a night less than I need, so I feel rundpown and mentally fatigued. But my heart is strong. The panic is more or less over and I am blessedly moving into a place of great strength. I was thinking this morning, out walking with Dan, how tough it's been to lose the three beings I've loved most in my life all within four years(and my little Bubby-Howe, who died from lymphoma last Xmas) . But at least with Bo, she has had a long (relatively long) life, she's had such joy and fun and total adoration from me. I've saved her over and over, from her severe panic when she wa a puppy, to her ruptured cruciates at 3, then heart disease, spondylosis, renal disease and lastly, this wretched cancer. Part of this has to be related to her purebred parent - we know one was a purebred and the sire was likely a Border Collie - some may be related to her nervousness, which both Eddie and I feel predisposes dogs to certian issues - and some may, tragically, be related to living in a part of th world where herbicides are normal and everyone's outdoor decks are laden with arsenic. I've done everything I can possibly do to prevent cancers, and we've had three in two years. I admit I do fear for my DanDan, and for myself and all the cats as well. We are to have the deck repalced in a week or two so that at least is something. But with at least 50% of all dogs over the age fo 10 getting cancer, I guess its not easy to pinpoint it so clearly. Lila's tumour probably originated in the spleen, and she has some sort of nasal discharge as well - both of those were true for luke as well. Coincidence? That seems unlikely to me, but anything is possible.

On another note; Luke's death almost killed me as well, the suddenness and shock, the pain of him being ripped away from me like that. But the ongoing grace is, I am a bit of a veteran with this now, and I know a few things I didn't before. I know to pace myself and take some downtime and balance solitude with company, rest with work, indoors with out. I know not to punish myself for being able to laugh at a funny movie or be silly online with a friend - denial, during grief, is a goood thing. Luke always gave me so much strength, and it appears to be ongoing, another part of his legacy. I always expected he would still be here when Bo died, I mean he would only have been ten this August! and he would be my rock when she did. Instead, he paved the way for me to reach inside myself and see how much I could survive. We still feel the Babe close by and I believe he is close to Lila now.
But grief is very hard work.


Danny has more strength than I often credit him with - he's such a happy little ray of sunshine, and his special genius(I believe every dog has one) is LOVE, so I can overlook the fact that he's a young man now too and he's strong for me in his own way. The ability to make me laugh - I mean really crack up - at a time like this is no small talent. But gazing at him, whether hes' running like the wind in the fields out back, curled up on the sofa, fills my eyes with such love that it soon spreads all through my being and I feel like I'm aglow with it.

Or as I say to Aunti Donna, much to her chagrin - he just keeps on getting cuter.
When Dan was a puppy it seemed he was looking at me all the time - I was so sad when he first came here - and he's just sort of, metaphorically yell "BUT I LOVE YOU!!" and how bad can it all be when you have that?

Aw - we take strength and courage where we can. This morning I woke up to lila seeming brighter than in previous days, probably the higher dose of Tramadol. But as the day has gone on she's refused scrambled eggs with cheese, baby food, catfood, warmed up chicken pot pie, milk. She looks interested and then says no way. I feel from her a resignation, a sadness, not anguish, but then I couldnt let her get there. Although we are keeping her reasonably comfortable I do feel her spirits are low.

Anyway I was reading a local paper and came across the words "recovery and celebration" and I just about fell over - because this is what we will need to focus on soon - recovering from this loss, and celebrating what we had and STILL HAVE...I always promised my Bo I'd be ok after she went, and hard as that is, of course I will be.

Frances just called and is on her way over so I'd best get moving. It's good to be able to talk here, just pour it out. I'll be back, no doubt, in a little bit.

Shorty, you're my Angel

A silly video but a really special song to Lil and me.



http://youtube.com/watch?v=sjQWo6ICHLc

A Few Blessed Hours

Not many people understand how grief affects me. It seems my circle of friends is pretty much comprised of other loners who like to get together twice a month and commune with like minded souls - drink, dance, talk - circle - you know, a sort of thinktank /party, between eccentric individualists who love the *idea* of community and other people, but in actuality, struggle with the reality of dealing with the hassle it brings.

Hence the term "DogTribe" - we love our dogs, we relate to our dogs, and we grudgingly admit to wanting human company from time to time as well. most of us have learned that it's largely a matter of quantity - too much human-time we go crazy...too little...we go crazy.
Moderation and balance once again? But dogs are always this safe haven, this lovely sense of company at the same time one can revel in solitude.

Yet amongst this group even I am somewhat odd, I seem always a little different somehow. I don't know whether to feel really weird or a little special. :) Hey - I can live with either! I just want more human company when I am down like this then I usually do.

But..many say they would prefer to be alone right now, at a time like this - whereas me? I would prefer to have company now, and be alone with it later, once the hurt becomes more manageable. Oh well - different strokes, I guess...

I wan people around me all the time right now, or so I think - but in truth, this first hour of solitude I have here is more than welcome. It could just be that I'm so tired and living in such an altered state at the moment that I can't honestly tell you what I want or need. I would say that having my friends coming and going is what's keeping me "ok" - but right this second, I have to admit that the solitude, despite all thats going on, is one huge breath of release, and the first thing I wanted to do was write a bit.

I can't accurately fill in the last few days, because we are so perilously close to the end and I am so utterly altered from my usual self and routines, that it's all a blur and that, I assure you, is neither cop-out nor exaggeration. Jaye was here, a lot, Lila was up and down, Alex constantly back and forth, many calls, much panic, some sublime hours of sleep and rest and togetherness when for a little bit, all almost seemed like it was ok again.


This is my babygirl and best friend, and what's a bloody week compared to what she is and what she's given me? Why, really, should I expedite this process to suit what others want from me or think would be best?

I sit here at times and I wonder why our entire society is in such a massive denial of death.

Then, I have to face yet another one and i think, ok - so THAT'S why; it's just too damn painful to deal with.
Whoever said denial was a bad thing was some sort of psychiatric sadist. Sure does me a world of good, in moderate doses.

So ok, enough abstraction. What's going on? Well ... in between the rounds of care-helpers who have been here since Sunday, and the talking, the afternoon naps, nightly vigils, the research, the support-seeking ( call me weak, I don't know what to do anymore) and the worry about Daniel, I have the following to report:

1) Lil is still here. She is neither suffering greatly (give me some credit!) nor is she entirely comfortable. Given the situation she is in a pretty-good zone, but it is very tenuous, and I am watching all the time. She eats, but little - goes out on her own, drinks a lot, sleeps well, has some difficulty breathing at times, and wants me close 24/7. Lights are on like she is 5 years old but her poor little body breaking down anyway... Sound familiar, anyone??


2) I have called Frances Dugan twice now saying - ok, you have to come NOW, only to change my mind, after Lila rallied. This is difficult, but we would prfer to do hospice rather than euthanasia if possible. She has bad stretches and good ones, and I'm basically montioring how long they are, so that when the bad ones overtake the good I can make the final decision.

3) Lila has peaceful nights, she is on a lot of Tramadol, and she sleeps well - has rough mornings, but still walks out to pee, still eats (mainly babyfood now) and is still clear as a bell in terms of consciousness. She still glares imperiously at dan when he gets in her face. She still zones out blissfully when I massage her. She is still here, but - very close, and I feel that more and more as time passes.

Today was a rough morning and I actually called the Crematorium to see what we would need to do next. I doubled Lila's tramadol and she does seem better, but it's raining here and she always has had bad days when it rains.

Time is this bizarre tunnel that you look through backwards, and 13 years is like a huge lifetime back, but still only a few minutes.
No matter how much this hurts, and it is GODDAMN TERRIBLE, sorry for my language! it's still sacred time - passing from this life to the next, changing form, finalizing, letting go/affirming love. I am thinking so much about the passages of life that we try to avoid in a society that has lost its sacred centres. We just brush over death and we vilify anyone who needs to spend some time with their losses, calling prolonged grief "wallowing" or even worse, "weakness". I just thikn thats so cruel! On my groups I've met so many other people who suffered like this over a dog, it's comforting to know I am not alone.

I won't hurry this, it is something precious and sacred despite its pain and difficulty. I wont let her suffer but neither will I expedite her passing and deny us one moment of togetherness.

But please - say a prayer for young Daniel - he is really wondeirng about it all, and why being cute, adorable and funny doesn't make Lila get up and play anymore.

It's raining and I've been up since five. Will try to sleep a bit and stay in touch.
Love is all that really counts, and dogs are so good at telling us this.

Thanks for reading my ramblings and not judging me - this is so brutally honest even I question my sanity sharing it - but, I trust this mutual experience, in my tribe. My fellow dog people all know this journey, so I wont feel overly judged.

In fact - I won't feel judged at all.
Cat

Prayer

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ih3aAx-S5xg&feature=related

Let your arms enfold us
Through the dark of night
Will your angels hold us
Till we see the light

Hush, lay down your troubled mind
The day has vanished and left us behind
And the wind, whispering soft lullabies
Will soothe, so close your weary eyes
Let your arms enfold us
Through the dark of night
Will your angels hold us
Till we see the light

Sleep, angels will watch over you
And soon beautiful dreams will come true
Can you feel spirits embracing your soul
So dream while secrets of darkness unfold

Angel from Heaven
You came to me at the bleakest time I had then experienced
You came on a Full Moon of Scorpio with your face full of stars
and you saved me.
Angel from Heaven
you showed me where I needed to heal, how much I could love, and what a world of learning there was for me to gain.
You showed me laughter, sweetness, innocence and the holiness of the Little Way.
Before you I could have been any other human adrift in a sea of unawareness, of ego, believing I knew it all and could be God without ever even being truly good. And even since you have been here I am lost and flailing, torn between so many complexities and veering away from the course all the time. Thank God/dess I have you to bring me back every time.

And all these Moon and Sun tides you walked with me, laughed with me, held me in your noble heart and open gaze when I was pained, lost and tired. All these years you never wavered and you kept me strong.
All these years you have been my life- like earth, air, fire and water. All these years the Spirit in you kept the Spirit in me strong.
You showed me where Soul lives, how love burns through the dross of human failing, how strong I could be and how far I could go.
Angel from Heaven
I am deep in pain for your passing now. I am lost and afraid and I want you to stay. But if this is now the time we all must face, I will carry this pain forward along with the joy, the love and the meaning you have brought to my life.
Angel from Heaven. go with all my love, deeper than the deepest ocean, wider than the sky - go to the Clear Light of the Heaven you came from and know that I am grateful every day for you .
Know above all that nothing is ever lost or forgotten.

Lila, you're my angel, you're my darling.Now and forever. I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

Friday

Friday morning and yesterday turned out to be a good day. Frances is so wonderful. She got Leopold and Evita back here by about 1 pm and then we had a long talk about Lila. Frances will take over Lil's care now that Eddie is away, and she's just ten minutes down the road. It seems somehow fitting that at a time when Lila is passing over, and I am also returning to my centre by going back to my herbal and TTouch work as well as nutrition, that Lila will have this wonderful female vet. It seems part of a tide turning that is bittersweet - bitter because I had wanted Eddie to be the one to help us deal with this, but sweet because we have Frances. Bitter because Lila is leaving, but sweet because of all she has given to me and how much she is loved. It's always seemed to me in life that one thing happened tragically or painfully and somehow something new and good grew from it. Probably sounds hopelessly New Agey and I would never want too diminish another person's pain by glossing it over with that sort of thing. It often takes years before the larger picture can be seen. But there is no downside to having had Lila in my life. Not even the pain of losing her. It's part of the deal. All that joy, now this pain.
As CS Lewis famously said - that's the deal.

You know the saying "there's one best dog in the world, and everybody's got her"....well, in my work with dogs I am blessed to see so many "best dogs in the world", I could only wish every dog had this sort of love and care from a person. tic was talking on the radio show last week - which was great, Donna and Alex did a fantastic job dodging the difficult questions and keeping it light - about dogs in Cuba, the struggle of their lives, and how painful it was for him and his partner to witness. I can't let myself forget that Lila has had an extraoridnary life - the best food, vet care, pride of place in my heart and home, inspiration for my work - as I've said before she leaves a huge legacy. It still boggles my mind that her heart disease was diagnosed EIGHT years ago - she would never have lived this long without careful dietary management and religious administration of supplements. We were so blessed to have caught it early. I've loved this little girl like a daughter and a best friend in one, and I always will.

I do hate talking about her in the past tense, I catch myself doing that and it's nasty. I suppose that's the heart trying to prepare itself. But she is very much here right now. And yesterday although challenging for me -mainly fatigue - was a good Lila day.

I think after waiting all these years to get into the catfood, she is not gonna let go now she's actually allowed to have some.

Yesterday she was quite animated in the morning, with all the hubbub around here, then settled in for a quiet afternoon, but ate reasonaby well. I'm sticking with small bits here and there, she can't seem to cope with a regular sized meal at all. because she has a certain carte blanche right now doesn't mean I'm going to hasten her demise with sugar and so on...she gets home made gluten free cookies, scrambled eggs, bits of cheese, and assorted cooked meats. Yesterday was turkey which she adores. I'd like to try adding a premium food, maybe Merricks with something added to bolster fat, maybe a little stock? NOt worrying about nutrient balance means of course I'm thinking short term. I'm emphasizing iron, copper, zinc, selenium, fat and protein. But this diet is very low in Vitamin D, iodine and calcium to name what pops up first. The nutritionist in me won't let go. But first and foremost I need her to eat.

Thought for today: Lila has had the best of everything, all her life, including my time energy commitment and love. How many dogs, looking at the world overall, come close to this? How many people? The pain I will carry is her continued presence, and as we all know, eventually that pain will turn to loving memories and gratitude. It takes a long while with me, but we will get there.

I wanted to say that last night, after she saw me gathering my things to go up to bed, Lila decided she could navigate the 14 steps up to the bedroom with me, and so I let her do it. I won't be doing that again. I believe it caused her to hyperventilate which she did for some time after getting into bed, due to difficulty getting adequate oxygen. Now her anemia is corrected I think she is getting a reprieve here even if feeding so much iron is contraindicated in longterm cancer management it is definitely needed here. And she feels better for having this corrrected.... I was keeping levels right to the guidelines because that is standard practise for cancer, longterm. But she was a little low in hemaglobin so I've let her have all the heart and beef muscle she wants. I'm sure that's helped. But she CANNOT exert in the slightest, so tonight when Alex joins us here I will have him move the bed downstairs. It's too painful for me to sleep separate from her right now.

On the group I leanred that several others are facing loss right now, or at least the struggle with cancer we have here. My heart especially goes out to my client and friend Lori with her 12 yr old GR Molly. We spoke yesterday as Molly was having surgery - it has turned out to be lymphoma and and likely NOT HSA, which gves them some more time. And last month my friend Rhonda, who has Luke's brothers Scarr and Hudson, lost her beloved RR Una to bladder cancer. Although I would wish these sad events had not happened, there is a solidarity amongst those of us who love our dogs so so much and must "stand in the place of pain" as John O'Donohue calls it. We can at least feel less alone in a world that diminishes the love of and importance of a dog to the human heart.
Many people can lose a dog and feel sad a moment or two, but then move on.
Many people would euthanize an old dog who had no chance of life and was basiclly waiting to die.
Many would - do - think we are crazy when we give our last drop of energy and- literally- last dime to care for a canine friend in need.

Yep, many if not most. But then, there's me - Donna...Lori...Rhonda...Ellyn...and the rest of the TPC group. I'm so deeply grateful for them all.

I'm off for more coffee and to see what my girl might like to eat this morning.

Thursday

As of this morning I am formally initiated into the "good day, bad day" phenomenon. I mean, until you live with it a while it's sort of surreal. Come to think of it, living with it is surreal enough. As of last night I was about 90% sure we were going to have to call Frances. But then Alex arrived, Lila rallied, had a good night, and this morning was more animated than I've seen her since Wayne and Donna were here (they're coming again tomorrow). So another reprieve. I thought my heart would burst last night, but today I feel at peace again.

Today so far: she ate a little breakfast, was interested in the proceedings of the day (the rescued blue jay, plus Frances came to get two of my cats - we are slowly and which much support from friends and well wishers, getting them all spayed/neutered so at least they won't be reproducing - Frances is like a gift from the gods, but that's another story altogether)...I was very pleased with Lila's demeanour and attitude this morning, but I was careful not to let her eat too much. It's easy to get overenthused because your sick dog is finally eating - but I've noticed that she seems to have difficulty digesting a full meal, so we do smaller ones with as much variety as I can get into her. She took one of the salmon cookies and trotted off with it,well- pleased with herself - but then seemed unable to chew it. I broke it into pieces and she sort of collected them all like a little treasure, and lay on her bed glaring menacingly at Daniel, as if to say "Make my day"...he is exuberantly loving toward her and she just cannot abide any of it. That can be a hard thing to co-ordinate.
Oh God - all of it's hard right now, really.

But today has been gracious to us. Frances took Leopold and Evita off (Tuck was to go too, but escaped, and here's me thinking it's Leo that's possessed. Tucker actually broke through the door on the cat carrier.); I saved the jay; Lila is in "old dog" mode as opposed to sick dog mode - and Dan and I had a magnificent walk. The weather is extraordinarily autumnal here - some peculiarities of light, sky and the cool cool air - gorgeous. He ran a good 45 minutes - eyes crossed, tongue lolling out, zigzagging past me like he doesn't know who I am, just full throttle hound - and is actually, dare I say it, tired now. It's especially important for him right now to run off the stress. Dan is amazingly clever and tuned in, but a young soul all the same (which might be the Universe's way of helping me recover from my last Ridgeback being Confucius in dog form..or maybe WC Fields.. ) Watching him run, looking at the fantastic shape he's in (yes, that's a brag!) does my heart good as well.

I'm working on a batch of chickweed, burdock, calendula and marshmallow ointment for a friend with eczema. Making stuff always grounds me.


It's painful to admit that the palliative takes such a toll, but it does. I really need a few hours off all of it. Wouldn't a trip to the village, a litttle shopping, a few glasses of wine on the patio by the river be just wonderful about now. I can hardly remember what that's like anymore. This summer I have to start taking a bit more care of me, as they say - you know, on Orpah,lol. If I ever start sounding like Dr. Phil, just shoot me, please. But that's the jist - I am not at caregiver burnout yet, but I may well be and I will need some retail therapy, not to mention chilled Riesling on various patios. There is more to life than dogfood - I'm sure of it...riiight??

Well enough about me. I'm not the one who's leaving, not the one who's ill. Dan and I have plans - big plans, we're headed to a great adventure together in a new phase, and I've made him some pretty big promises. I will have to keep busy to keep the tears to a minimum, for his sake. I'm concerned how losing Bo will affect him too of course. But there is all this time ahead for us when this phase is over. What has to be remembered is this is my very best friend in the world - one who has never let me down... who has walked by my side for 13 years through thick and thin - one whose darling little face and sweet ways can never be replaced and will stay with me always.

Tomorrow I hope will be celebratory. Wayne and Donna are coming and we're going to eat, drink, rant(I have Wayne hooked on Qabalah now, lol) and just enjoy the weather, the company, the abundance - and of course, the Bo.

Or as we say around here: Maximum Bo power. One more time.

Monday

Almost 8 oclock and there are still many things I feel I need to do before bed - but, instead, I am just going to take Lilababy out for a "granny toodle" around the yard, and then have a quick shower, make some herbal tea and curl up with her on the couch.

Today followed the typical pattern; she was down in the morning, perked a bit when I got ready to take Dan for his walk, ate only a little, then crashed all afternoon; about 5 pm she rallies and starts agitating for food but doesn't seem to want anything. I wonder if I should ask Eddie about something for possible nausea. She's just being weird; wants eggs one day and not the next; wants liver last night and lots of it - today, meh to liver.So I managed to get the perennial favourite MILK into her and then some chicken stock from the lovely, thyme scented bird Auntie Donna left (I made soup today) and THEN - aha, CATFOOD. She wolfed the canned catfood which is a bit horrifying to me but at the same time I was so relieved to see her eat like that. If it has to be catfood well hot damn thats what we'll have. I plan to get some other indulgences for her as soon as I can - rabbit being the top of the list.

I usually sit in the backyard and watch the foxes and the cats at twilight, and today I divided some peace lilies while she and Dan hung out a bit. But I have to remember she can only take a little wee bit of stuff at a time. So we'll have just a wee toodle now and then a massage and sleep. Alex will be here to spell me off a little bit so that's great too.

One more day, and sleep is a blessing.
Thanks to the Creator for this precious time. I will try to get back to work tomorrow, I've been far too distraught, but I need to function now the worst of the shock is over.
Mommy loves Lila - so much love Lila.

No Journey's End

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fv2kmFZTDeY

The road now leads onward
As far as can be
Winding lanes
And hedgerows in threes
By purple mountains
And round every bend
All roads lead to you
There is no journey's end.

Here is my heart and I give it to you
Take me with you across this land
These are my dreams, so simple and few
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands

Deep in the winter
Amidst falling snow
High in the air
Where the bells they all toll

And now all around me
I feel you still here
Such is the journey
No mystery to fear.

Here is my heart and I give it to you
Take me with you across this land
These are my dreams, so simple and few
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands

The road now leads onward
And I know not where
I feel in my heart
That you will be there

Whenever a storm comes
Whatever our fears
The journey goes on
As your love ever nears

Here is my heart and I give it to you
Take me with you across this land
These are my dreams, so simple and so few
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands

Dance in Beauty

I invite you to enter for a moment
into Sacred Time and Space,
into a way of seeing that is broad and spacious.
See this Day, from the time you arose this morning
until you sleep this evening, as one Ceremony,
divided into small and familiar rituals,
your Heart as the Altar.
You, part of the Cycles of Light and Darkness.

Now begin to see your Life,
from the moment of your Conception
until the time of your Death
as one long, continuous Ceremony,
filled with many rituals,
some familiar, some unknown and challenging.
Your Home and all Your Relations, the Altar.
You, part of many Seasons and Cycles.

Now see this Ceremony of your Life
as part of a much larger Ceremony that extends
Seven Generations into the Past and Seven into the Future,
made up of many Births and Deaths.
This beautiful spinning Earth the Altar.
You, part of the great Ebb and Flow.

Now, if You will, imagine this larger Ceremony
to be but one part of a Ceremony so grand,
so magnificent as to be hardly comprehensible,
a great, vast Ceremonial Circle, rich and vibrant
with millions upon millions of swirling
Circles of Dancing Light,
and You, one of those Dancing Circles,
a Dancer on the Altar that is the Universe,
where Time is Eternal.

May You Dance In Beauty.

circle wisdom - sedonia cahill

Tears on my Heart

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k0mR8Jc8Orc

Deora ar mor chroi (Tears on my Heart)

How beautiful the day and night;

the earth is singing in the wind,

the voices rise and touch the sky

telling all the earth's believing,

and in the night sighs fall down,

and from the skies sighs fall down on me.

And when I move away from view

my voice is singing in the wind,

it rises up to touch the sky

telling all that I believe in,

and from the night earth shall sing,

and from the night earth shall sing,

and from the night earth shall sing again.

Sunday

Mother's Day. And I am so glad I didn't have to make the call today. In fact her improvement seems to be continuing. She went through the same pattern - not well in the morning, refusing food, seeming down, and then when my friends Wayne and Donna arrived she became quite animated, and we brought a bed out of the office so she could lie under the kitchen table and be near the action. She ate a very little then but much more later on - devoured some poached liver, plus the usual turkey and milk. Some bits of cheese.

Later on I took her for a short leash walk but she seemed tired. Overall a lot brighter. I am working hard not to convince myself we have remission. We have a bit of time, that's all (and that's so much.)

Dan was an absolute delight today. Oh how I adore the bones of him, he is such a sweet, happy, upbeat and loving little being. He loves Wayne and Donna and had a riot as usual even without Gracie (Wayne and Donna's lurcher, we decided it's too much of a strain to have a canine visitor right now). He's such a source of strength to me I can't describe what he means to me. I'm just humbled and awed by the gift he is in my life.

I got a Mother's day present of four solar lights for the back yard, and a flashing night collar for Danny which I had really been wanting. Donna brought chicken and buns and cheese and we just had an impromptu meal and some company. Good allround, I feel cheered and strengthened by the company. Wayne's coming back tomorrow to help me with some yard stuff and I can't express how much the help means at this stressful time.

Tuesday we go to the clinic again. I have discontinued the mega-B vits and the homeopathics. I didn't mean to sound so dire, when I wrote "they won't work anyway". I just need to follow my own heart now. That's partly what I meant by Lila healing me - helping me re-connect with those wellsprings of healing and intuition, things I have come perilously close to losing in the quest for more scientific knowledge. In my heart I see nutrition as part of a whole healing package and I have thought often lately that because I have a good deal of knowledge in nutrition I have lost touch with my intuitive, holistic side. Lila's illness has thrust me almost violently back into this role because I knew right from the beginning I would need to tune in deeply and listen now. Dr. B would never approve of this diet, for example, but he would also support my decision to just let her have what she wants.

And right now she wants me ot get off the pc and go take care of her. So that's where I'm headed and I hope I can get her up to bed so she can sleep beside the beings who love her so much, with all our hearts, it's important for her to be wrapped in the arms of all this love while she rests, and important to be close to me should anything go wrong in the night.

We'll see what tomorrow brings.

We're good...right now, we're good

Although earlier today I was truly "ready" to make the call, lila rallied when Alex arrived - she adores Alex - and she ate quite a lot, came and hung out in the kitchen and seemed like a sick dog, a little down, but not ready to leave yet.

So one more day's reprieve.

Alex is having a nap and lila is sleeping beside him. Dan and I went out and sat in the backyard, secenting the air, listening to the birds.

One more night, may it be blessed and peaceful.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KGhgtXgq9Bw

and every day you gaze upon the sunset with such love and intensity

it's almost...it's almost as if if you could only crack the code

then you'd finally understand what all this means

but if you could...do you think you would trade in all the pain and suffering?

ah, but then you'd miss the beauty of the light upon this earth

and the sweetness of the leaving

Beannacht (A Blessing)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZfvS2LYbZLQ




On the day when the weight deadens on your shoulders and you stumble,
may the clay dance to balance you.

And when your eyes freeze behind the grey window and the ghost of loss gets in to you,
may a flock of colours, indigo, red, green, and azure blue come to awaken in you a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays in the currach of thought and a stain of ocean blackens beneath you, may there come across the waters a path of yellow moonlight to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours, may the clarity of light be yours, may the fluency of the ocean be yours, may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow wind work these words of love around you, an invisible cloak to mind your life

Saturday

This morning is not good. Once again I am trying not to overreact, but then I hear myself say that and it sounds so silly. Not overreact? Whether we have a good day or a bad day or three more or five, it will still amount to the same thing. Do I call B tomorrow? Do I make her get in the van and drive over an hour in for a needle I have little hope will do anything at this point? I know what B is trying to do and I understand the rationale. But despite my eternal optimism and stick-to-itiveness I feel this is it. Oh it's such a terrible and bizarre feeling...

But then there was last night, a young couple and their dog out walking in the field behind the house. An unusual event to be sure as we are in the middle of nowhere, basically. Danny went berserk, of course, and started to bark and run along the perimeter of the fence, in high excitation (it's very cute when he tries to be tough). And a minute later I hear a second bark - not as loud or deep but almost as insistent - Bo had made it off the couch and was there to check out this greatly interesting happening.

For several minutes afterwards she was quite animated and pleased with herself, also appeared to be looking around for food, but refused everything I offered.

She got back on her green sofa and setttled in - I managed to give her a little massage, but then she was so out of it I couldn't bring myself to make her walk the flight of stairs to bed. It was so difficult but eventually I went up myself and slept. I just will not settle on one of the sofas and I need to sleep too....Came down at 2 and she seemed almost alert but declined to go outside with Dan. Now at 6 am she is barely raising her head.

This has been the pattern the last week - really bad mornings, quiet afternoons then a bit of a rally at the end of the day. And here I am doing what I've counseled so many not to do - hanging on, checking her constantly, praying, refusing to let go. B assures me she is not in pain, but she sure as hell isn't feeling good, either.

Damn this evil disease!!This is three cancers in 2 years now, and me using natural diet, no chemicals, minimal vaccinations. Why are people so resistant to the fact that environmental toxins are causing so much of this?

Why do I always have to know why?

Well, I always was a science geek, although later on my quest to know "why" led me to study religion - two sides of the same coin, really. But I can't stand not knowing why this has happened. Maybe thinking about it academically lends me some badly needed emotional distance. I know that researching hemangiosarcoma after Luke died was one of the things that helped me survive.

You know I still have that last message from Dr. Modiano on my answering machine - I've taken down the black scarves from the front of the house and moved his little "shrine" into my bedroom and put away his coats and so on - but I just can't erase that message, it feels like it's the last living thing of him I possess. Funny, these little things that become so meaningful, that we humans hang on to for dear life. Dr. Modiano gave me so much of his time and so much understanding, especially when I had myself convinced I had done something wrong or might have saved Luke if I'd been ten minutes quicker. Modiano told me that if the veterinary clinic was next door, when Luke collapsed that night "we were in major trouble". He also said with HSA if I'd managed to keep him alive that night, it was "only to be able to say goodbye" since this is a cancer that is always, or 98% of the time, fatal. He was one of the human sources that kept me going that first few weeks - Danny, of course, was what really pulled me through.

Well, she just had her vetmedin and furosemide and went out to pee and straight back to the couch. I'll start getting an array of breakfast offerings ready (the cats are loving the fact they get all the stuff lila refuses, lol). I'm not sure I can put her through the trip in to Ottawa today, I will need to speak with Sister Donna first. Donna and Wayne will know what to do, fellow DogTribe Elders that they are. We shall see.

I'm going to make another pot of coffee and sit in the yard a few minutes, soak up the green.

Note to self: don't forget to breathe.

When the dark night seems endless...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxDWGud8pDY

Later on... that very same day...

So you know, life just goes rolling along even when you're in despair. And the banality sometimes is rejuvenating. I shouldn't say "banal" - I mean, everyday, ordinary. The pitch I can get to with sadness is not something I want or need to hold longer than necessary. Later on, after writing all that earlier about healing - I just showered, tidied up, made a batch of dogfood, and took Dan for a walk. You know, like nothing out of the ordinary here is happening at all.

Lila had a rough morning - no food (but no vomiting) and very "down". She really doesn't seem good. I cooked a batch of beef cubes and mixed them (cut up small for her) with quinoa, and only added caclium, basica, L-arginine.
She just flat our refused. I tried a tofu weiner (she loves those things) milk (ditto) but no way jose. So I FINALLY cooked ground turkey with sweet potato and that did the trick. She managed about a half cup, and then she got a few beef cubes down (she really needs the iron) and then a toodle around the yard. It's so heartening when she seems normal like that. But only a few minutes tires her and then she goes back to the bed under my desk, which is own her preferred place, and there she stays. I can tell from her position she is not very comfortable.

So I got some salad down me and a big glass of, err, spirulina juice (I do believe in this stuff) and now I'm settling into the afternoon calm, a time when I would normally just be working and drinking coffee and hanging out in the backyard as much as I can before the black flies arrive. It's like any other day. That was something that really boggled my mind when John died, how life just seemed to go on around me. Then again, that was my very first tragedy, I was a tragedy-virgin and grief is by its very nature, narcissistic anyway. When Luke died I knew enough not to expect people to all stop going to work and just move in here and take care of me - now this time I feel...not only not expecting of the world's business to cease, but I really do cherish the normal routines and the ordinary, the things that ground and stabilize us in times of crisis. I am guessing this is one of the key differences between a loss you are allowed to prepare for and one that just takes you totally by surprise. In this case, I cherish as much ordinariness as I can get.

And it's important to remember that Dan is feeling unsettled and will be upset too when Lila goes. I'm trying to keep him very well exercised and as "normal" as possible in terms of routines. It will be a big empty house with just the two of us, and we have a long time ahead to be together. I need to focus as much as possible on Lila but be mindful of Dan. It's a lot to manage at times.



So today has not been encouraging. The goal of our therapy now is to reduce the lactic acid buildup in her blood, we are not attempting to do anything but buy more quality time. She can't go through surgery or radiation even if there was anyway at all I could finance it at this point. We're looking at alkalinizing the system (hard to do when all she will eat is meat) but this is very challenging with so much toxin from the tumours.

Two more injections 0f megaB vitamins and assorted homeopathics - and Tuesday we re-test her Darkfield to see if there is any improvement at all.

But I'm getting ahead here, I should lay this out a bit more sequentially, just too tired right now, and I don't mean to rush through. She is sleeping beside me and I should really do some work.

This point, this moment, right now

Trying to start writing about Lila reminds me of when I was a kid and had to do some assignment for school - usually some important project that we had to hand in, but were given a few weeks to start researching and then perfecting our finished product. I was always excited to start but rarely ever satisfied with the finished product - my analyst, years later, called this "setting the bar too high". It sets you up for failure if you can never meet your own standards; I would never do this to a dog, I always set my guys up to succeed and to feel good about their strength, cleverness, and place in the world. Yet I continually do this to myself - and the more important a thing is to me, the harder it is to get it right. A fine line between self esteem - I wouldn't put my name on an essay I didn't KNOW would get at least an A - and self sabotage (sometimes, we have to just get a thing done and move on).

Starting to write about Lila has felt like this project from school, that I can't quite get going on, but that I know is one of the most important things in my life. On any given day, I will make muffins, prune the cedars, dust the kitchen, work with my clients, walk Daniel - just go about my daily routines - with these vistas of experience swirling in my head, things I need to share, to write, that want so badly to get out. But I don't think I can find the words; I'm a good enough writer, I suppose, but I'm not sure anyone can get this sort of thing onto paper coherently.

Last week's events however have left me no choice. Imperfect as it will be, as it must be, here it is. My darling Lila. The dog who changed my life. The sweetest of all sweet peas. My little bunny.
Lila is dying.

And there is nothing I can do about it, despite tables groaning with supplements, despite organic quinoa and fresh rabbit and spirulina, homeopathy - despite surgery, medications, chirporacty, acupuncture, research - endless research - and above all, boundless, limitless universes of love - she's going to leave me, and soon. Any day now. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. But soon. The hole in the bed has appeared. Her cancer has returned and this time with a vengeance. Everything we're doing now is palliative. This - damn miserable unfair wretched bloody disease - cannot be stopped.

And the worst thing is I can see it in her face and hear it in her breathing. She is far more tired than I am, and God knows I am plenty tired now. She's only half here anymore. Half of her already walks in spirit. Only through the immeasurable grace that is Lila does she hang on at all. Only through her heart knowing how shattered mine is does it beat another minute. I can feel this, and I can't spirulina it away this time.

So now we have to face the biggest challenge of all; the batttle I go into knowing I cannot possibly win. The biggest challenge of all, to say, I will not surrender, but I know I cannot win.

The challenge now to heal. Yes - heal, heal into the death of the most important being in my life,my spiritguide, my soulfriend, my sweetheart. Because if there is anything that is clear right now - clear to me in any way that is eternal, that transcends this daily work of mine with numbers, balances, science and the material - it's that one can only die two ways; healed or unhealed. No one avoids the process. No one avoids the pain. But one can go in wholeness and completion, or in anguish and regret.

And the quality of Lila's death depends on my wholeness, my healing, my spiritual strength for it to be a healed and loving passage. I know she doesn't want to leave me. I know her whole being aches for those happy days when she was a young dog and we explored the forests together, played on the beach in NS, faced each challenge (and there were many) together, with confidence and determination and love.

But she has to go, and I have to be healed. There is nothing in herself that needs healing; Lila is perfect in her heart. And there is nothing in our relationship that is stressed, wrongful, that I need to amend; I have never been anything but a good Mom, I will say this with pride. Nothing is perfect and I wish I'd been less busy, less wrapped up in my own stuff, had more money. But I look at the 13 years and I cannot fault myself. I put her first, I did when she ruptured her cruciates at 3, the little minx, and I put her first now. Some will call me crazy, but those "some" do not matter. I find no fault with myself here, try though as I might. Yet, there is healing that needs to come. In me. So she can leave in love and wholeness.

And you know we humans would rather "be ruined than changed" yet change I will, and fast.

So, finding that peace, that wholeness, is the purpose of this blog. To tell her story, to keep this precious, sacred endtime forever alive, but to also find my healing in it as well. Because that was her role in life, aside from the sheer intrinsic beauty that dogs are, in their simplicity, open heartedness and joy, the special ones come with a purpose. So this is my last gift to you my little bunny, and the only one that really ever mattered. That somehow I can heal, release myself form my own patterns of self sabotage and frustration. In healing you, I brought myself closer, step by difficult step. In letting you go, the circle completes. I will find my power in your memory, the place inside me that YOU created, the work I do, the person I've become.

For you, Radley - anything.
Mommy loves Lila - so much love Lila.