Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Big Thoughts About LIfe

are forcing themselves in, and I'm resisting. 

I'm blogging about trivia and new dryers, because the other things are just so life and death. Dryers are easier.

A friend lost her dog to cancer today. A little red pit bull who had started her life in the most nightmarish way and had the scars of fighting inside and out, and was found on the street, and was taken into a loving home where she could be the sweet, delicate little dork she really was, and was loved deeply. Her happy new life ended far too soon, but at least in the loving arms of a human and animal family that adored her.  Still, far too soon, and far too suddenly. They barely had time to adjust to the idea that she had cancer before she was gone.  I never met her in person (they live far away) but her mom shared her life on Facebook, and damn, I actually loved that silly little red dog. I always kinda thought I'd meet her one day, when I made my next, too infrequent trip to Maryland Sheep and Wool.  I'm going to miss a dog I never met.  
And that leads to the news that the former co-worker/current Facebook friend I knew at the Big Law Firm many years ago is probably facing the end of his road. Pulmonary embolism, complication of cancer in his lungs, brain, and God knows where else at this point.  Amazingly, he's still sharing it all on Facebook. The parallel between the little red dog and the appellate level litigator is strange, but there it is.  I learned that sweet, dorky Liberty had passed just hours after reading John's update on his own condition.  

Meanwhile, here at the Bossy Doghouse, Murphy is hanging on, but didn't eat as well today. I can coax him with hand feeding, and I think this is a form of manipulation - he's figured out that he can get me to bend down and hand feed him white meat chicken breast like a four legged sultan, and he likes it.  On the other hand, he didn't poop on the floor, but waited until I got home and walked him, so he's still aware of his dignity and in there trying.  He spends most of his time in the bed I got him last year, where at the moment he's just the tip of an ear visible over the side. God, he's so small.  But when he's awake he's happy, and if I offered him a goldfish graham cracker I'm sure he'd eat a small handful.  He still walks, he still demands to sleep in the big bed, he can still summon the energy to be bossy and annoying. It doesn't last long, but he can still be a pain in the ass.  He's a shadow of his former self, but his former self is still in there. I'll know when he's too tired, and he's not quite there yet. And his accidents on the floor are meaningless and not even annoying now, because they are the natural issues of an old dog, and I'm grateful for them.

In the immortal words of the brilliant Warren Zevon:  "Enjoy every sandwich." 

Murphy does, and he's an inspiration to me. Enjoy every goldfish graham cracker. The vanilla cupcake ones are the best.


Brenda B said...

I don't think dogs know to be afraid.

After reading your blog for so many years, I will miss dear Murphy, too.

Joan said...

Feisty little Murphy... and on the flip side, the imminent arrival of a new grandchild.

All part of "life's rich tapestry" indeed. xx

besshaile said...

I can't stop weeping about Liberty. I too thought I'd cuddle her some day. I am now weeping for my Priss too - another dog who should never have trusted a human again and instead decided to love me.

oh weep

oh weep