marriednmiddled

We said Goodbye to Harley about 12 hours ago. My heart is broken, and I’m alternately okay, or a sobbing mess. We came home from the vet and immediately started packing her things that we wanted to save, boxed up things we wanted to donate, and throwing away things that served neither. I have a nice memory box that when I’m ready, will be sealed up and put away. We donated the practicals that didn’t have sentimental value to the pound.  

We saved a Woobie that replaced another woobie, but she didn’t take to even if it was the same monkey, but a different color. When we are ready, that will be a bridge between her and our next dog, if we get one.

I wish I could share  everything in my heart.  How does one express seven years worth of love and friendship and the void it leaves when we say goodbye? Is it when I picked up a sofa pillow that smelled like her and began stroking it and crying while pacing on the carpet still covered with her fur?

This sucks...but I’m still grateful for the things that have caused the suckiness  She was a wonderful, loving, adored creature, and I’ll miss her forever.  

Goodbye Harley. Thanks for showing me what true unconditional love looks like.   Thanks for cuddle time and a chin on my shoulder.   Thanks for begging at the table, being a cuddlebug even though you hated it, and being my faithful companion. Thanks for nightly Greenie hunts, patiently waiting while I worked, and kisses on demand.  

Thanks for everything. I love you.  

Ugh. The time I have been dreading since my dog started going gray a couple of years ago is here. Harley was doing well, last good day was April 13. She started having a limp and some diarrhea, so we scheduled a vet visit. She had one ten days later to get her shots, so we okay to have waited until then. Our vet’s office is super busy. After that appt, we were told the leg was probably a soft tissue injury, and that the digestive distress was something that she ate. They found a curious nodule along her mammary tract, and aspirated it for tests. It did come back with “round cells” and those were probably cancer. They scheduled a surgery date of 5/10 to remove it for biopsy and run some tests. While she would be sedated, they would x-ray her shoulder to rule out anything else, because it still wasn’t getting any better.

The phone call I received at 11am on 5/10 knocked me for a loop. They wouldn’t do the surgery. The pre-procedure images they took showed cancer, and lots of it.  Her lungs look like a snowstorm, and we maybe have weeks, possibly a month left with her. My heart is broken into a thousand pieces, and I don’t know what to do with it. I’m trying to live in the moment, and enjoy every minute I have left with her…but I can’t help but look around and see her everywhere. She was my service dog, so she was always with me. Memories are punching me on the chin almost every where I look. 

During and after the initial phase of the pandemic, we’d responsibly started stocking up on her food and treats, because we didn’t want to experience food/treat insecurity again…and now we have more than she could possibly use in a month. Her prolific fur is probably always going to be everywhere. With her limping pain, she’ll probably never go upstairs again, never have another bath, and get her nails clipped.  No more Petco, Church…etc  But I still go to those places, and I feel like I’m carrying a boulder in my stomach.  What doesn’t help is that Harley knows when I feel that way, and she still tries to do her job. To interrupt the panic attacks before they start. Oh…what am I going to do without her? This sucks. 

 Ow. 

I woke up feeling fine. No fever, no aches or pains, no symptoms at all, really. I had hoped that I had gotten away with the 2nd shot side effects scot-free. Nope. This afternoon, the injection site soreness spread, my shoulder is aching and making my entire upper body hurt, and this evening brought some sensitive throat fun. My office mate is throwing up and not feeling good at all. People at my community have called off, or are so achy and chilled that they can barely get their work done. 

But. You know what? I’d gladly take this and then some. It’s totally worth it to have protection from the virus. A potential few days of ick, rather than 2 weeks (or more!) of an active infection that could possibly kill me...? I’m good. I’ve got a heating pad, some Tylenol, a tea-making husband, a book, and my cats and dog. I’m all set. 

This isn’t horrible y’all. Get the vaccines!

I think this will be my last reporting entry unless something goes really wonky. Everything is fine. My arm is better, I haven’t grown a snout or a curly tail, I haven’t craved anyone’s brains, and I haven’t picked up any radio signals from the government to rise up against the revolutionaries. 

The injection site is very tender, and my shoulder is off and on achy, but that is about it.  I have a headache that comes and goes, but I think that has more to do with staring at computer screens all day in florescent lighting than anything else.