Blowin' in the Wind

As I watch our Super Dog Daisy travel through the suddenly present twilight of her life, I can't help but be reminded how transient and nebulous life really is.  Daisy entered my life when an employer scooped an emaciated, mangy pup off the highway, later finding the grown dog far too much to handle.  The possibility of a shelter loomed.  Single at the time, I was already knee-deep in rescued dogs, but I saw something so special shining out of Daisy that I couldn't entertain the possibility of an uncertain future for her.  So home she came with me, where her boundless, dervish-like energy required her to be leashed in the house at first, just to keep her from caroming off the tables and counters, and mowing over the small dogs.  Daisy's preternatural intelligence was always there, even as her boundless energy made her a very challenging responsibility. 

For years, Daisy would periodically get restless and just leave the farm.  It felt criminal to pen her up during the day,  but with a baffling frequency she would head out the driveway, cross a major highway and just keep going in the  same direction each time.  Putting her name and my number on her collar meant that I met a lot of interesting and diverse people from nearby communities and towns.  Meter-readers and UPS/Fed Ex trucks were a favorite target, and she'd cannily sneak in, only to surprise the drivers with the knowledge of a stowaway.  Often she'd stop at the same house to lounge around their yard and visit, and the nice retired couple would call me sometimes before I knew she was gone.  Over the years, they became so fond of Daisy and so happy to see her that they named a cat for her.  After I retrieved her I'd pen her up for a day or two to give her a chance to think about the resulting loss of her freedom.  Her maturity brought a lessening of runaways, but she didn't completely give it up until the last couple of years, though sometimes she'd stay home for weeks or months at a time. 

Over the last eight months or so, her vigor and energy has declined dramatically, and vets could find no reason.  She's coming thirteen, so while it could have been just her mileage catching up with her, she still moves well and gets up and down easily.  Some hip arthritis, but not severe.  Many tests later it seems the likely culprit is a spreading mast-cell cancer.  She does have a rapidly multiplying crop of small tumors more or less all over her, and while there's no detectable large tumor found by ultrasound, her spleen does look "irregular".  At her age I can't see opening her up just on a fact-finding expedition so we've elected palliative care consisting of steroids, arthritis medicine, benadryl and  omeprazole to try to keep her tummy happy.  She does still have a great appetite, and today, after 24 hours of prednisone she went for a walk with my husband for the first time in a couple of weeks! So for now, we're stocking up on steak, macaroni and cheese, barbecue, ice cream---all her favorites that economizing has eliminated from our shopping over the last year, but she's well worth it.

What's to say about a great dog?  They break your heart, and you know they're going to, but oh, to cut yourself off from all the love in order to avoid the pain?  All a dog really wants is someone to love, food and shelter, and every one you rescue, rescues you right back. 

Not every person can love a dog, but every dog knows how to love a person.