Yo. It’s Jake, remember me? With all that is going on with Melvin I was worried you may have forgotten the ‘yo Jake’ part of this blog.
So my brother smells sad, and I guess she can smell it now too cause it makes her eyes drip. Normally if she gets on the floor with us I’m charging her so I can get a good spot on her lap, but lately I have been giving her and my brother time alone. It seems important to her and that makes it important to me. In return, she has been letting me come up on the big bed at night so I have some time with my brother too. It’s been awesome to fall asleep next to him! Although oddly, each morning I wake up in my own bed. Maybe it’s a dream.
It’s not all sad. Apparently Melvin needs to eat more so that means I get to eat more too! She says there is a diet in my future! What is a diet? Is it delicious? I can’t wait!
I’ve been training as a gymnast lately. I can do full splits with my back legs! Sometimes I do a jazz split to mix up my routine. I still have not mastered getting out of the splits though, must need to work my core more. I hope I get a leotard, I’d look so hot in a leotard.
Anyway, just wanted you to know that I’m holding down the fort over here. And she still carves out time for me each day. I’ve been going on my own walks in my stroller, I rule this hood like a boss. She says just wait til I take to streets on my other wheels, I think she got me a motorcycle! I am such a badass.
Over and out, Jake (the best little bro ever. modest too.)
PS. She said to mention that she is working the Pet Expo this weekend in Chantilly, VA. If any of you are local, stop by the French Bulldog Rescue booth, she might be there. I apparently will not be there since I am a menace to other dogs. Whatever.
The outpouring of support for Melvin and I has been humbling. From the comments on Facebook and the blog, to the private messages and emails, the texts and phones calls. We are truly blessed. It is impossible to feel alone in this, we are surrounded by the best of all the people.
A few shout outs..
Chick’s person reaching out with complete empathy having gone several weeks thinking they had the same diagnosis. I felt better knowing someone knew what I was feeling and she had great insight on dietary changes to implement.
Turk’s person, who is still dealing with her own grief, checking in daily.
Moby’s person, who knows all too well how hard a cancer diagnosis is, always reaching out at just the right moment
Kate, who when I asked if she could come snap some photos of Melvin and I, didn’t waste one minute, she showed up only days later
Another ‘Oh’ blog mom who is facing cancer with two of her dog reaching out to let me know she is here for me, so now we are here and there for each other.
Jenn, our soul blog/dog/mama being there, always.
Morgan, who doesn’t know it but her messages come in the exact moment i need a ‘ding’
Deb, who doesn’t pray, but prayed for us.
Jen, for sending support from the farthest away and always making it seem like she is right here.
For Mazzie’s person, giving me pep talks at midnight
and Kelly, for strategizing how she could help from three hours away.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I can never, ever, thank you enough.
There are so many more, if I neglected to mention you, know that it’s due to my brain not functioning properly, not because I don’t feel you holding me up. I most certainly do.
Our story of kindness of today: The vet called in a prescription to a local pharmacy and I went in the next day to pick it up. For some reason it didn’t get filled and they were all trying to find out why. Finally a woman came up to me, and in a low voice said, “the prescription costs $320 and since it’s for a dog, we didn’t fill it because we didn’t know if you wanted to pay that much”.
I paused and thought HOLD THE TEARS IN, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST TALK NORMAL. I said, “he’s nearing the end, so there is really no amount I won’t pay to make him comfortable“. My voice cracked, tears filled my eyes. She smiled, whispered she was sorry and said they’d fill it right away. I stepped aside and about five minutes later the head pharmacist came out. I now the head pharmacist because when you have migraines and a strange blood clotting disorder, you stand in line at the pharmacy A LOT.
She said, ‘every week you are here, smiling, asking us how we are doing. It breaks our heart to hear about Melvin and to see you so sad. We are going to pray for Melvin and for you. And in the meantime, we had a coupon for the medication’. She then handed me the bottle and sent me on my way.
No words. Just deep gratitude for you all.
From this guy too.
And this guy, who just finished his shift at the meatball factory.
One of the first questions the vet asked me when I brought newly adopted (hairless, itchy, allergic to earth, infection riddled) Melvin in was (and this was to gauge the medicinal road we would travel), do you want his life to be measured in quality of life or quantity of days.
My response was, I want his life to measured in joy.
The past (not even) two weeks have been a nightmare. We wished him a happy birthday and the next day we were getting an ultrasound and I heard the term hemangiosarcoma for the very first time. As I was gasping for air, in utter shock, I somehow asked, how long does he have?
Could be days, maybe a month or two.
We got that CT 40 minutes from our house. I have no idea how we got home. I immediately googled it. I joined a support group for parents with dogs that have hemangiosarcoma. All of the words I read were terrible. Grave prognosis. My healthy dog collapsed suddenly and died. My dog lived one week post diagnosis. There were some dogs who lived a little longer, if it was found in their spleen. Melvin’s started in his liver.
Please God, do not let this be happening.
The next week, I barely slept. I cried more in that week then I have in the last five years. I could barely take my eyes off of him. I was so terrified he’d…disappear. I would wait until he was tucked into bed and take the fastest shower. I would run out of the bathroom dripping wet to make sure he was still alive. I refused to leave the house. So many of the stories were ‘collapsed and then gone‘.
Hold onto him.
The vets said in all ways but one, this is the worst of the cancers. (In my opinion, they all suck the same). This one just happens to be the most aggressive, and unrelenting. There is no cure. There are barely any symptoms so by the time you catch it (if you catch it before death), your prognosis is short. The culprit, the tumors grow rapidly, they fill with blood. The tumors bleed and the cancer spreads. Eventually, the tumors grow so big, they burst. And the dog dies. The one thing that doesn’t make it the worst is that it’s not terribly painful, probably until it hits the lungs.
Why is this happening?
Eventually I had to leave the house. It was horrible. Not just being gone and terrified but coming home and having him wiggle with delight only for him to see me burst into more tears. The depth of emotion has been relentless. He’s lost ten pounds, despite getting a lot of extra food. He tires easily and the tumor is pretty big so it takes a while for him to get comfortable laying down. But other than that, he’s pretty normal. It’s impossible for me to believe he could go at any time.
He still feels joy.
It took a week to get in to see the oncologist. In the meantime we had a chest X-ray done to check for metastasis. The lungs looked clear. The oncologist found two things to seem positive. One, aside from his liver values, his blood work was great. Two, his liver tumor was so big that if it was hemangiosarcima, they would have thought it would have ruptured by now.
I had hope. I felt capable again. There was finally something we could do. A CT scan to see if surgery could buy us more than days.
Hope is hope.
I got the phone call this past Thursday evening. I knew it was bad when she asked how we were enjoying the weather. She said the cancer had spread. Despite the X-ray saying otherwise, the CT showed it is in his lungs. And there are more, large tumors in his liver. There was nothing they could do. Melvin has terminal cancer. I felt as if all the air was gone. While she didn’t expect him to die this past weekend, there were no guarantees. That large tumor, the one they thought was too big to be this cancer, well it is this cancer, so… it will rupture. In the meantime, the lung part will eventually start to cause discomfort.
We don’t have much time. We have crisis pills on hand should he collapse, they could slow the bleeding down to buy us a little time to get him to the vet. Typing that does not make it more real. Our holistic vet got us some herbs for us to give him the best general well-being that we can, like energy and balance. And we are continuing the daily doses of Yunnan Baiyao – the Chinese herb that promotes clotting. The very first thing they tell you when you get this diagnosis is to stock up on that.
In the meantime, the support group fills up with stories all day of dogs that lost their battle. No one seems to win this war. I want to post on all those how sorry I am. But the truth is, I don’t want to be part of this group. But that is not who I am, I don’t run away. So I post, and I feel their sorrow and shock and it’s heartbreaking.
The hardest part (aside from the thought of losing him) is that since day one with Melvin, we have been handed health issues and we have strategized and researched and fixed those issues. Time after time after time. We went to the vet 700 times to end up with a cancer with no treatment options. That hurts in a way I can’t put into words. But I know this, we didn’t go through all that to have his life end in crises. To have him collapse and watch as I panic and lose control and freak out. And I would never let him suffer. I just have to find a place between then and now to let him go.
This is my little family.
We chose joy.
For today, well for today both Melvin and I have to ‘live’. I am trying to not worry so much about what I am supposed to do. The only protocol right now is love. I have lifted all household rules. Barking, bring it! Stopping to turn back to see that I’m behind you and making me fall down, yes please! Regurgitating on my lap, thank you sir may I have another! It’s actually amazing all the things I found frustrating and annoying when I thought time was on our side.
I’m happy that I have the opportunity to shower him with (even more) love and adoration and I’m certain that even if I didn’t say it, he feels it. It surrounds him like a cocoon.
And then there is Jake. Jake’s truest love in life is Melvin. I have to get them both through this.
There are moments that Melvin looks at me and I know he knows. I whisper to him that I’m here. That is the best thing you can do in life, show up and be present.
Here is the thing that you guys should know, hemangiosarcoma is not the end of our story. Cancer is just a chapter towards the end of this book. And although we didn’t get to choose this chapter, we sure as hell can pen the poetry. Love lives on, and as sure as I am that Melvin and I will find our way forward through this, I also have deep and true faith we will find our way back to each another one day. And Jake and I will find a way to pay our love for Melvin forward. One day, probably not today though. Today we snuggle
Thank you to all who have prayed, sent good vibes, reached out and showed up. I am so honored that you save space for our story. I’m stronger for all of you. I’m better because of each of you. Melvin thanks you.
We’ll keep you posted. And while it’s easier to focus on what’s to come, let’s instead remember what has led us to this day. His beautiful life, his soulful existence, his delicious jowls, his giant block head and the love. All of the incredible love. Cancer can never rupture the love. Love always lives on.
Because our oncologist appointment got cancelled due to snow, we don’t go until Tuesday. One week post diagnosis of a cancer who’s prognosis is given in days. Eternity. So as worry and overwhelming thoughts take over and lack of sleep combined with so many answerless questions…well just insert lots of crying here.
Then yesterday I watched the boys hunker down for a nap together. And I although I could have been sad that those moments are going to be few, I was actually filled with happiness and joy. Because them snuggling up, we did that. We work at being a loving and happy family and not only was this moment I watched perfection, I had my phone with me, I pushed record and no one woke up. It was lovely.
Then all of sudden, Melvin lifts his arm up over Jake, I swoooooooooon!! PS: if you turn your volume up, Jake’s snoring should make you laugh (or at least smile!).
After the initial few minutes of shock, I asked the vet what caused the cancer. Was it something I did, how long had he had it, did I miss a sign. (In hindsight, I now know that some of the things I saw were not just him turning ten). She assured me that he was almost certainly genetically predisposed, he was likely always going to get it and it comes on so fast that most owners don’t even know the dog has it until they are gone. The dogs remain happy, bouncy and energetic, only showing some lethargy when the bleeds start. It’s almost impossible to ‘know’. If it’s possible to feel better at a moment like that, it did help.
But last night at 4 am, I realized the fact is, someone did know.
All of these photos that I joked were Jake stalking Melvin, were taken in the last month or so. Before that, although he loved on Melvin every chance he got, the photos were different, more of him snuggling with Melvin. These are much more Jake watching over Melvin. This is one of those moments I find happiness in. Having lived a life where I am so in tune with Melvin, I’m so happy that the one time I didn’t get obvious early warnings, Jake stepped in. Dogs don’t speak human, but I have no doubt that the two of them were leaning on each other, patiently waiting until the moment I caught up.
Brotherhood is spectacular! Do not see sadness in this post, see family at it’s finest.
PS. As for yesterday’s post…Thank You. For every comment, for every text, phone call, email and chat. Many of you who reached out have suffered unimaginable loss… mothers, fathers, spouses, children; I appreciate you taking the time to let this moment of mine stand for a minute with all the sad realities in life. I read each comment, paused and felt so incredibly grateful.
Melvin is doing well this morning and Jake is snoring. It’s snowing like crazy outside so we are forced into a day of snuggling. Can’t ask for more in this moment.
Despite my inability to accept it, it appears that Melvin’s time with us will be cut short. I am caught between heartbroken and ridiculously grateful that he is mine. Heartbroken wins out most moments but when I look at him, I’m so proud of our life together. And I’m honored to love him and I’ll be honored to be there for him at his end.
But mostly, I am just crying.
Melvin has been diagnosed with Hemangiosarcoma. It’s in his liver. He has one large tumor and several smaller ones. It is a very aggressive cancer. Most owners do not know their dog has this type of cancer until the dog dies, suddenly. I’m glad we know. I was in the room when they were doing the ultrasound. It was the day after his birthday. The Dr. said: I’m so sorry, I have terrible news.
‘Terrible’ was not a strong enough word. After all we have been through, this is just not how I saw our end playing out.
We have spoken to two vets and from what I understand, eventually the large tumor will rupture. There will be a few warning signs but apparently it will happen rather quickly, and it could happen at any time. Surgery and chemo do not look to be options but we are still seeking all doctors who may know otherwise. Right now I just stare at him non-stop. And since he is always aware of me, he stares back. Jake stares at us both, at the same time.
So to sum it up, it sucks.
Please know that this community of readers, and bloggers and virtual friends gives me strength and I’m super thankful and stronger knowing you are here, there, wherever you are. We are going to live in the now, have as many moments together as we can. Jake will love it, Melvin will tolerate and I will soak in every moment, every touch, every glance. I could not love him more, but in the coming days, I will certainly try. It’s sad, but this is life. And all we can do is make the most of it. The good news, yes shockingly there is good news, is that this type of cancer is not known to be painful. He most certainly does not feel good, but he is not in pain. And when the time comes, I’ve been told it will be quick and he should be relatively comfortable.
I would never let him suffer.
We are accepting prayers for miracles, always! Keep those coming. Since finding out yesterday, I have spent a great amount of time crying and trying to make sense of it all. But this afternoon I am taking deep breaths and thinking that miracles happen all the time. I mean a miracle sent me Melvin, so you really never know! We see a specialist on Tuesday. Third opinion could always be the charm!
Happy Birthday, my boy! I’m so thankful you were born!
Melvin was given up for adoption just a few weeks before his 3rd birthday. There were three birthdays that we didn’t spend together and there have been seven that we have.
He is ten in every way, and I’m fine with that. I love ten. Of course I wish that he had a hundred years to spend with me, but ten, ten is pretty spectacular. While he’s still very exuberant, he’s also earned his moments of rest. Years of happiness and improved health have made for a soulful ambassador of snuggles. He knows how our days run better than I do and he counts on me every much as I count on him. Those first three years of his life, they were a dress rehearsal for a role he was never meant to play. For seven years now he has found his true calling, to be the melody of my heart’s song. I wish he could live forever, but I wouldn’t turn back time, not even one day. Because every day I have spent with him, the good days, the tough days; the days I hugged him, the days we drained each other’s patience… all of those days make up a wild ride, a giant love and a destiny that was always ours. He and I were written in the stars. So while it’s HIS birthday, I’m the one with the greatest gift of all.
Him.
To commemorate ten, we are having the wonderfully talented Kim at Yellow Brick Home paint Melvin’s Eeyore face! Eeeeeeeeek!!! But for today, it’s just lot’s of love from the brother and me!
I have been through the following things with the dogs, in no particular order:
Severe allergies, allergy testing, food trials, giardia, mange, colitis, spinal deformity, collapsed disks, spinal cysts, UTIs, incontinence, meatballs, diarrhea, constipation, yeast infections, ear infections, chronic reverse sneezing, mites, laryngeal paralysis, lung aspiration with potential lung lobe removal, broken toenails, daily regurgitation, happy tail, tail amputation, anal gland infections, hot spots, bad teeth, nasal widening, hyperthyroidism, liver damage, cushings, Ehrlichia, tick born infections, arthritis, legs that don’t work, MRIs, Spinal Taps, ultrasounds and x-rays. I’m sure I’m missing about 50 things.
More than once, cancer has been suggested, suspected and or never ruled out. I have never lost my footing. I’ve cried, but I stood strong.
My greatest heath fear for the dogs, especially since the day Melvin walked into my life, is bloat. Melvin is extremely barrel chested, even more than most other labs we’ve met. He eats too fast, drinks too fast and he combines eating and drinking. Every day or night, I press on his stomach to make sure there is no discomfort. He’s a big dude, it’s not always easy to visually see that his stomach is bigger. Bloat is always on my mind and it is the one thing I will say wholeheartedly that I am irrational about.
This week for our 9,436th emergency vet visit, it was found that Melvin had a minor blockage. They were easily able to take care of it and they did x-rays to be sure they got it all. During the x-rays the vet saw far more air in Melvin’s stomach than should have been there and he had air pockets in his intestines. I knew immediately the words that she was going to say so I just said them myself: Does he have bloat? She said: not at this point, but I’m definitely concerned.
I am not sure I breathed or maybe there was no air or maybe I passed out while still having my eyes open. Then I came to and said: No. I refuse bloat. The vet looked at me concerned, worried that I might think it was optional.
The vet said it was reason for concern but not to the point that they should do the procedure to clear the air. He was in a grey area. I brought him home with 10 things to watch for.
Once we got home, I stared him in the eye and said three things. 1. No matter how much time we have, I will love you beyond eternity. 2. If you die, I’ll kill you. 3. Dear bloat, F-off.
While Melvin definitely did not feel good last night he has improved a lot today. We are waiting on the blood work to come back (to also try to answer why he lost six pounds in a month) We will go back later this week to take another look at the air situation, but for now, all is good!
I’ve mentioned before that I get migraines. The kind that try to kill me, I’m useless for 36 hours, head and stomach in agony, and sometimes have to go to the ER. Many people have asked how I manage the dogs on those days.
Sometimes, I have help. On the days I don’t, well, I do what mothers of humans do, I get up (even when I’m sure that I can’t), I make it downstairs (it ain’t pretty) and I get the dogs out and fed. With a 36 hour migraine, this often has to happen 3-4 times. I will say, on those days, I curse the day I moved the dogs over to a raw diet.
The boys, well they are crazy good on migraine days. Even better than they are on normal days. To be honest, I think they like migraines. I say the words ‘mama doesn’t feel good’ and they assume the position. They can go much longer without potty breaks and they really champion the sleep time.
Of course anyone who has shared a bed with dogs knows that they must be up on you at all times, and sometimes you are pushed out of the bed during one of their sideways stretches. Since migraine days mean extreme nausea for me, I had to come up with a solution that said ‘it’s snuggle time’ but also ‘I need you to stay over there’. So I got their bolster beds, the ones that have a pillow insert and I took the pillow part out and put the bolster part on the bed. This way they are on the bed but there is a barrier to me. (I also used to do this with my sister using duct tape. Only back then, if she crossed the barrier, I’d go tell on her). I thought I’d have to train them to stay in, but they got it right away.
Here they are demonstrating:
It worked so well that sometimes I use it on normal nights to keep Melvin on a section of the bed, not occupying the entire thing!
Mr. Snuffleupagus was my first boyfriend. The reason he was my first love is because his was the first butt I ever saw on TV, so I assumed that he was my boyfriend. Relationships were so much easier back then.
Jake has a love affair with the furry blanket on the couch. He moans to come up on the couch so I lift him and then he spends a lot of time burrowing into the furry blanket. I tried to help him a few times and he didn’t appreciate it (he got out from under the blanket and started over). He likes to do it his way, even though his hind legs makes it take forever. When he is doing this, my mind can’t help but go back to that first love of mine.
Video and photos below of my new favorite Mr. Snuffleupagus, complete with butt shot! Some of the funniest parts of the video (especially the second video are the breaks he takes and then the burst of energy that comes after).
I love sleep. I don’t have to sleep in, I don’t have to go bed to early. But when I’m sleeping, I’m silently so happy. Jake loves to sleep too. I think his choices in life go: Melvin, sleeping, me. I’m fine with that.
Then why is that Jake and I bond every night at 3am? Every night. It’s because his pee machine or the meatball factory turn on at that hour. While dude is sleeping. He wakes up in a panic and that wakes me up and the bonding begins. I have tried EVERYTHING to move this nightly occurrence to morning or earlier in the evening. I have fed him at 10pm, 4pm, smaller evening meals. Meatballs at 3am. I have withheld water after 7pm, still there is pee at 3am. What the… Almost every night when it happens I think of the Dunkin Donut commercials: the guy who gets up at 3am and says, “time to make the donuts”. For us, it’s crap. Literally.
I get up, get him cleaned up, change out his bedding and do a load of laundry. By then it’s usually 3:30. Also by then, I’m wide awake. Jake is usually back asleep the moment the new bed hits the ground. There are some nights meatballs happen first and while I’m putting that laundry in the washer, the pee machine has ruined the new bed I just put down. Those nights I say words that would shock your soul (I say them to the night, not to Jake).
I have tried, everything.
We tried a crib mattress so that clean-up could be quicker (just the change of a crib sheet). He can’t sleep that flatly though, it seems his wrecked spine is most comfortable when his body is more relaxed and curled and not flat. He does better in a bolster type bed.
I tried puppy pads on top of everything. The first thing he does is remove them from everything or ball them up into a pillow.
I have tried taking him out at midnight.
As mentioned, I have tried feeding him at every hour during the day and minimizing water intake later in the eve.
I feel super strongly that he should not wear a diaper at night (and a diaper wouldn’t help with the meatballs anyway) because I don’t want him laying in a full diaper. At least diaper-free in a bed, he can get up and move. And just in case you have a similar issue, he is gated off in a corner of the room with industrial carpet pads down and then bath mats over that (easier to wash). Gotta keep the production contained.
This is the point in this post where you can get ready to say ‘wow, she really has tried it all’. You may also gag. I even learned from the vet how you can ‘encourage’ a meatball moment to try to get him to go before bed. It involves a q-tip. Ugh. It worked once. Now he’s immune to it. I can honestly say it felt like a huge low trying to do it, but if it had worked, I would have championed the hell out of it.
So. Any suggestions? More wine? Yes, I agree!!!
Why do you keep chanting ‘meatball time”? You know we do that at night. Common woman, focus.
If something bad happens, I am the person who will show up. I will hug the hell out of you and I won’t leave until you are ready for me to go. I will take your phone call 24/7. When you are crying, I will hand you a tissue and deny that you are a hot mess but instead say how lovely you are with swollen eyes.
But I am also the person who will insist that guide you to move forward. When I’m hugging you, I will say ‘we will get through this’. When you call at 3 in the morning I will suggest we brainstorm on ideas how it can be made better. As I hand you the tissue, I will try to make you laugh. I believe that life is meant to be lived in a forward trajectory. I’m sure I can be annoying at times.
It’s no different with the boys. Jake’s legs slide into a jazz split every ten minutes. I don’t say ‘poor baby’, I say ‘carpet’ and then I guide him to carpet so he starts to learn that he has more traction there. Also, steps, cause him tremendous trepidation. I get it. But him doing steps is good for him, it works his upper body and it forces his brain to use all it’s juice to will those back legs to move. In fact, going up the steps is when his legs work best. So I could carry him, but instead, I stand at the bottom and I tell him he can do it. And if it takes 10 minutes for him to get going, well then it’s ten minutes well spent on my guy.
And when he’s going up the steps, he inspires the hell out of me. You got this Jake!
Jake follows Melvin everywhere. If Melvin runs and barks, Jake shuffles himself into a semi-run/drag and follows along. If Melvin shakes, Jake shakes. If Melvin drinks water, Jake is suddenly parched. I’m just glad we don’t live next to a bridge.
I have to give it to Melvin, he lives through some pretty creepy moments with grace and understanding. If Melvin lays down, Jake waits a few minutes (it’s very calculated) then walks over in a ‘oh don’t mind me’ sorta way and sits down next to Melvin.
The thing is, Jake is not a silent or hidden stalker. No, he sits right in front of Melvin’s face. He then waits for Melvin to fall asleep. Yeah, not scary or creepy at all. Then one of two things happens.
Jake will slowly lower his body in the wrong place, like directly on top of Melvin’s face, or across his torso (why, Jake? Why?). If that happens, it’s over. Melvin gets up and moves as far away (sometimes to higher ground) from Jake as possible. Jake then waits 4.7 minutes and goes to start the process over.
Or, Jake lowers himself in a less threatening way and Melvin allows it and joy rushes over Jake.
The wheelchair issues are improving. I’m much better at getting Jake into it anyways. Some days he will move around in it (still in an attempt to outrun it) and some days his (front) feet are firmly planted and he absolutely refuses to move. He won’t even look at me and if he does, that singular eye could burn a hole into my soul.
Net, net: he’s still getting used to is. It’s OK, we got nothing but time.
Exceeeeeeept for one small, teeny, tiny setback. The other day, while he was in the cart in the backyard, on a session when he was actually moving a bit. He rolled down the hill. It was less rolling down and more rolling over. I yelled in slow motion, ‘what’s happening?!’ and I have never seen his eyes get so big (I mean can you imagine them bigger)?! I ran over and got him upright. He stood there and if looks could kill, you’d be reading my obituary, not this post. Suffice it to say I tried to get him to move again (getting back on the proverbial horse) but he was done.
I obviously have no video of that, but here is some video of him standing still. I put treats all around him to encourage movement. Nothing. He is so flippen STUBBORN! So now we go out back, in the cart, on-leash. He is much more willing to move with what I’m assuming he considers to be, his safety tether.
Max and Melvin never really bonded. They only had two months together. Max taught Melvin what he could and Melvin crashed into Max 4,356 times.Their story was short but sweet. When Max died, Melvin did look for him, but I never sensed he felt a loss or was otherwise upset. I think he was more just curious.
Fast forward to today. Jake cries if Melvin leaves the room.
While Melvin does not outwardly show Jake an ounce of affection, he tolerates Jake with a level of patience that only comes with true love.
I’m tremendously happy that they are a bonded pair. It’s all I wanted. But then I think about fostering, about adding a 3rd dog. Is the balance something that should be protected or should it evolve?
I have no idea. But I think about it a lot. I’m approved to foster for the rescue group that I got Jake from. I’ve never been called up but since I’m type Super A, I have a plan ready. The only uncertainty is when, and what the hell will happen to the equilibrium. Then there are moments I see this (below) and think, wow, I want her. No seriously, I really want her. I mean for goodness sake, her name is Wigglebut! I look at her and all I see is love.
There was a balance when there was just Max. But it came time to welcome a new dog and I upset the balance because I also committed to forming a new balance. And there was a balance when there was just Melvin and despite Melvin and Jake not loving the other on their first meet and greet, I knew it could work, so we took it slow and now…
I wrote and shared the the post below last year, just about this time. Enjoy the flashback, The Love, and happy weekend!
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I never thought I’d love another dog as much as I loved Max. I thought, he’s ‘the one‘. The one that will always own my heart. Then came Melvin. Never have I been through so much with a dog. His joyful existence and soulful ways, they stole me.
He’s the one. I mean I can’t imagine I could love another dog the way I love him. He has taught me a love I didn’t know before.
Then I look at Jake.
I think all along I’ve had this whole thing wrong. The one may not be the dog.
The one, may be the Love.
It’s where you put your heart’s load. It’s the bond that you can’t imagine being without. And that love, is supposed to move and grow and leap. It doesn’t take away from those that came before, in fact I think it represents them, it carries them on.
Six years ago, although I didn’t realize it, it likely went a little like this in my heart: Melvin, this love I’m giving you is Max love, it’s crazy powerful and happiness inducing and well I can’t NOT give it to you because well the universe took Max but gave me you and this love, this love needs to go on and you deserve this love, you have left your own mark on this love. This love, it’s yours now. It always was, it always will be.
And I probably did the same thing unknowingly last year, with Jake.
You have a dog and you love them and you give them your love and they are meant to feel it, to fuel it, to nurture it, to own it and then, in a way, to give it back to you as they go. I can say with absolute certainty that in my last moments with Max, he communicated two things to me with a single glance. I know you love me and I need you to love this way again.
That one love, is infinite.
I’m not sure what inspired me to write this post. I think a little of it is that Melvin is turning nine this weekend and I have started accepting that the lighter color fur on his face, is in fact gray. I think it’s also because, when I look and Melvin and then to Jake, my heart is full. And when I think of Max, the love is there still. How lucky are all of us that THE LOVE goes on!
