Empty collar, silent toys and a hole in my heart. The Last Battle
If it should be that I grow frail and weak
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then will you do what must be done,
For this -- the last battle -- can't be won.
You will be sad I understand,
But don't let grief then stay your hand,
For on this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship must stand the test.
We have had so many happy years,
You wouldn't want me to suffer so.
When the time comes, please, let me go.
Take me to where to my needs they'll tend,
Only, stay with me till the end
And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time you will agree
It is a kindness you do to me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I have been saved.
Don't grieve that it must be you
Who has to decide this thing to do;
We've been so close -- we two -- these years,
Don't let your heart hold any tears.
~ Unknown
I wasn't looking for another dog. After losing two old dogs in a six week span, I wanted time to recover, but three months later, he found me. He was a matted mess of hair, hard to tell which end was which, except for that swishing tail. He had been lost or more likely, dumped and had been on his own for some time. He had the art of begging for food perfected and with a college campus, had quite a few sympathetic sources for his meals. But he limped a little and smelled awful. Nyssa knew, so did the dog... I have the word "sucker" written on my forehead. He followed us to the van on that last trip with the dorm debris and when I offered him a seat, he graciously accepted. The dog was friendly enough, as long as you didn't try to comb out his matted fur or touch his paws. He had a collar, but no tag.
(Clockwise from upper left) Max, the day he "found" me;
After the first trip to the vet; Max with his first toy; Lounging in luxury.
At the vet he had to be sedated to be examined, and for good reason. His nails had grown into his paw pads and they had to be cut out and the infection irrigated. His coat was hopelessly matted and shaved off in large chunks. The wet fur left him with several patches of raw and infected skin and he had heart worms; but he was neutered and most likely dumped by some thoughtless human. After his treatment for the heart worms, he came home...home to his air conditioned dog house, padded lounge chairs and regular meals.. along with the obligatory biscuit treats, head rubs and squeaking toys. "How old is this fellow?" One vet thought he was about five and later on another thought he might be a bit older. It didn't matter. In a matter of two days, he became ours... he became Max. (short for Maxwell)
For a long time, Max had nightmares and would cry and wail and yelp as if some horrible creature were after him. Sometimes there was no trigger, but most often it was a siren in the distance. Had he been in a fire? Could that be how he got lost? Finally, these last three months, his nightmares stopped and sirens no longer made him cry.
Max loved his toys and his chew bones, but most of all he loved his basketball.
Max loved to play fetch, except he never wanted to give you the ball back. He wanted you to take it but would pretend he was fierce and growled if you tried. But if you were quick and grabbed it from his grip, he would jump and prance with joy, waiting for that next toss. I always tired out first, so Max would sit and entertain... growling at his ball, then tossing it up in the air or nudging it with his nose, then running to grab it as it rolled away. Yes, he loved those basketballs.
Max never dug in the yard, he never chewed shoes or tore up plants or chased the cats. Max never met a dog he didn't like, but he was a staunch protector of his humans and always kept himself between us and anyone who invaded his yard. He was a connoisseur of comfort in his heated doghouse with the linoleum floor and covered porch. He had a fan for the summer heat but preferred to be with his kitties in the air conditioned sunroom. Max was an expert at getting what he wanted, even figs.
Max and his ever present basketball.
We had only been together for two and a half years when Max first started getting his large skin nodules; on his chest and sides and back.... all over. They were malignant, high grade, poorly differentiated... lymphoma... of the skin. We were referred to Dr. Brewer and Max started on a long road of chemotherapy. No IV's, just a pill in a big lump of dog food... right up Max's alley. He always did his hoot owl impression all the way there and was quietly happy all the way home. I think he conned the girls out of a lot of doggy biscuits. He took the chemo like a champ, never had a low platelet count and, wonder of wonders, his nodules went away... all of them... within four days of the first treatment. This was his life for almost 16 months... a chemo pill every three or four weeks, then a CBC, then one or two weeks off. He was happy, he was fat, he played and ran and talked to his dog friends next door, he barked at the lawn man and stole figs from the tree... no one would ever suspect he had cancer.
Then in June the nodules started coming back, but they didn't look the same or feel the same. So around the first of July, he had two taken off and they were malignant, but now, a different, second type of cancer. This time they were high grade, poorly differentiated mast cell tumors. It took longer for his incisions to heal but he was as bouncy as ever. Now, Dr. Brewer added another agent, an IV shot for two weeks and then his regular pill and a rest for two weeks. The one remaining nodule finally went away on this new plan, but more slowly than the lymphoma. Max did well in July and August and most of September, but his appetite would sometimes be off and he tired out more quickly playing fetch. He preferred his waterbed inside in the cool sunroom.
The last week of September, Max didn't want his biscuit and I knew something was wrong. We tried to give him Pepcid AC as the mast cell tumors can cause stomach ulcers. It became harder to get him to eat and he simply wanted to lay on the ground and sleep. He started limping and yelping as if his leg hurt. On October 1st, I spent most of the day trying to get him to eat a few bites of food, but this dog who would dance for his supper and inhale it within two minutes just a few weeks before, sat with six different offerings off food and even chunks of steak and just looked at it.
Our last day with Max. Saying good-bye.
Max was to get another round of chemotherapy on October 2nd but I knew it was time. Max loved to eat and he couldn't. He was uncomfortable and couldn't run and play and another tumor nodule had appeared in just the four days. It was time, before he was in so much pain he couldn't move, before he became too weak from not eating.
The staff at Dr. Brewer's office were kind and gentle. They placed an IV in his paw and wrapped it so Max and I could have time together; as much time as I wanted. We sat on the floor on a blanket and I rubbed his head and his ears.... he kept a firm grip on his basketball the whole time. I called them in after a half an hour because my resolve was weakening, though I knew this was the best and kindest thing I could do for Max. I held him close in my arms and told him I was sorry I couldn't fix this and that he was loved so very much and he didn't cry or shake, but just relaxed, fell gently asleep and was gone before his ball fell from his mouth and hit the floor. I sat and held him for a long time afterwards; he was so soft and still and I didn't want to leave him. The tech came and gently gathered his body with the blanket, his pillow toy and his old favorite basketball. Max was cremated with his favorite things and we will scatter his ashes in the woods behind the house along with a few biscuits... his favorite kind.
I was... and still am, a basket case when I see the empty dog house or his leash or carrier or just a picture, the tears come and I can't stop them. He may have been just a dog to some but he was a friend to me. Max made me laugh when I was down, he would sit and nudge his nose under my hand and look up with those big eyes and just seemed to know how you felt. Knowing how neglected and abused he was in his former life, I wanted to give him a life free from care and with abundant love. Four and a half years was just not long enough to make up for all the misery he suffered. He deserved so much more.
Dr. Brewer's office sent a bouquet of lovely flowers, so beautiful and thoughtful. They will miss him too ... the big goofball...Max!
Max (birthdate unkown - 10/2/2007)
A big-hearted, free spirit... gone too soon. 
"Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince,
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!"
~ Horatio (William Shakespeare's Hamlet)
(end of post)
Entryway before.... "Progress, of the best kind, is comparatively slow. Great results cannot be achieved at once; and we must be satisfied to advance in life as we walk, step by step." ~ Samuel Smiles (Scottish author, 1812-1904)
Progress here is slow. It feels like we are moving things from my parent's house to the new house, three or four boxes at a time. OH!!! Right!!! We really are moving things only three or four boxes at a time! Some of the boxes are running out of labeling room and it is very confusing to see "Box 19...Attic", "Nyssa's Books", "Lorane's Cookbooks", and "My Study" on one little box. Long gone are the organized labels listing the specific contents of the box. We are rapidly approaching the saturation point, where we can handle no more boxes until the furniture is here, we need the furniture to put the boxed up stuff into. My goal is to have their furniture here in the new house by October 1st... then we can unbox and clean the old house and have garage sales.
But progress, though at a snail's pace, does continue... I have begun to hang pictures, trying to remember that this is my brother's house and we have different taste's in some things. I decorated my home with photographs of family, most specifically... Nyssa. I did have one huge still life painting that I "won" in a contest I didn't even know I entered. It was ugly... actually, it surpassed "ugly" and made its way on to "ghastly hideous", but it filled a space on my dining room wall. It is now in the garage sale pile. (Stephen is very happy about that.) I did hang this picture over the piano in the entryway. It was the one year I really splurged and the photographer worked with an artist to create this oil canvas over the photo.
Today.....
OH! Yes! And I have mowed the grass FOUR times and haven't set off the security alarm once!!!!
Time flew past... way to fast.
(still trying to do better... end of post)
A view of our preserve land... please ignore the yard!
(Click pictures to enlarge view) "There are those rare days of late summer; perhaps ordinary circumstances don't necessarily go right, but mother nature grants you a glorious memory. If only you had manicured the weeds before her visit." ~ srp
Sorry about the yard; I have since done another mowing, my third since the first of July. It had been over 30 years since I mowed the lawn this much, not since high school. I discovered that if I turn off the sprinkler system, the weeds don't grow as fast... but then neither does the small amount of grass that still exists. Thus the conundrum.... "To mow, or not to mow... that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The disapproving looks of neighbors at outrageous weed growth
Or to take arms (and legs and knees and carpal tunnel wrists)
against a sea of crab grass and broad-leafed wild grass
And by rotating mower blades end them.
To mow, to sweat profusely (buckets full) --
To sweat -- perchance to draw the attention of mosquitos (no perchance about it!.....slap!!): aye, there's the rub."
~ srp's soliloquy
Eupatorium purpureum or Sweet Joe-Pye Weed,
attracts these butterflies (Sulfers, Family Pieridae)
Feasting side by side....
....or at a table for one.
(end of post)
Brother and sister rest in sunlight and shadows. (Rhett & Scarlett)
(Click pictures for larger view) "The present is the ever moving shadow that divides yesterday from tomorrow. In that lies hope." ~ Frank Lloyd Wright (1867-1959)
This post was supposed to be for the Saturday Photo Hunt back near the first of July, but things got really busy and haven't let up much. So, being tired of my boxes and my parent's boxes and Nyssa's boxes and moving things to the old house for garage sale and to the new house for unpacking and from and then back to William and Mary and to the garage for... well, everything, I decided to go ahead and post it. Never let a good picture go to waste, nor good quotes either.
I think the cats are going to like it here. There is always a sunbeam somewhere in the house, unless it is lightning. They will not like the thunderstorms here; unlike the cocoon of the small rooms and the den with no windows, they will not be able to hide from the flashing streaks and the thunder. Did someone ever say that golf courses seem to attract the lightning? There has probably been a study somewhere on the subject.
Norfolk Botanical Garden "I look out the window sometimes to seek the color of the shadows and the different greens in the trees, but when I get ready to paint I just close my eyes and imagine a scene." ~ Grandma Moses
I had never thought about the color of a shadow before, but it's true. The shadows cast by the midday sun are inviting shades of blue and green and brown, all the earth tones. By contrast, the shadows born of the street lamp at night or a dim light in an old dark house are gray and black and quite creepy.
"Mine! Mine!" says the seagull."I have a little shadow
That goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him
is more than I can see."
~ Robert Louis Stevenson
In the bright sun, this (obnoxious) seagull has a distinct shadow. Sometimes I wonder if they ever think it is another bird following too close. Max barks at his shadow and chases it back and forth at times. Perhaps the gull can perceive its shadow, or not..... just a thought to keep "boxes" out of the head.
Shadows on the water....Williamsburg, College Park."Most people think that shadows follow, precede or surround beings or objects. The truth is that they also surround words, ideas, desires, deeds, impulses and memories." ~ Elie Wiesel, (Nobel Prize for Peace in 1986. b.1928)
What memories were being made by these shadows? A quiet day, warm but not hot... time spent gazing into the water, watching the leaves float by on the marshland, the sound of geese overhead... a rest before the whirlwind of excitement that always surrounds a college girl.
By the way, I could update on Nyssa. She spent her summer as a resident assistant at William and Mary, while she traveled almost every day to the eastern shore to work on her senior research at the Virginia Institute of Marine Science. The professor and grad students were impressed enough to let an undergraduate in their lab... labs are hallowed ground for researchers. Her work is in using sediment analysis to predict hurricane history in an effort to study the strength and cycles of storms. Of course the samples are from Antigua and the group had to make a trip down to procure more material. They found grant money for her to go with them, so she spent a glorious week hauling a boat over marshland, getting stung by bits of sea nettles (from jellyfish) and having the time of her life. They cataloged, processed and packaged the samples for shipment back to the states and she will continue her work this fall.
She also helped immensely with the clearing of the storage unit.... I could not have gotten that job done without her! Yeah! Nyssa!
"When walking through a warm and lush forest setting one's thoughts can easily take flights of fancy. It is not difficult to shed the layers of modern life and find one's more subtle or primitive beginnings. Somewhere from deep within the spirit and majesty of each single tree steps forth and at once one can find themselves transported to a world of shadow and shade." ~ Morgan La Fey
Oh! And here she is, resting in the shadows of a huge tree in the Brooklyn Botanical Garden last summer. She looks a lot cooler than she actually was.
So there are my "shadows", better really, really late than never I guess. And now...... back to the boxes. (Groan!)
(end of post)
It has been a while since I updated on Mom's knee. For a while it was very uncertain; she had that additional trip back to the hospital for over a week with cellulitis and a hematoma around the incision site. Then back to the extended nursing facility for only a few days. Since then she has had home therapy with the physical therapist two to three times a week and things have made progress. Her surgeon did a special scan to look for infection inside the bone as she was having a lot of pain just below the knee, but that is clear and so her exercises continue. Soon, she will start the outpatient part of her therapy and those two guys really work her hard.
She has ventured out and now with her cane she has come to the house twice and has even gone to Linens 'n Things to shop for her bedspread and to a blind shop to look for her window treatments. But this picture is from an outing to the Norfolk Botanical Garden. It was cooler and a breeze was blowing so I took them to the rose garden. She was still on her walker then but put on her shades and one of Nyssa's childhood Sunday hats and this is the result........
Pretty spunky, hey!?
(end of post)
