once again, the good and the bad

this afternoon we met up with a friend of e's and her beagle pedro over at the pond. we drove carver to the pond, parking on the side of perkins street that is close to the beach. carver had such an amazing walk! he was so excited to be there, walking in the water, checking out the other dogs, laying down in the water, being fed pretzels from the kindest little bruiser of a boy I have ever met. being hugged by strangers, running into old friends like mandy and phoebe. it was a wonderful time. I was really marveling at how well he was doing-it feels like it has been a long time since we have had a fun romp like that. with the weather being so sticky carver and I have been mostly going on short walks up and down the street in the morning, then just hanging out in the yard in the afternoons. on the weekends e and i always take him at least once to the arboretum, but the pond really lit him up like nowhere else.

on the way to the "dog bowl", a field next to the pond where all the dogs of jp come to sniff and mark and play, carver fell down, and cried out in pain. I saw the tail end of the fall, but not the whole thing. afterwards, he was visibly in pain in his back right leg. this is the leg that has been giving him trouble over these past few months. it is his left front that is missing, so it is the opposite leg. we managed to walk him back to the car, assisting him at times by holding the handle of his harness, him running at times, which I think he does to push through the pain. I gave him some lunch and 2 tramadol-his first in over a month. e and I headed out to do some grocery shopping. when we came home carver greeted us at the door, but he was trying not to put any weight on that back leg. we have been worried about that leg for some time. it is scrawny, and feels weak. I did not want to think about it further than to say "o.k., bed rest and tramadol for the next few days and we will see how he does" but e gently mentioned that it could be a sign of something worse, the cancer returning or even just his leg getting too weak to support him. a sign of something that will lead us to the next something. as soon as this reality cracked its way into my stone wall of denial, I burst into tears. these past few weeks I have been living under the illusion of "I have finally got this taking care of carver thing down-I do not obsess over him dying, I really am just taking it day by day". but then there I find myself, pushing his illness & impending death away. I am not being present, I am just selectively thinking. often, when I think I am doing well, staying in the present moment, I am not allowing myself to feel anything. I think I have been really checked out these past few weeks. there has to be a middle ground for me between being grief stricken and numbed out. it reminds me of a line from a Rumi poem-"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I will meet you there." I long to find this ground.

I emailed two vets who do home visits today, in preparation for the future. The Irish part of me has been putting this off-it feels like I am cursing myself to even let the thought in, never mind be doing the leg work in anticipation, but the practical (still Irish) side of me won. I would not want to be online, calling a stranger in carver's time of need, in the midst of him, and myself, suffering through the process of his dying. so I sent the emails. I am full of dread. I keep silently sending out wishes to god and the ancestors and spirits, and anyone else who will listen, "this does not mean I want this to happen, it does not mean I am ready, or that carver is ready"-but really, how much control (or pull) do I think I have? praying for me as a little girl always felt more like collective bargaining. now, as a practicing Buddhist and a superstitious lapsed catholic (who makes sure her family knows that she wants last rites, just in case) I have given in to the truth that I just do not know what I believe in, in regards to the after life. I want to believe in heaven, so I will see my father again. but I believe in reincarnation, have felt connections to people and places that felt unmistakably old, older than myself. I feel jealous of the folks on the bone cancer dogs support group, who believe their dogs are somewhere called the rainbow bridge, legs restored, playing together, waiting to be reunited with their people. I would give a lot to believe that in my heart, but I can't. for the time being I have to be content with letting the mystery be.

so, in all of this, carver rests at my feet. the tramadol has made him comfortable. he still came trotting in the kitchen to beg for some of our supper. he ate an extra cup of kibble. he let me poke and prod and move his leg around a bit, but I could tell he wasn't too thrilled with the activity. so I am back to where I started-a couple days of tramadol, bed rest, then we will see how he is doing.