The Big Guy knocked down our wall again.
We don’t know if we have the strength to rebuild it.
Odie came, and we fortified; Leo arrived, and we built it higher; Paco appeared, and we built a moat around the wall; Dirty Harry landed, and we fortified more.
When Dot came, we realized that maybe walls aren’t always the answer.
We thought the wall was working for Dot. She was a senior dog who battled cancer. And she kicked ass. When we questioned if building the wall was worth it someone mentioned Dot, and we nodded. It is working for Dot. She is spending time with Mama Michelle.
Cancer is evil. It sits back and patiently waits. Often, as it lurks, the doctors can get it and chase it away forever. And sometimes they can’t.
Dot fought very hard to keep cancer in check. She loved her mom, maybe even more than her mom loved her. That kind of love is hard to measure. No one has invented something that can measure that much love. If love were enough, we would live forever.
But love isn’t enough.
When cancer lies dormant emotions abate. We think Dot is all right, so our prayers wane, our worries abate. That is what cancer waits for, that moment when we start to believe.
Then it strikes.
It struck Dot this weekend. Her cancer moved into her throat. Swallowing became too painful. If we can’t swallow, we can’t eat. And if we can’t eat, well, there isn’t a wall strong enough to keep you from the Rainbow Bridge if you can’t eat.
In the span of a day, Dot went from holding cancer in check to the Bridge leaving her poor mom Michelle devastated. Her little, constant, faithful, companion of a decade and a half would no longer be by her side.
At least in physical form.
If the wall doesn’t work, we have learned to find another way. Thanks to Leo finding the path back to our parents we have honed our skills. Dot arrived, was welcomed,counseled hugged, licked, listened to, and when she was ready, she was fitted for her wings and Leo was leading her back to Mama Michelle.
I saw wish you knew she was there Mama Michelle, but she is, especially when you are at your lowest. She wishes she could snatch the pain away. Pain is cancer’s cousin. It lies in wait and the latches on to you when you are the most vulnerable.
We are going to have a meeting about rebuilding the wall. Maybe we will think of something new.
Our goal is to try to take just a touch of mourning all parents feel when their babies go their final home.
We will never stop trying, Moms and Dads, we promise.