My mom was fond of saying that when you wake up in the morning, you just never know how your day will end. And not in a "whoohoo, I just won the lottery" kind of way. She was a bit of a pessimist, my mom.
But she was right. Just consider the events of this week.
Sunday morning I enjoyed a wonderful, invigorating 6.5 mile hike with a good friend. I later learned that at a barbecue that evening, she had a near-death experience when she choked on a piece of steak that defied all Heimlich maneuvers. She swears she's still here today only because a higher power stepped in and told her "it wasn't her time yet." I believe her.
On Wednesday, my sister and I indulged in a lazy, relaxing hot summer day at the beach (see evidence in previous post) that felt like a slice of pure childhood. Just hours later, on our way home, we found ourselves stranded with a flat tire on the three-inch shoulder of a blind curve on a crazy-ass, winding, narrow two-lane highway known for speeding and accidents. That sweaty, balding, overweight tow-truck driver never looked so good.
However, today's situation may not turn out so well.
Yesterday afternoon I took my greyhound, Lucy, to the vet. She hasn't been eating lately, which I attributed to our heatwave, but just to be safe I made an appointment. Really though, I wasn't worried; she's always been a picky eater and the 90+ degree heat has killed even MY appetite.
It wasn't the heat.
Blood work revealed a serious, life-threatening liver disease. What, we don't know. If it's an infection, the antibiotics she started today may buy her time. If it's anything else--Cirrhosis, Cancer, Hepatitis--it will only be a matter of time.
I am sick. Sick.
Lucy holds a special place in my heart because she was my mother's dog. When Mom passed away in 2009, I never thought twice about adopting Lucy, even though my townhouse HOA only permits one dog per home and I already had my other greyhound, Elvis. If busted, I would sell my home and move if I had to. Relinquishing LucyBelle, as I call her, simply wasn't an option.
And it still isn't. Only this time I may have no say in the matter.
Sigh...you just never know.
But she was right. Just consider the events of this week.
Sunday morning I enjoyed a wonderful, invigorating 6.5 mile hike with a good friend. I later learned that at a barbecue that evening, she had a near-death experience when she choked on a piece of steak that defied all Heimlich maneuvers. She swears she's still here today only because a higher power stepped in and told her "it wasn't her time yet." I believe her.
On Wednesday, my sister and I indulged in a lazy, relaxing hot summer day at the beach (see evidence in previous post) that felt like a slice of pure childhood. Just hours later, on our way home, we found ourselves stranded with a flat tire on the three-inch shoulder of a blind curve on a crazy-ass, winding, narrow two-lane highway known for speeding and accidents. That sweaty, balding, overweight tow-truck driver never looked so good.
However, today's situation may not turn out so well.
Yesterday afternoon I took my greyhound, Lucy, to the vet. She hasn't been eating lately, which I attributed to our heatwave, but just to be safe I made an appointment. Really though, I wasn't worried; she's always been a picky eater and the 90+ degree heat has killed even MY appetite.
It wasn't the heat.
Blood work revealed a serious, life-threatening liver disease. What, we don't know. If it's an infection, the antibiotics she started today may buy her time. If it's anything else--Cirrhosis, Cancer, Hepatitis--it will only be a matter of time.
I am sick. Sick.
Lucy holds a special place in my heart because she was my mother's dog. When Mom passed away in 2009, I never thought twice about adopting Lucy, even though my townhouse HOA only permits one dog per home and I already had my other greyhound, Elvis. If busted, I would sell my home and move if I had to. Relinquishing LucyBelle, as I call her, simply wasn't an option.
And it still isn't. Only this time I may have no say in the matter.
Sigh...you just never know.
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