Where I go, You Go

Good morning to your toy!

Dear Pepsi,

I was so happy when we woke up this morning and you were so chipper. I have to admit, I was scared last night, you seemed so tired I carried you up the stairs. I told Rena how terrified I felt about the chemo and the thought of loosing you. I am here alone I told her, and Pepsi's wellbeing rests soley on my shoulders. I want to be sure I am always acting in your self interest. I felt dread again when I gave you the chemo pills. I took you to class at the mural site and you pulled me to greet the students. As always, you were the star of the show with everyone wanting to pet you. When it was time to leave I had to lure you to the car. I know what everyone is thinking - how can a dog so apparently healthy and active have a terminal disease? I have no answer and it infuriates me. What I do know is your spunk and joy are contagious, and you bring a smile to everyone who crosses your path, which is a lot of people since where I go, you go. 

Greeting mom's students at the mural site

Our next stop was Staples to buy a printer. You stroll in like you own the place Peps! The sales staff and customers bend down to pet and talk to you,  gushing over your good looks and personality. I realize how much fun it is to be with you most of the day, having so much quality time together. I feel guilty for leaving your sisters at home but somehow they know something is up because they don't even bark anymore when we leave the house. Dogs never cease to amaze me, reminding me it is a mistake to underestimate their capacity for understanding, and you are certainly no exception. We made one more pit stop at your favorite park for you to run and do your business, which I am more careful than ever to pick up because of the chemicals in your treatment. It was a brisk fall day, almost blistery, with the colorful fallen leaves blanketing the grass. I dug my hands in my pockets and  watched you roll around in the grass and trot across the park. I closed my eyes and lifted my head towards the sun, inhaling the fresh air. I wanted to freeze us in time as I thought This is as good as it gets, watching Pepsi be happy. 

Staples printer shopping

Enjoying the park

I came home to work for a few hours before our vet appointment. You climbed on the chair and watch me work in between napping. I like being able to turn my head slightly to the left and seeing you. I feel so grateful to be able to work at home most of the time so I can keep a constant eye on you. I give you some kisses, listen to you breathe, and your stomach growl. Time feels dense now, thick and potent. Its as if the tide could turn at any moment, therefore I am at a heightened vigilance.  I want to fold as much of you as possible inside me so you will never really leave me. And even when you do leave, you will not really be gone.

A funny thing happened this afternoon while you were on your chair. I looked over and Pandy was cuddled next to you. Strange I thought, you typically never share that space, maybe for Pearl, but not for Pandy. You seemed happy enough with the arrangement, not jumping out of the chair as you usually do. Only the FedEx driver leaving a package caused you both to pop up and dash downstairs to bark. I could watch you three go about your daily lives in this house and be perfectly happy and amused. I used to long for travel and now all I want it to stay home. Before long it was time to go to the vet and then class, and you were excited to tag along once again. The check up at your regular vet was more of a conversation about unfairness, the particulars of cancer, but mostly about how important your quality of life is. When we got to class you walked around looking for attention, which you received in droves, then off and on you laid down and dozed while the students gave their presentations. Each time I got up to address the class you followed me. It quickly felt like a routine we had been doing all along, which is good because you are my sidekick from now on because where I go, you go. 

 Pandy cuddling with her sis

Tomorrow is the day they say we can begin to see how you are really tolerating the chemo. Tomorrow is a no pills day so I am hoping you do as well as you have been thus far. Because of you I am staying present and taking nothing for granted. Just hoping. Nothing wrong with hope, right girl? 

Let's see what tomorrow brings sidekick.

Love,

Mom