"My heart has joined the thousand for my friend stopped running today."

Last night at about 6:50 pm, Luna Belle Lovelace, truly the best dog in the whole wide world*,
died in my arms here at home in her own bed of what I'm pretty sure was finally heart failure.
We'd had a fairly quiet day, in and out several times as usual. She had a good breakfast and spent most of the day sleeping right here beside me while I caught up on my WWDS** work. At one point, while she was in her bed and I was in my bedroom, she called me with a little grunt. It reminded me of her howl-songs, so I wondered if she would sing again. I started singing and she began to sing along. I ran and found a tape and tape recorder, and managed to record a little mini concert of us singing together one last time (Chris also has some video of her from a year ago that he showed me last night while we were sitting shiva. We watched and listened and cried and cried...) We took intermittent breaks to go out and one long-ish (for her) walk in the mid-morning to enjoy the sunny day. It was slow going, and she was fair tuckered after, but she seemed in great spirits. I remember noticing that her eyes seemed especially clear yesterday. After I finished up my work, Chris came home between jobs and was sweet to both of us. After he left, she made it pretty clear that it was 'hammy time'*** and I had it in the pan, preparing to warm it for her, but I could see her desire and impatience so I fed it to her cold right from the pan. She ate it all but the last two or three little bites. She then went and stood by the back door, giving me the universal sign for "OUTSIDE!". Instead of needing to wee, she seemed to want to wander - fine by me - and the neighbors had built a little fire down by the river, so we went slowly over. There were other dogs there (Sugar and Lucky. She knows Lucky, 'cause we see him and say hi on every little stroll) and she lay down on the ground between my feet near the fire and visited with them while I talked to the neighbors about - guess what: how pretty and smart she is (one of them has little grandchildren whom Luna obsessively guarded while they were playing in the river this summer), and how hard it is to go through the loss of a dear loved one. They all petted her and were sweet to her. We were there maybe 15 minutes, and when it started getting on dark, she seemed too tired to get up, so the kind man who owns the 'river park' let me put her up into his beautiful brand new trucks' leather seat and took us both home. I got her up the steps with a little effort and then I just carried her to bed and lay her down. I went in the kitchen to prepare her next round of meds and I heard her groan and make a sound like she was in pain. I'd never heard that sound before and so I ran to her. Her little hind leg was tucked under her kind of funny, so I assumed she was hurting because of that. I straightened her legs for her and checked her out well to make sure she hadn't been injured and she seemed to relax, so I went ahead and gave her her meds. I sat with her and stroked her little head until I could tell that she was getting comfortable and nodding off and then I went and sat on the couch to read. I probably didn't get through a whole page even before she groaned again and rolled over onto her side. I went to her and held her little head and realized almost immediately what was happening. I put my other arm around her and soothed her like I do when she is dreaming. She began to gasp for breath and I softly sang her her favorite song, and within seconds, she breathed her last breath while I held her in my arms. From coming in from her walk to her death was maybe 15 minutes, no more than 20. What little severe pain she had was very brief - thank you, Goddess.
I called Chris to come home, and his boss kindly let him go (he's a nice guy, and he and his wife are serious animal lovers. They have two cute little tiny sweater-dogs). Then I started calling the family. Chris' folks came and sat with us and prayed with us. We wrapped her in a pretty blanket that came here with us from Ms. and is Egyptian royal colors with suns and moons and stars. After they left, we lay her in the kitchen (we figured it was coldest by the back door). I kissed her little nose one last time and put white candles around her (they are still burning now, they burned all through the night) and lit incense and held hands and said the sweet sad words that Richard Adams gave us.
Chris then told me that the other day he'd told her "Luna, there's an island out there for you somewhere, just keep swimming."
She did, bravely, fiercely, joyfully and now she has found her island. She was a bright, beautiful happy beloved girl, the true light of my life, and up until one month and one day before she died, she was always healthy (since she was a tiny pup, right after I first got her, she has never had to go to the vet for anything other than her routine shots and checkups) and happy and you could tell that she loved her adventurous life. She had nearly 11 years (April 11 would be 11 years) of all the goodness that I and the world could muster. I will never forget her, she will always be with me. I have been so blessed by her and I truly can't imagine how I will manage without her. She is the best thing that the Universe has ever seen fit to give me, and I will be grateful for these last 11 years for the rest of my life.

This morning, we take her to the vet and they will arrange her cremation. When we get her ashes, I will cast them on her beloved river and - if nothing else - be happy that she is finally completely free and part of the things she loved the most. When I said this to Chris he said "the thing she loved second most, Sam." If I was first, and sheer gratitude can make you worthy, then I was worthy.
Now, onto one of the toughest things I've ever had to go through, even tougher than this last month, the time after Dad and Robbie died, and the the particular horrors of my growing up - life without Lulu. "Things will never be the same without Lulu..."
-s

*It's true. It's carved in stone outside the Polk County Public Library in Columbus, NC. Several years ago, when I did the painting to raise $ for the new building, the Friends of the Library thanked me for raising so much due to raffle ticket, greeting card and poster sales, I shamelessly reminded them that anyone who donated 50$ or more (and blessedly, the painting generated WAY more than that) and asked if I could have a brick. They said certainly. I didn't have to think for even a second about what message to put on it, I didn't have to. I'd asked knowing what I wanted and so it says:
"Luna Belle Lovelace
Best Dog in the Whole Wide World
xoxox"

**For those of you who don't know, I've been working for this wonderful organization since last August. My job consists mostly of walking (so I was often able to take baby to work with me...)
although there's a considerable amount of other stuff that goes with it - office type things, community interaction, writing press releases, etc. I really like it.

***doo-doo-doo-doo, doot-doot, mm-mm doot-doot, mm-mm doot-doot, can't touch this...

It's hard to say it, type it, even think it. Her days are getting short. Very short. She is in bad shape, and to be perfectly honest, I'm not much better. She had a steroid shot on Saturday a.m. to help with the swelling, but today her little face is so swollen that she doesn't even look like Lu. It's the coldest that it's been this year, so taking her out is tough. If she makes it to the weekend, it's supposed to be warm again. I've been taking every possible opportunity for her to lie in the sun. She doesn't walk really well anymore either, but she still has the desire, it seems, and she has not hesitated to splash into the freezing river if I'm able to get her down the bank. I'll !#$% carry her down there if I have to, if that's what she wants. Her appetite is getting worse by the day. She refused warm fresh baked ham today - but she had already had a bowl of chicken, so maybe that's why. I will try again with the ham in a bit. I am keeping her medicated for the pain and giving her herbs and tinctures to help her lungs and sleeping. I don't know what else to do. I can only hope it's all the right things, that I'm not making it worse, somehow. The vet assures me that I am doing the right things, but I wish she could tell me what she wants and needs. I've thought several times "today is the day" but then either my lack of ability to let go or her sudden interest in ANYthing has convinced me otherwise. I only pray that I am not being cruel by keeping her here past the point of sensibility.
Speaking of 'past the point of sensibility', there's my condition as well... but then I think that's for another post. I'm not ready for that either. Let's just say that I'm not me either. Or maybe I'm all me. I'll explain more when I can. For now, it's meds time again, and another attempt at ham-therapy.
If you can hear me out there, please send us your love and prayers. It may not seem like we're in touch here, but we get the messages, even if we're not able to answer right now.
-Sam

The traditional saying is "Happy New Year" and I know that it's supposed to be spoken as a wish, a'la "Merry Christmas" and "Happy Birthday" (though it really is almost command-like, innit?) but the way it looks and sounds to me, it seems as if it is supposed to be a statement of fact. Good people always ask "Did you have a good holiday?" and though it pains me to do so, I can't just say "yes" if it's not true* so this year, every poor kind soul has had to hear the truth. No, it's not been good. My baby is dying, and it's a slow and painful death that is exhausting to her and us in every possible way...

I think the wish needs to be re-phrased. "I hope you have a happy new year/holiday/birthday..." so that it is clear, and you're not just left standing there, not saying anything but a shallow mumbled 'thanks' and feeling terrible because you know that the truth is that you are miserable, and your misery is compounded by the expectations of joy that surround you on such a holiday - along with the knowledge that it will be that much harder to let time muddle the edges from the pain, because you will remember everything that much more clearly, simply because it all happened during such a marked time - a time when the command is to be happy, really.

I'm sorry. It's not all bad. Lu is having a rough morning. Her breathing is labored - even though her swelling has gone way down - thanks to the good doctors at Landrum Veterinary Hospital.
However, we had a joyful evening all together last night, with Uncle Stewart and Uncle Jay visiting and playing games and being extra sweet to the puppy. I hadn't realized how isolated we'd become in the last month, because we can't leave her alone, or even with a friend for any length of time, because her care is often strenuous, delicate, tedious or messy. It was so good to have two good, understanding friends come over on a night when everybody else in the world is doing something symbolic and/or extroverted and be with us all. It was a refreshing drink of water that everyone of us here at 25 Wall road really, really needed. We laughed and had conversation and never had to be out of sight of the sick baby, who was able to be warm and comfy in her bed most of the time. This morning X ventured out for bacon to compliment our waffles (and Luna's increasingly picky appetite**) and soymilk for our coffees, and we are going to curl up and have a lazy, breakfasty morning followed by a lazy chinese soupy afternoon (I went to the asian market yesterday and stocked up on all our favorite things). I figure seaweed will be our traditional greens, and we'll have soy beans instead of black-eyed peas, and still have all our superstitious southern bases covered. Chris has to work this evening, but not until 4, and only until 8 or 9, so he can still have a relaxed holiday evening after work.

So, although happiness is not a blanket fact, it's still a hope, and a possibility. Despite the misery, there are little sunny warm spots of happiness to be found. I hope I don't miss any of them. Enjoy your loved ones, be together if you can, and may there be warm sunny spots, even if your happiness is not guaranteed.

much love,
-s

*Usually, I can say yes, because I generally make an effort to have a good one, if I am able - and I am usually able.
**She's down to ham, bacon, chicken - and for some odd reason, chinese soup with tofu and shrimp and veggies - all which have to be heated for her to be interested in - and little catfood nibbles. However, if she's in the mood to eat, she will still eat well, so it's worth the effort.

I'm not sure if any of you are still checking in - who could blame you, seeing that I haven't posted in nearly four months. I'm sorry. Life has been more kookoo than even usual. For those of you whose concern and/or curiosity has spurred a check-in, thank you. November was both busy and our little hand-me-down pc was badly infected with !#$% Spy-vs-Spy-ware... !#$%&! Thanks to xmas bonuses, we were able to buy a nice software kit that came highly recommended from good sources and just got back online today. Hootie hoo. I've missed you all. :)
This last month has been one of the worst of my life, even worse than last years' holiday horrors that began in October 06 and, in some cases, still haven't completely ended. Ironically enough, on December 3 (a day that's always at least a little hard for me - it's my mother's birthday) we found out that our beloved Luna Belle* has lymphoma. In just a few days she went from a seemingly perfectly healthy, young-for-her-years lively active pup to a very, very sick puppy indeed. I won't and can't go into details now, but I am pretty sure that, before all is said and done, I will need to...
As for now, it is nearly midnight on New Years' Eve, and even though she is sick, she is still loving the love, so I am going to go pet her and soothe her and give her her midnight meds and spend a little time with my Guy/Human sweetie before bed. I've spent one night in a bed in the last month, otherwise, I've been on the couch near her or on the floor next to her. We even spent one night outside because the cold air seems to help her labored breathing, and if sleeping outside in December (on a drizzly night) is what it takes, then so be it.
Love your loved ones. "And instead of saying all of your goodbyes - let them know
you realize that life goes fast, It's hard to make the good things last. You realize the sun doesn't go down, It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round..."

I hope your new year is all that you need it to be.
Much love,
-s

*There are lots more links to her in my comic than I could fit here... you should look through them and play "Where's Luna" she's not in every one, but she's in most and hidden in extra places in some...