inch by inch
toe by toe
gonna make my Riley grow
all he needs is food and bones
and a great big happy hug
yeah!
~Riley's boy
2002
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
a parting verse
you stay
while we go
and we'll be back
before you know
here's a cookie
so you'll know
that we love,
love, love you so
by Riley's girl
and Riley's mum
2002
while we go
and we'll be back
before you know
here's a cookie
so you'll know
that we love,
love, love you so
by Riley's girl
and Riley's mum
2002
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
love is never being too proud to say you’re sorry
The Creator didn’t have to distill Himself into canine form and walk among the canine race to teach us about love, because dogs (and basically all earthly creatures aside from humans) never lost touch with their place in creation to begin with. So don't worry about whether there's a special place in heaven for dogs. Hey! We're still in the garden. We never left. You're the ones stuck on the outside looking in. You folks could have had it just as good if you hadn't tried to be top dog with the Big Guy. We dogs may have peed on the tree of knowledge, but we never actually ate from it. Not having any knowledge of the difference between good and evil, we are not in a position to choose one over the other. Dogs just do what comes naturally. What we were created to do. We hunt to eat. We eat to live; and we mate to ensure the survival of the canine race. Can you imagine how freeing that is? Dogs don’t have to worry about whether or not to climb up on the table and eat your dinner while you’re calling the kids. The answer is obvious. We live, therefore we hunger. We hunger, therefore we eat. We eat, therefore we are full. We are punished in the midst of fullness, therefore we are miserable, sad, dejected. You may think that we are feeling guilty. See how our tail droops and our head is bowed low as we are banished outside. That’s not guilt. That’s just us feeling the pain of separation from our master. When he has forgiven us, and we have been returned to his presence, we will delight in his presence once again. And if he leaves his salami sandwich unguarded we will enjoy that also (Then we'll probably barf it all up again because we're still kinda full from his dinner; but don't worry we'll try to make it to the indoor grass before we hurl). You see dogs understand the true meaning of love.
~Riley
the dog's breakfast (2005)
~Riley
Friday, June 24, 2011
diagnosis: cancer...
Friday, June 24th, 2011:
Last Wednesday seemed like any other. Riley laid on the couch with us watching TV after dinner. At bedtime he roused himself, stretched and headed outside for the last time of the night. He's not much of a lone wolf. He usually does his business quickly, and is back at the door with his polite "mm, mm, mm" whine asking "what took you so long?" On this night, though, he didn't come back. I had to go looking in the woods for him. I brought him in, but he was clearly in a lot of distress, and just kept whining to be let out. I kept carrying him into the house and trying to get him to sleep but he would cry and tremble at the door until I let him out again. I fell asleep by the door at one point and wakened to thunder. I frantically called for him and found him hunched over in the rain trying to empty his bladder or bowel or both with no success. As the long night wore on with no relief I began to worry that he might try to crawl away to die. To keep him close I spent most of the night on the porch, and in the mudroom and back yard with him; as well as walking around and around the green with him in the dark. Needless to say, neither of us got any sleep. I took him to our vet as soon as the office opened Thursday morning and they x-rayed him and tried to drain his bladder with a needle through his abdomen since they couldn't get a catheter in. Our vet sent us to a Vet. Hospital in Copley after his x-ray indicated a swollen prostrate. Poor guy. No wonder Wednesday night was such torture for him. Initial tests and ultra sound seemed to indicate prostate cancer. We all felt as if we had been blindsided. He has always been such a vigorous, healthy little dog that we expected to have him with us for a few more years. We’re not ready to say goodbye yet. It was so hard to leave him at the Vet. hospital last night. He so wanted us to take him home. He kept going to the door and wagging his droopy little tail as he looked pleadingly at us. The nurse kindly took him out the door and down the hall before we left so he wouldn't feel we had abandoned him. Yesterday was such an emotional rollercoaster. I went to bed thinking that even if we only got to bring him home for a single night, so that he could die at home, that would be good news. I just want him to know that we brought him home. I woke up this morning with a feeling of relief thinking I had just dreamed it all, but then the fog cleared, and I remembered that it was real. Earlier today Mike and I discussed what our response would be to each of the possible scenarios. Mike would be flying home from Newport during decision time so I needed to be prepared to give an answer to the doctors when the results came. Riley's immediate need is to have relief from the pressure of a full bladder that can't be emptied. NEVER AGAIN will I allow Riley be in the kind of distress he was in Wednesday night. Mike didn't want to spend an unreasonable amount of money on a dog who had no chance of survival anyway, and who would perceive our abandoning him to the doctors’ efforts as cruelty. We decided that if there was no cancer we would approve surgery to insert a tube into his abdomen so we would have a way to evacuate his bladder (every 2 to 4 hours, using a large syringe). If there was cancer but it had not spread we decided we would still have the tube inserted and possibly do an NSAID and or chemo at home to shrink the prostate to keep him as comfortable as possible until his time came. If the cancer had spread we would try to figure out some way to bring him home, however briefly, before euthanization. The needle biopsy today showed some abnormal cells in the blood/urine withdrawn. Riley's prostate was too hard to get a tissue sample; however, given the rapid growth and Riley's age, the doctor said she was 75% sure it was cancer, and a very aggressive type at that (later lab results confirmed this diagnosis), but luckily there was no indication that it has spread to his lymph nodes or lungs. She said that operating to remove canine prostate cancer is rarely, if ever, done. Canine cancer treatments are generally geared more towards comfort than cure. So Dr. Frank gave him a prognosis of 6-12 mos. with chemo...and this afternoon Dr. Paget gave Riley some new plumbing. He'll spend another night or two in the hospital, but then we get to bring him home.
~Riley's Family
Last Wednesday seemed like any other. Riley laid on the couch with us watching TV after dinner. At bedtime he roused himself, stretched and headed outside for the last time of the night. He's not much of a lone wolf. He usually does his business quickly, and is back at the door with his polite "mm, mm, mm" whine asking "what took you so long?" On this night, though, he didn't come back. I had to go looking in the woods for him. I brought him in, but he was clearly in a lot of distress, and just kept whining to be let out. I kept carrying him into the house and trying to get him to sleep but he would cry and tremble at the door until I let him out again. I fell asleep by the door at one point and wakened to thunder. I frantically called for him and found him hunched over in the rain trying to empty his bladder or bowel or both with no success. As the long night wore on with no relief I began to worry that he might try to crawl away to die. To keep him close I spent most of the night on the porch, and in the mudroom and back yard with him; as well as walking around and around the green with him in the dark. Needless to say, neither of us got any sleep. I took him to our vet as soon as the office opened Thursday morning and they x-rayed him and tried to drain his bladder with a needle through his abdomen since they couldn't get a catheter in. Our vet sent us to a Vet. Hospital in Copley after his x-ray indicated a swollen prostrate. Poor guy. No wonder Wednesday night was such torture for him. Initial tests and ultra sound seemed to indicate prostate cancer. We all felt as if we had been blindsided. He has always been such a vigorous, healthy little dog that we expected to have him with us for a few more years. We’re not ready to say goodbye yet. It was so hard to leave him at the Vet. hospital last night. He so wanted us to take him home. He kept going to the door and wagging his droopy little tail as he looked pleadingly at us. The nurse kindly took him out the door and down the hall before we left so he wouldn't feel we had abandoned him. Yesterday was such an emotional rollercoaster. I went to bed thinking that even if we only got to bring him home for a single night, so that he could die at home, that would be good news. I just want him to know that we brought him home. I woke up this morning with a feeling of relief thinking I had just dreamed it all, but then the fog cleared, and I remembered that it was real. Earlier today Mike and I discussed what our response would be to each of the possible scenarios. Mike would be flying home from Newport during decision time so I needed to be prepared to give an answer to the doctors when the results came. Riley's immediate need is to have relief from the pressure of a full bladder that can't be emptied. NEVER AGAIN will I allow Riley be in the kind of distress he was in Wednesday night. Mike didn't want to spend an unreasonable amount of money on a dog who had no chance of survival anyway, and who would perceive our abandoning him to the doctors’ efforts as cruelty. We decided that if there was no cancer we would approve surgery to insert a tube into his abdomen so we would have a way to evacuate his bladder (every 2 to 4 hours, using a large syringe). If there was cancer but it had not spread we decided we would still have the tube inserted and possibly do an NSAID and or chemo at home to shrink the prostate to keep him as comfortable as possible until his time came. If the cancer had spread we would try to figure out some way to bring him home, however briefly, before euthanization. The needle biopsy today showed some abnormal cells in the blood/urine withdrawn. Riley's prostate was too hard to get a tissue sample; however, given the rapid growth and Riley's age, the doctor said she was 75% sure it was cancer, and a very aggressive type at that (later lab results confirmed this diagnosis), but luckily there was no indication that it has spread to his lymph nodes or lungs. She said that operating to remove canine prostate cancer is rarely, if ever, done. Canine cancer treatments are generally geared more towards comfort than cure. So Dr. Frank gave him a prognosis of 6-12 mos. with chemo...and this afternoon Dr. Paget gave Riley some new plumbing. He'll spend another night or two in the hospital, but then we get to bring him home.
~Riley's Family
Our little dog, Riley, was recently diagnosed with inoperable, terminal cancer. The short nine years and five months that we have had him in our lives don't seem anywhere near enough. He's had a good life, but we want to make sure that his last days, weeks, or months are the best yet, and that we continue to soak up all the blessings that we can from him before he leaves us. To that end I'm going to try to help him gather his thoughts about life, the world, and his place in it (as well as our own recollections of life with Riley) into the following little missives...
~Riley"s mum
~Riley"s mum
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