Not just people

Today, I went home for the first time in three day.  It was a relief to drive into my own driveway.  After assessing the damage of the "winter blast" I realized I would need to find someone to haul off one half of a tree and a substantial limb from another.  Finding a person is really not that hard.  Finding a person who will cut the limbs up to the size and weight specified by the department of sanitation and bind them with twine can be the hard part.  They will drive right by if it it not to specifications.  Oddly, these are the same people who when my father put some recycling in a non-approved container as our other was full passed them up.  My dad had carefully written Al cans on the side.  When I explained to him that many of the sanitation workers did not speak English, he responded, "Al is the international symbol for aluminum."  I had to snicker when these men came by the house and I overheard one say in broken English.  "NO, NO, those Al's."  I do have to admit that I have been known to sneak "heavy" trash into my garbage cans.  Yes, I trick our sanitation engineers from time to time.  It simply blows my mind to think that I can't simply throw trash away.  Several years ago our homeowners association actually sent out a letter to everyone explaining the proper way to dispose of glass.  It has to be bagged and taped.  Really????  How much did that cost???  But I digress.

As I opened the car door I was met with a melodious sound.  OOOOOOOOO, Arf, Arf, Ouf, Ouf,  I tell you the reception I was met with when I opened the door was short of amazing. Growing up I always had animals lots of cats and a dog.  We were poor and my parents couldn't afford to spay an neuter.  But, I loved them all.  When my husband and I got married, he would not let me take my beloved golden shepherd Precious with us.  Maybe had he allowed this, I would not be the animal whisperer I am today.  Our litter consists of 4 dogs and 1 cat.  Upon entering the house Kitten, original huh, met me at the back door and rolled on her stomach.  I reached down and picked her up.  Gosh that purr felt so good to hear.  She is the one whose life has been least altered by this illness.  She is the first cat that has taken a shine to Patrick.  During the day she does not leave his side.  She will perch on the tub while he showers, sit in the recliners in our bedroom while he naps and sleeps on the foot of his blanket when he naps on the sofa.  At night she feels the need to kneed my stomach and legs.  She gets three cans of real tuna a week and is rotten to the core.  Now let me introduce the dogs.  Missy our oldest is our 16 year old Boston Terrier who is deaf and blind.  She is on a special diet because she can't digest animal protein.  I spend a ton of money on her food.  Next is our Pug, Buffy, the Thug Pug.  Somewhere along the way, Buffy became the Alpha dog  and bullies everyone. However, she can be so lovable.  About two years ago, Patrick felt he wanted a male dog to bond with-enter Buddy the rescue Pug.  He is a Roley poley ball of love who is happy just to snuggle with you.  Finally, we have Mr. C.  You know when some people talk of an inheritance they are speaking of a heirloom or money.  Not me, Mr. C was willed to me by my father-in-law on his death bed.  After my parents died I developed a very special relationship with Bob, he became my dad too.  On the last night when he and I were alone, he told me I had to promise to take care of Mr. C (and after a real pregnant pause) and Pat.  Of course, but you are going to get better.  He died the next morning.  Since I got married, we have not done large dogs.  Large dogs, large land mines.  Not into it.  Mr. C is a labradoodle.  When I was growing up those were considered Mutts, now they are designer dogs.  I couldn't help but snicker when the Obama's were considering one of theses beasts for their daughters.  85 pounds of energy and they are not very bright.  Mine has has irritable bowel syndrome and leaves rather large land mines every time we enter the dog obedience classes.  Needless to say, we did not pass.  In fact, I was so mortified we dropped out.  As I opened their kennels they bounded out each jumping and licking me like I had been gone for a year.  We have people come by and let them out twice a day, but it isn't the same for them.

They can no longer run willy-nilly around the house.  They have to say in the den area and only when I am home.  They can't be out when Patrick is out.  They no longer can sleep in our bedroom but must be kenneled at night something they are not used to doing.  But for me they are a source of normalcy.  I know that each day Mr. C will try to steal something off the counter, Buffy will jump up and watch TV with me and Buddy will snuggle on the other side.  These are things I can count on each day.  From them there is unconditional love.  I feel like they know I am sad.  And it is their job to love me back to me.

I guess where this is leading is the fact that cancer effects everything even the least of the members of your family.  Yet, they can be some of the most important.  They can provide a way to relax and feel like you still have control over something.  With Patrick, Kitten has become his buddy.  He misses the dogs but knows one day he will be able to love on them again.  She loves on him and for now that makes him very happy.