A young dog died today

I got a call today...

A call of anguish and pain and heartbreak.

Rosanna phoned from Guelph, her voice thick with tears, reporting that despite the apparent massive gains made by Tyson after only two chemo appointments, his cancer is so invasive, so virulent that the gains he made are only temporary... his current robustness a blink in time, a sweet, short reprieve .. that in fact, his poor body is so riddled and so damaged, there is no coming back.

For the truth is that I already know as much about my fate as I need to know. The day will come when I will die. So the only matter of consequence before me is what I will do with my allotted time. I can remain on shore, paralyzed with fear, or I can raise my sails and dip and soar in the breeze.

Richard Bode

Anguished and heart-broken, she asks me "was I wrong?"  Should I have listened and accepted that this young dog's fate was to die?  She cries, her voice against my ear, the phone linking our mutual anguish and gifting us with a shared pain.

I remind her of the broken, agonized dog she picked up that day from the THS, his poor body riddled with open sores, his paws raw, leaking blood and fluid.... "remember Tyson NOW' I tell her and we talk, for a moment, about his joyous walks to the park in the last few weeks, how he went from having to be carried from his padded bed to the grass outside and back again, whimpering in pain to the NOW, the jumping for a ball, the frolicking delight of a young dog finally able to revel in young muscles and no pain

Commit yourself to a dream ... Nobody who tries to do something great but fails is a total failure. Why? Because he can always rest assured that he succeeded in life's most important battle - he defeated the fear of trying.

Robert H. Schuller

When all is said and done, life is uncertain.. the paths we take may seem clear but the capricious nature of time and possibilities inevitably obscure and change the clarity of thought and the certitude of destination and all of us, frail humans, struggle to accept and deal with new understandings.

A young dog died today.

But I cannot, will not, believe that the precious time he was gifted with this past month was a waste or a choice made wrong. I will not and do not believe that the short window in time in which a young dog learned the worth of a soft hand, the feel of  grass warmed and crisped by the hot sun, the taste of a dusky, muddy tennis ball was wasted simply because it was limited by hours and minutes that could be counted and weighed .  The reality is that none of us know the moments left in our lives. But to experience the immediate, the "now", to live in the moment and find in it, a measure of peace, a smidgen of joy, a release from pain and a discovery of infinite possibilities is incredibly precious and not to be denied.

Rosanna,  Tatiana and Dishanie were his special angels in this short walk he had on the stage of life.

All of you chose to step over the precipice.. to take that leap of faith - to BELIEVE that he might have a chance - don't ever, EVER feel that was the wrong decision.  You chose to gift that little dog with hope; to confer on him the grace of believing... that can NEVER be wrong.

And as a dear friend also pointed out, Tyson also "taught something to everyone who handled him, loved him, cared for him and cheered for him. Each will have learned something different but in the end all will have learned something and Tyson's fight for life was not in vain."  (Thank you Lynn for that timely and poignant reminder that in the loving, we too learn something invaluable).

That it turned out this way... sadly, that faith and belief and love could not trump the reality of a cancer left far too long by those who had his welfare in their hands long before your kind hands.. but that is not the point of Tyson's life.

He has lived.  And for that, we can can be grateful.

He has been loved. And for that, we can give thanks.

And in the end, he found his way with his angels to see him through.

Written by: Alfred Lord Tennyson

Sunset and evening star,

And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

When I embark;

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

When I have crossed the bar.