jillsalahub

Obi died 10 years ago today. Even now, I just noticed myself resisting the memory of it, some part of me saying, “don’t go there, it’s too painful.” Obi was diagnosed with lymphoma at just seven years old. Lymphoma is one of the most curable cancers in humans, but in dogs, while it is treatable it’s ultimately fatal. Obi’s initial prognosis was somewhere between two weeks to two months if we did nothing, and because he had T-cell multicentric lymphoma, his chances were even worse. We did chemotherapy, (he was our first dog and other than a barely swollen lymph node in his chest, he was perfectly healthy, AND we had the money so we felt like we should). He went into remission for six months, but the cancer came back before he finished his protocol. Since we knew we were fighting a losing battle, and any extra time was really for us not him, we spent the next three months spoiling him and watching him really close to be sure he still wanted to be here.

He had been feeling worse for a few days. When you have a dog with a terminal illness, one bad day isn’t enough to end it, but two days in a row when you already know you are at the end is absolutely more than enough. He’d been drinking too much water, couldn’t seem to stop himself. Eating was making him nauseous and he was so gaunt, slow, and tired. Looking in his eyes made it clear. He really wanted to stay, to be here with us, but he was just so tired, so done. I had told him all along that he needed to let me know when it was too much, and he did.

My camera broke the night before we let him go. This was back when I only had one camera, and no cameras on our phones. I’d dropped it face down on our concrete patio, the lens was bent so it couldn’t close and it wouldn’t turn on. I panicked and immediately made a plan to go to Target and get a new one, then had a moment of clarity — rather than waste my time and energy on getting a new camera, taking more pictures, I could just be with him.

The last picture I took of Obi and Dexter before my camera broke on that last day

We still miss you Big Dude, but now it’s more happy that we got to love you than sad we had to lose you. This kind of grief never really goes away though, you just wear it and carry it for so long that it gets a funny, awkward sort of comfortable.

The day we adopted Obi, April 20, 2002

1. Morning walks. With Daylight Savings Time, we are actually doing part of the walk as the sun rises. I know it will only last for another week or two before it’s dark again, but I’m enjoying it for now. This morning we saw the big buck and two bald eagles, and Ringo wants you to know he almost got a cat and got to carry a stick for a bit.

2. A day “off” after a week with a lot of people-ing. This week was packed with dates and appointments and phone calls that needed to be made. For an introverted hsp, that’s exhausting, so I’m happy that today walking the dogs, doing the laundry, maybe making some muffins, and writing this blog post is all that’s on my schedule.

3. Kitchen counter love notes. Hopefully Eric and I can hang out and rest this weekend, as he’s had a busy week too.

4. Good friends. I have three in particular that I see regularly. They are smart, funny, kind, creative women always down to spend some time writing together, going to a movie, or just hanging out talking about everything and nothing.

5. My tiny family. In a few weeks, Ringo will turn six years old, and a month later, Sam will officially be ten and well on his way to being our oldest dog yet. Being able to spend more time with them is one of the best things about being “retired.”

Bonus joy: even though my washing machine randomly beeps while it cycles and that can be super annoying it still works, breakfast burritos, a super soft sweatshirt my brother bought me for Christmas one year paired with a super soft pair of pj pants my aunt bought me another Christmas making the perfect stay at home on a cold day uniform, even though I’d read lots of criticism about this season of Great British Baking Show we enjoyed it just as much as always, good books (I finished Maya Angelou’s autobiographies and now I’m reading James Baldwin’s Giovanni’s Room), good TV (even though there are many things that are irritating about it, HGTV’s House Hunters series is a relief to watch when things get too complicated), good movies (went to see Harriet yesterday and now I want to know everything there is to know about Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad), sunshine, sitting under my infrared heating pad and my favorite blankets after a long walk with the dogs.