Almost Easter weekend and while neither Shelby nor I were particularly religious, we did always take the opportunity (OK, maybe just her) to dress-up in some ‘festive’ attire.

I remember the past several Easter’s when I would set up her photo shoot in our front yard and the passing cars would stop and smile. Shelby brought such CHEER to so many people. I miss her so much. She was always such a good sport (even though she looks peeved in some photos). She would always get so excited when I would break out the box that had her various costumes and collars. It was like a new adventure. Either she didn’t realize she was going to be wearing them OR deep down, she loved the dress-up game.

My cleaning lady came this week and since I never see her, I had to leave her a note that said that Shelby had passed. I know that Shelby loved her (hell, Shelby loved anyone who came to visit her during the day) but that Maribella also loved Shelby very much. She was always so kind to Shelby the few times I saw her with Shelby. She left me this note:

She also opened all the blinds in my apt that I had shut last week in an effort to keep my apt. dark to help me sleep and help me grieve. It’s almost like she was trying to let the light back in to help me heal my heart.

I was off to a decent start this week – sad but not uncontrollable. I felt like I had things 100% under control and felt that I had done everything right by Shelby, including my grieving process. I truly wallowed in grief last week, barely leaving my house, eating things I never eat, not exercising and just laying in bed and crying my eyes out. I felt that it would help me start this week with a clean slate and while, obviously, I would still miss my girl desperately. My job has kept me on my toes this week – I’ve put in almost 9 1/2 – 10 hour days each day – why do I need to rush home? There is no one waiting for me. Until today. The grief of losing two of our other Tripawd friends this week and the upcoming weekend is too much. I started to cry on the way to work. I also noticed when I went to go for a run this a.m., my back was seized up and I couldn’t do it. My muscles are so tight. And it makes no sense; I have drastically cut ALL my cardio in 1/2 and then some. I can barely pick up my purse off the floor yet I spent months picking up at 22 – 24 pound dog! And it clicked – by immersing myself in work, refusing to think about what last week meant, not talking about Shelby at all (frankly, I think people are sick of me being sad so I am putting on a very ‘happy face’) I have pushed all my emotional stress into my body. Now I have physical as well as emotional pain. I am lost without our old routine. I am lost without my girl. She was my identity and I don’t know who I am without her. I feel as though I will never be whole again.

But I also felt Shelby’s strength this week. I felt her pushing me forward. I felt her keeping me tear-free and positive. I saw her in my dreams … twice. Two nights in a row, she came to me. And it was wonderful. And then I saw her banner on the Tripawds website when I logged in. My beautiful girl. Her beautiful face, her colors, her smile. Her joy in all perpetuity.

So as I get ready to spend my 2nd weekend without the “love of my life” I feel hopeful that I will see her in my dreams, find some pennies along the way, and perhaps feel her push me forward a bit more . I still ‘hear’ her at night – I can hear her breathing. I know she is not there but I hear it. Knowing Shelby, she’s probably come back to haunt me in ghost form. Every day, I walk into my apt after work and I look to her bed, look to the bathroom before I realize she is not there.

I’ve done a lot of thinking about Shelby’s actual passing (I’ll save that for another blog) but there is more proof that Shelby was indeed the strong one in our relationship and while she is physically gone, I do believe she remains #shelbystrong

I miss you, baby girl. Always and forever. Until we see each other again, don’t be a stranger in my dreams… it is really the only time I am truly at peace and happy anymore …

I can hardly believe it’s been a week since I sent the ‘love of my life’ over the Rainbow Bridge. While it doesn’t seem any easier, I have stopped crying (as much).  It was truly beneficial for me to have a week off of work to stay home and wallow in my grief. I could barely leave the house – what was the point? I didn’t have to ‘go outside’ since no one needed to go outside to go potty?

Saturday before I was heading out to yet another home-cooked meal (my friends have been amazing since they know I will literally stop eating unless food is in front of me), I got the call that Shelby’s ashes were ready and could they deliver them to me that night. But of course. I needed to have my baby BACK in my home. The presentation was beautiful and they made a little clay paw print of her paw and there was a single piece of fur … Shelby.  An instant peace warmed my heart. I held the box in my arms and cried and  cried and cried. I now talk to the box (several times a day), sit with it on the couch with me and tell it (her) good morning and good night.

I made it through the weekend and found some old disposable cameras and took them to get developed on a pipe dream there would be photos of my girl. And there were. Shelby on the beach. Shelby in hats. Shelby, being Shelby. I don’t remember taking any of the photos or what we were doing at the time but they warmed my heart. We always had such a good time. I really think, though, that we came into our groove and our deep love once we moved to LA over 7 years ago. Not to say that Shelby wasn’t my love the first 7 years we were together but there is something about that tipping point … However, I do recall us driving to Los Angeles in the dead of winter and I put her in the hotel room to run out to get food since I didn’t want to leave her in the car since it was so cold. When I got back to the hotel, she was shaking and scared – scared that I would leave her. Which I promised her, again and again I would never do. I remember feeding her dinner on the bed since we were in an unfamiliar room and she didn’t want to eat. I remember her chewing bully sticks and stinking up my car ALL the way to LA. I remember arriving for our new life in LA and immediately having to board her so I could go out of town for a work trip and then when I finally brought her to our new home … the peace and comfort she felt with her toys, her smells, and her mama.

Oh Shelby … what a life we had. Your mama misses you so much. Your favorite toys were those awful ‘hooves’ with the filling. You broke a tooth on one of them and had to have dental surgery. No big deal. But your mama was a wreck the entire time you were under anesthesia. I remember them calling and asking if I wanted to do any extra teeth whitening or polishing for a more ‘sophisticated look’ – only in LA. They did your nails and on the bill it said “mani/pedi” – not “nails clipped”. We made friends at the local dog park (some more questionable than other). We lived in the Valley where neither of us understood the 105+ heat and the AC unit didn’t work fantastically so I would lock you in my bedroom to try and keep you as cool as possible.

Our apt in the Valley was bigger than the one we shared now. I remember day after day of coming home and finding poop in the bathtub. I couldn’t figure it out. I  applauded your creativity but it was upsetting. Finally, when you vomited in front of me, I got you to the vet and they said you had a parasite infection (thus the excessive pooping in the bathtub). You never wanted to mess in my apt. Before we moved to the beach, we would go on weekend hikes and you loved to ride in the car, loved the smell the dirt path, chased the gophers, absorbed nature. I couldn’t have asked for a better travel companion. We never ran together since I wasn’t a runner when I got you. We did maybe 2 – 3 miles from time to time but never the distance that I would do. You loved to run. You were a sprinter.

Before we moved to LA, do you remember, Shelby, that we would go to Cannon Beach, OR to get some true R&R since your mama worked such long hours? Look at how happy you were … you had an amazing dog’s life – even though I did work long hours and sometimes didn’t have the energy to play at night. But when it was our time, it was the most amazing time! ALWAYS. I miss you my sweet princess. Thank you for sending me a rhinestone yesterday. I look forward to the day when we can be together soon.

It seems surreal that one week ago, today, I brought Shelby to the ER (again) for vomiting in the a.m. and being “off”. Call it mother’s intuition, I knew something was wrong with my girl but had no clue it was so dire. Looking back on what happened, I truly believe it was Shelby trying to warn me that something was wrong so I would bring her to the vet where she would have a violent grand mal seizure (and I wouldn’t see it). That was what started our journey to the end.

In the week almost week since Shelby has been gone, I have gone through a slew of emotions. I have been blessed by a wonderful job that has allowed me to take the week off for bereavement. I have had wonderful friends that have stood by my side and remained constant in their communication either via FaceBook messages,  emails, calls, texts. It’s exhausting and it’s overwhelming. And as great as they are, they don’t all truly ‘get it’. Everyone says to me – take peace in knowing she isn’t in pain. Shelby wasn’t in pain (her vets assured me of that). She never suffered. She was tired. She was weak. She wasn’t 100% happy but she was in my arms and she was content. She wasn’t scared. She knew I was there for her.

Every time I close my eyes, I see the Shelby that I saw right before they carried her little shell of a body away from me. I don’t see the vibrant, energetic Shelby. I always see beauty though. In the end, as I fed her baby food, she would lick at the spoon and miss and get it all over her muzzle and she smelled a bit like baby chicken food. And I would wipe her face. And kiss her face. But she was still beautiful to me. As tired as she was and as quickly as this all happened, she was still my girl

Mornings are weird. I would always get up and check on her and now I will stay in bed for forever with no reason to get up. I ordered food for dinner last night and left the bowls on the floor -the wine glass full and next to it; no concern about anything getting into anything. I dropped part of a chocolate brownie on the floor and didn’t rush to pick it up. When I turn the corner into my kitchen, I no longer watch out for the water bowls. Yesterday, as usual, I would pour my bottle full of water into her bowl before filling it for me. I poured part of the water on the floor out of habit. The bowls are no longer there.

Her beds remain in the same locations. Her toy bin full, except for the few that I have taken to sleeping with. Every time I walk into the apt, I look first at the bed and then at the bathroom.

I sleep, a lot. My body hurts like I have run a marathon. My arms feel weird from NOT lifting Shelby (we used to call them biceps by Shelby). I am binge watching shows on Netflix. I don’t cry as much. This concerns me. I also don’t freely smile. I find myself just staring off into space. Like a zombie. I feel numb. I am going through the motions of living. Right now I am existing. I miss her and think about her every waking second.

My goal for this blog is to try and capture the good about Shelby … I want to remember all her stories. I have dealt with this kind of grief before (the loss of my father) and I know how my mind operates. I will try and block out all memories in an effort to heal but Shelby and I had great times. I thank you Tripawd world for the support, the love, and allowing me to indulge.

This is how I plan to remember my girl:

April 8, 2014 will remain etched in my memory for all eternity. I knew it was the day I was going to say goodbye to my soul mate, my best friend, Shelby.

I went over the vet (ER) where I was prepared to battle to stay since they wouldn’t release her to me for safety reasons. But her favorite nurses were there and they put me in a room. The doctor on-call came to speak with me and I explained I had plans to transport Shelby that afternoon to the beach by my house to let her transition peacefully. She asked me if I wanted to spend the day with Shelby in the room so that was easy. They brought lots of beds in (for her and me). I had snacks with me (they did offer to order me food if I wanted it) and we made it a doggy-hospice. They brought me my girl, who was heavily sedated due to another a.m. seizure but assured me she was comfortable and in no pain and we could wait the day.

So on the floor I went. I layed on Shelby. I smothered her with my love and my embrace and I talked to her. At one point, I put my head down next to her, held her paw and read my book. Time stood still and yet it moved so quickly. Her oncologist came to check on her and say goodbye. We cried together. She told me she couldn’t have seen this coming (the brain bleed) – it is so incredibly rare for them to get it in the brain too and up until it was too late, Shelby had no symptoms of brain issues. A fighter until the very end!

At one point, Shelby’s breathing slowed so much and she was quiet and I freaked out – was I too late? But the nurse assured me that she was in such a deep and comfortable, safe sleep that her breathing slowed. We woke her up (she was pissed for sure) but I wanted to see her face. When I went to eat some baby carrots, she kind of cocked her head/ears in my direction (she was no longer able to lift her own head) so I grabbed her some baby food and she lapped it up. And water. My best friend showed up to sit with us and help me transport Shelby. There was no way she could travel without being held – there was no way she would ever come home; all day, I knew this in my mind but my heart wouldn’t believe it.

The kindness extended to me from ACC (advanced critical care) was like nothing else. I am forever grateful for them allowing us to spend our last day together. They could see our bond was like none other and that I would have done and had done everything for Shelby.

As we drove to the beach, I cradled my girl in my arms. My best friend carried her to a grassy spot in the shade and we set her down. Within seconds, her breathing calmed to a level I hadn’t seen in a long time. She could smell the fresh air, the ocean breeze, the grass… she was in her element. Our favorite thing was to just be outside … getting fresh air. Our LA life allowed us this luxury more often than not. We were there about 1/2 hour before the service that was going to help Shelby transition showed up. They were so kind. They told me how pretty she was. How sweet she was. But they could tell it was her time. They didn’t rush me but I didn’t want to belabor this. I took my girl into my arms and I whispered in her ear “see Shelby, mommy told you she would ALWAYS be there for you and I have made good on my promise”. I kissed her. I told her that I loved her. I told her I was proud of her. And I told her it was OK to go. It was over pretty quickly and I held her in my arms. I looked into her eyes the entire time. She was never alone.

Yesterday was one of the most painful days of my life. It would have been so easy for me to have just said goodbye over the weekend but I wanted to honor Shelby’s dignity. I didn’t want her (if could be avoided) to die in a sterile hospital room. I wanted her to be where she loved the most. And I wanted to be there with her. But it was definitely time. She declined so quickly, no longer able to walk, lift her head, open her eyes… there was nothing there. It was the absolute right decision but the hardest thing I have ever done. I am in shock. I am grief-stricken and while the rational part of me knows that this is part of the process and the incredible pain I feel now is testament to the love and bond that we had. She was and remains my soul mate.

My apt is empty. Yet it still smells like her. Her toys from yesterday, smell like her. My clothes from yesterday smell like her. I can still feel her here. Thank you to the Tripawds for allowing me to share her journey with you. Thank you for embracing us as a member of your family. It is your love and support that will help me heal until I see her again.

Like I have said, I have been a mom for 13 years. It feels weird not to have anywhere to be, anyone to feed or walk. I don’t know what to do with that kind of freedom. It scares me. What I wouldn’t give for one last kiss, one last snuggle, one last ‘selfie’. The hardest part is that my phone is FILLED with photos of my girl. My apt has tons of frames. Her basket of toys is staring at me. I need to explain to our housekeeper why Shelby is gone. There are people in our neighborhood who have seen us walking that will wonder and ask. But right now, I am going through the motions of existing. I am eating because I am told to. I am going where I need to go on a schedule. I can’t make any decisions for me right now.  I am a zombie.

So I leave this blog post with some photos of Shelby’s last hours … because while they aren’t the Shelby I want to remember, they are part of Shelby’s story. My hope that that I can continue to use this blog to remember the wonderful things about Shelby – to continue to always celebrate her life. Because Shelby would want happy memories. She hated tears. They made her uncomfortable. So for Shelby, I will try celebrate her amazing life. And amazing it was … She was so strong. I have spoken to her today but I am sure she’s super busy playing with all the other puppies (like she was known to do and ignore her mama) but she will send me a sign that she’s still with me.  So loved .. that girl. So loved.

Shelby Lynne – October 15 2000 to April 8, 2014. #shelbystrong 

It is with a heavy heart that I even begin to type this blog post. My beautiful girl has fought a valiant fight but it is time for me to give her the greatest gift of all – peace.

It started Friday when she couldn’t put weight on her remaining hind leg. The ER shrugged it off as a tight muscle and I believe them; it did feel tight. I stayed home to keep an eye on her as I felt something wasn’t right. Later that day she started wheezing and backward sneezing. She wouldn’t settle herself so I brought her back to the ER. The leg was tight again but we got it moving. She got an ultra-sound and there was nothing wrong. But still, I felt in my gut, she’s not well. Saturday morning, I went to get her out of the bathroom, after hearing her try and move around all night and she yelped. I moved her out of the bathroom and she pooped on me. Standing. That was odd. I moved her to the bedding and she vomited. But then she was fine, tail wagging, eating happily. Then she yelped when I petted her again and I knew. Something was terribly wrong. I called the ER to let them know we were on our way. On our way out, she vomited.

She was sedate all the way to the vet which could either mean she was so used to going there or she wasn’t feeling well. They admitted her and within two hours, we got our answer; grand mal seizure. They started her on meds but she kept having little seizures. She was put on “seizure” watch and has bells around her neck. I went to sit with her and she ate for me. I felt progress; she was going to come out of this like she always has.

Within 12 hours, she was incredibly sedate due to meds and the seizures and she wasn’t well. I knew our time was limited. I had no idea how limited. They told me they suspect the cancer has moved to her brain and caused a brain bleed. Horrific.

By Sunday evening, I knew I would have to make the hardest decision any pet parent has to make and sooner rather than later. I was hopeful we could wait till the weekend but seeing her, I knew … she was ready. It was cruel to keep her in this condition. She is fighting for me and I can relieve her suffering. She is not in pain (they tell me). She doesn’t really know much of what’s going on. She still likes to sit outside in the sunshine. She can still pee (with assistance). She isn’t really eating much except baby food and I have to wipe her face like you would a stroke patient. I received the week off from work and spent most of Monday with her.

Today is Tuesday and I have plans to release Shelby’s spirit this afternoon on the beach, with the sand in her paws, holding her as I promised her I would do until her last breath.

My heart is broken in ways I never thought possible. I always said this would be the most epic shit-storm and I was not kidding. I have not stopped crying going on 4 days. I can no longer be strong or brave around my girl. When I sit with her, I tell her stories; I told her how we met. I told her about our first trip to the beach. I told her about our trips. And I told her about my daddy. And how he is waiting for her. And he will take her into his arms and he will hold her tight and he will love her unconditionally until we meet again.

Never did I think a dog would be my soul mate. I have been a mom for 13+ years; I have always put her needs first. To realize, I don’t have to rush home for any reason is daunting. I look at her empty beds, bowls, basket of toys and my heart aches.

I’ve been a caregiver for the past 10 months and it has been the hardest job but I do not regret one day we spent together. I have done everything physically possible for Shelby but I am not God; I cannot perform miracles. I am doing the right thing today. My hope is that my heart can meet up with my mind. 

Wow, has it really been three months already? Shelby and I are now almost 10 months into our ‘new life’ since her broken leg, surgery to fix to that, spleen removal, definitive cancer diagnosis (however it was probably the true cause of the break back in June) to three months post-amp! Shelby, for the most part, acts like there is nothing wrong with her. She remains, as I always say, blissfully unaware of her cancer diagnosis.

We had a minor ‘technical’ set-back last week when we discovered through X-rays that her mets had increased in number and size. Enough that her oncologist wanted to start us on a new chemo regime that took 8 hours to administer. My first thought was,  do I have to sit in this cold office for 8 hours?!? I guess I was having sub-conscious flashbacks to when I would take my dad for his treatment and wait. Thankfully, they sent me away and it was good because it allowed me to have a pretty significant emotional outburst, run 7 angry miles and stay in bed all day and sulk about how unfair this all seemed. We are fighting SO hard but this bitch of a cancer is fighting back. I literally wanted to rip into her chest and pull those mets out – each one – and set them on fire. As if they had ‘feelings’. By the time I went to get Shelby that afternoon, I had, for the most part, soothed myself. I try, try and try to remember that she doesn’t know and most days, I wish I didn’t know either. It kind of put a damper on the start of our spring break together.

But the good thing is; she’s had NO side affects from this chemo. If I didn’t see the two shaved wrists from her IVs, I wouldn’t think she got anything other than a day at the vet with her buddies. She has also stopped her intermittent coughing. No nausea, no diarrhea, no loss of appetite. Tired but nothing out of the ordinary. I brought her down to the park Saturday to watch the birdies and she loved it. We’ve spent at least an hour outside each day, getting some sunshine, even though it’s hardly “warm” by Los Angeles standards.

I made her liver snacks Sunday since she is still so anemic and I am trying to fight that too through her diet and the pills they have given us. Not since my father’s illness have I endured the smell of liver cooking. Disgusting! Shelby, of course, was beside herself. At one point, I left the house and went back in to make sure I had blown out the candle I was burning and she was sharking around the kitchen for the liver treats in the oven. She loves them. She only gets two tiny bites a day but they are quickly becoming part of her routine and she expects them. I also made for her in crockpot a cancer fighting turkey/sweet potato/spinach and apple dish.  She WOLFS her meals now. She’s standing firm for almost 2 months at 23.2 pounds – her fighting weight. I am happy she isn’t gaining OR losing weight. To me, that means we are still in somewhat control of this beast.

I took her today for her blood work to check her blood levels after the chemo and they were great so in two weeks, we’ll go back and do another round of this chemo. This might be her 10th treatment. It seems like a lot both physically and financially but it has to be helping her and I have to give her every chance I can to fight. We are keeping up with our mushroom therapy as well.

Spring break, for me, wraps up tonight … I am back at work tomorrow and Friday. It’s been bittersweet – my first kind of ‘stay-cation’. I have done nothing but workout, nap, eat and workout some more. I felt guilty that I didn’t do anything or go anywhere with Shelby but I really wasn’t comfortable leaving town with her. I like to be close to her vets (just in case). And I think Shelby is just happy to have me at home. She does sleep ALL day. Except if I bring her outside for fresh air. I tell myself that she’s resting and healing. As far as my sleeping up to 12 hours  a day, I attribute my extreme exhaustion to the emotional roller coaster I have been on for months now. When I am sleeping, I literally dream about sleeping. My body and my brain clearly needed this rest. And there is nothing like listening to her snore to soothe me.

She is still up more at night – not on her bed and sits behind my couch on the floor. She is also awake. She will snuggle if I want her to. When it is time for bed, she tends to seem unclear as to what to do – she goes in and out of the bathroom, might start there but always ends up either in her bed by my bed or in her bed by the heater. This is our new normal and we have embraced it. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring but I do know that today, Shelby is happy, she is safe and she is loved. And she is spoiled!!! It really is a dog’s life and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Shelby’s going on almost 3 months post-amp and she’s doing fantastic! I continue to worry about her all the time (her coughing,  her breathing that sounds like she’s either congested or breathing only through her nose, when she starts to pant) but overall… Shelby continues to prove to be an amazing fighter. You know how you just ‘know’ when there is something ‘off’ with your child? Shelby has no clinical reasons that her vets would think I need to rush to bring her in (she’s eating normally, drinking like a champ, etc.) but she seems off. Maybe sad?

Shelby has always been the most social dog I have ever come to know. She LOVES all people – regardless. As I have said before, Shelby had long been my travel companion for quick get-away weekends, lunches, happy hour… you name it, she went with me (if she could). Since her amp, I realized I have reduced the number of outings we take. Most of our day to day life is rather “transactional” and going through the motions. Neither of us really stop to smell the roses right now. Partly because of my busy work schedule and partly because of my fear of Shelby getting hurt. But what is the point of putting her through ALL the surgeries (3 total) the 9 rounds of chemotherapy and countless other drugs if I can’t let her live her life? What am I waiting for? She isn’t going to get better. That is the cold hard reality. My dog WILL lose her battle to this disease. I don’t like to think it or say it but it’s the truth. And facing that truth can only help us live MORE in the moment and more in the day … Because at the end of the day, I don’t want to say, “I should have taken Shelby for one last romp on the beach” or “I wish Shelby and I had gone to Happy Hour one more time”.

Shelby’s blissful ignorance to the fact that anything is different in health is a HUGE plus in dealing with this. She won’t look at me and say, not today, Mom, I’ve got cancer. She wants to live each day. She wants to smell the flowers. She wants to be outside. She wants to be a dog! Not a China doll.

I am going on a week of Spring Break tomorrow (and incidentally, Shelby gets a chemo  treatment and X-rays which I am dreading since she does seem to cough a bit more and sometimes it sounds ‘juicy’ and I am hoping it’s just allergies or a cold).  But I plan to take her to Happy Hour this week (weather permitting). We’ll go to the pet store so she can sniff around and get lovies from other people. Because I can see her spirit light up when we are on a walk and she sees a new person – her tail starts to wag, she gets excited and then her damn mama picks her up!!! But Shelby has had about three fainting episodes due to excitement so it scares me. I think that is a natural human trait and as much as I try and be more like a canine, at the end of the day, I am human.

So tomorrow we  go for our last – hopefully – chemo treatment and decide on the next course of action for my beloved. I know I want to get her off the iron pills she is currently on since I think they make her uncomfortable (again, not a medical condition that her vets would notice but as a mom, she is off – she is more anxious/active at night and is taking to sleeping on the other side of the room, away from me but thank GOD it’s not the bathroom). I’ve been feeding her some form of red meat nightly (ground sirloin or carne asada + spinach) but maybe I need to diversify her diet. She is sleeping in living room at night instead of beside my bed (but again, thankful it’s not the bathroom). I think she prefers her little bed in there but if I move it, she gets antsy. Shelby likes consistency and routine (a lot like her mama) !!

And of course – the dreaded X-rays … I am not even going to dwell on that since we already know she has mets in her lungs and our only hope right now is stabilization or slow growth. Everyone who meets/sees/is around Shelby comments how great and amazing she looks at and acts and that she is full of life (and full of belly) and that you wouldn’t know she is sick. This continues to be the hardest journey of my life to date but one that I am proud of. I am proud that I not only have the resources to care for Shelby (I don’t even want to see a grand total on this – ever) but that I have the strength to handle what the universe throws at me. All I ever had to do is look at Shelby and realize how far we have come together in our 13+ years together and realize that we are one of the lucky ones. So fight on we will. Because while I say  #shelbystrong and #dogisafighter – so is her mama!

I know what we all say here about prognosis’s BUT Shelby’s getting a shout out today for reaching her 6 month diagnosis. Shelby’s story was a complicated one and I am pretty sure that evil cancer was living w/in her long prior to her spleen distress and thus removal but it was 6 months ago – today that I received the most heart-breaking news of my life.

When Shelby broke her leg in June, I was still working at a prior job.

I was laid off in July and Shelby and I spent the summer together while I searched for a new job. I was scared but I knew I would be OK financially and I would find a new job that was even better than the last one. Late August, I interviewed for my current job and everything seemed to coming together. I was also getting ready to travel out of town for my 11th marathon (one that I had trained hard for all summer and hoped would re-qualify me for Boston). A week before I was to leave, I was trying coordinate Shelby-care with a friend who had a puppy to see how Shelby, even with 4 legs but limited mobility, would react. Monday (5 days prior to my departure for an overnight trip) Shelby got this look in her eyes – she wouldn’t sit down. She started to shake. I told her she was fine. She was not. I rushed her to the ER where she vomited for them. They said her belly was swollen but suspected pancreatitis. The next day, her surgeon called me to say that she suspected it was Shelby’s spleen (where we had seen nodules before but weren’t as concerned). She said it had to come out.  We caught it in time. Shelby was rushed to surgery.

What was I going to do? I was scheduled to start a new job that following Monday, run a marathon that weekend, and now this? I talked to the surgeon – should I cancel my trip? She asked me why I would do that? I was trained, right? Shelby was fine. She could stay at the fancy ER hospital until I returned and I could visit with her daily. She said she wouldn’t know the results from the spleen until early next week. There was no reason for me to miss the race.

So that was that I did. I left  Shelby at Advanced Critical Care where she has many, many friends and they have wonderful visiting hours. I would go and sit with her for hours … she would just sleep next to me and I was comforted by her soft snores, knowing she was getting some great rest next to my side. The day before I was to leave I got a call from ACC telling me that Shelby had snapped at a nurse (not one that she knew but that was definitely out of character for Shelby). I was worried. Did I need to bring her home? Cancel the run? They said she was fine but wanted to let me know that she needed an attitude adjustment. I rushed over there and in our private room, I gave Shelby a talking too. I explained to her that she needed to shape up, that she needed to get it under control and that she needed to remember that she is a sweet/loving dog. Well it worked -she was a princess the rest of her stay. And that I sat w/her on the floor for almost 4 hours and she slept  the whole time – my poor girl was exhausted.

I ran the race. My friend came over and sat with Shelby while I was out of town. She stayed with her for almost 3 hours – above and beyond the call of duty for anyone – and sent me photos and videos of my happy girl.

My race didn’t go well. I didn’t re-qualify for Boston.  My heart wasn’t in it. I wanted to get home to my girl and no matter what I did, I couldn’t enjoy the race. I was in Boston last April when the bombs hit and I desperately wanted to go back to be able to finish the race and not have it end in the same way. But I will get back there. This just wasn’t my year.

I got home, picked up my girl, and went home. As I prepared for work that Monday, I was blissful, praying that no news was good news about that damn spleen. I went to work Monday and was greeted with such friendly enthusiasm! Finally , a job that valued me as a person and professional. I was so happy. Driving home, I was so happy! I got home and the call came that changed my life. I went from laughter to tears. I could tell the surgeon was upset to have to deliver the news; she kept asking me if I understood what she was saying and she said she would recommend an oncologist. She also told me that it was 1 – 3 months w/out chemo and 3- 5 months with chemo. I was in utter shock.

The next day, I woke up with a plan. I was going to take Shelby with me to Santa Barbara for a weekend like we used to  and then we would see the oncologist. What would two more weeks matter? Shelby still had stitches from her surgery and we couldn’t do anything till those came out. Two weeks later we were on our way up north to wine country. I didn’t realize it at the time but Shelby hated riding in the car, probably due to the fact that her 4th leg was still painful for her. She was a good sport and we had a good time but it was bittersweet knowing it was probably our last time together. Shelby’s leg really started to her hurt while we were up there so I rushed us back home. Of course, once we got home, she was fine!

That following Thursday, almost 2 1/2 weeks after her diagnosis, we had our first appt with the oncologist. I liked Dr. Turner from day one. I try and keep my emotions in check when I am around Shelby but I started to cry when Dr. Turner told me even more dire statistics for Shelby. I told her my dog was a fighter and she would prove them wrong. Dr. Turner told me she would fight for Shelby and that she could see that Shelby was a fighter and that our bond was incredibly strong. She gently encouraged me to try and be strong for Shelby since Shelby can read my emotions – she could see that in the way Shelby would look at me for comfort and reassurance. And off Shelby went for her first of many chemotherapy treatments.

And today marks 6 months … Six months since I first pumped poison into my beloved dog to try and save her life. And while it hasn’t been a bed of roses, Shelby has proved to me, day in and day out, that she is a fighter and that together, as a team, we are fighting against horribly aggressive blood cancer. Like I told Dr. Turner on day one – I will NOT stop until Shelby tells me to stop. I will fight for her until the bitter end and I will always know in my heart that I have done everything possible for my girl. Shelby is not just my dog; she is my child, she is the love of my life. She has always been strong for me and now it is my time to be strong for her.

I thought it would be ‘fun’ to commemorate some of my fondest memories of Shelby … from day one under my care, Shelby has kept me on my toes! To say she is spirited is an understatement. Growing up with dogs, never have I met such a STRONG-willed little dog with a total mind of her own. “Holy Terror” comes to mind when thinking of her younger years.

Recalling a time back in New Orleans when Shelby was still a youngin, I remember going out with a girlfriend and leaving both Shelby and her dog alone in my apt. We got home (late and probably pretty tipsy) to discover that Shelby and the other dog (who was also small – about 12 pounds) had consumed an entire BOX of Frango mint candies (8 oz). Now for those that don’t know, this is fancy, high-end chocolates, not your run of the mill Hershey bar. The chocolates had been on the kitchen counter and since Shelby has always been a jumper, I can only assume she was the instigator who jumped up and nosed them down. They ripped through the packaging (each chocolate is individually wrapped) and devoured the entire thing – leaving a few wrappers.

Instantly sobered up and panicked, we called poison control, who calmed us down and said that if they started vomiting things would be fine. Sure enough, Shelby started to projectile vomit (on me), chocolate and more chocolate. And like that, we had two incredibly hyper dogs – I think Shelby was literally awake for over 24 hours, bouncing off the walls, which was normal since she’s always been a super high energy pooch. Thankfully, everyone was fine and I learned that nothing on the counter top was ever safe from Shelby.

It wasn’t Shelby’s last chocolate experience (she had 2 other and a red vine incident). The funny thing is, growing up, we always let our dogs lick the bowl after we had ice-cream, including chocolate, lick ice-cream cones and not worry at all. It was several years before we had another chocolate scare but I quickly learned that with Shelby, where there is a will (and she has an incredibly strong will) there is a way. Even today, fighting cancer, she remains one of the strongest pooches I know. I am so proud of my girl. I am so glad I walked into that shelter that day and even more glad that she picked ME! #shelbystrong