Embracing Life

Embracing Life.   One of the many writing groups I belong to offered that theme for the members to follow in their next article.  Honestly, I don’t even remember what group this is.  But I do remember that title.  Embracing Life.  We’ve heard that phrase all our lives.  I never thought I didn’t embrace life.  I never considered if I did embrace life.  But I have recently come to realize that embracing life may have little meaning unless you also embrace death.

Those who know me are aware that one of my hot buttons, one of my lifetime issues, is protecting children and animals.  If we adult humans realize nothing else in our lives, we surely cannot ignore the fact that our children and our domesticated animals are completely dependent upon us.  Ergo, we are obliged to extend every kindness and consideration to these beings that trust us so completely.  That’s my buildup for the rest of this story.

Last Saturday I inherited a dog, actually a puppy.  There was a sad story behind this, there always is, but I’ll spare you.  Basically, I agreed to assume the care of a three-month-old Chihuahua pup that I was told was not receiving appropriate health care.  My friend had just lost her job and had to find another; she could no longer care for this little creature.  I met the dog owner in the parking lot of my neighborhood PetSmart (how fitting).  I approached her car as she was getting out of it, and was taken aback by the tiny lump of flesh I saw in her hand.  This three-month-old dog was smaller than the size of my friend’s hand – my less than five-foot tall friend’s tiny hand.  In her other arm she was loaded down with items that were coming along with the dog:  a few cans of prescription dog food, a large bottle of Pedialyte, an electric heating pad, a receipt from her local vet documenting that the pup had just received its first basic puppy shots, and a small vial of meds for de-worming. She put the pup in my hand; it was just short of unconscious.  It was starting to rain heavily.  An accident on the highway was causing major traffic jams even in the surrounding neighborhood.  So all I could think of was getting safely home.  I did – barely – in five times the normal time it would take me.  I hope my friend got home safely.  The whole time I was driving with one hand, holding this unconscious little thing just under my chin with the other hand.  Once I got home, as I carefully unpacked my passenger and accompanying stuff, the words echoed in my head:  Embrace life.  Oh God, I’ve got another dog!

The whole weekend was dedicated to nursing this little dog.  A quick look verified that she was a female.  Four limbs and a tail, and nothing seemed broken, but the legs were toothpick-thin, soft and floppy as rubber bands. 

I was surprised to see her struggling to open her eyes when I was softly cooing to her.  I’ve seen enough Chi’s to know that they often have an eye problem where one eye is a little off angle.  I was a little worried because one eyelid was not opening fully. 

The shape of Chi’s heads is often an important marketing issue.  They come in the dear-shaped head and apple-shaped head.  This little girl was an apple head.  But I thought I saw some bruising in areas.  Very scary.

I had to explain to my sister/roommate that we now had yet another dog.  Not surprisingly, she was not thrilled.  When I explained the whys and wherefores of how we had another dog, she seemed to understand (surprised relief on my part).  We both knew what its name would be, a name she had been saving.  New dog would be called Junebug.  (My family use pet names over and over again.  That doesn’t seem to bother us.) 

And the ritual started.

Every hour it was a ritual of feeding to bring this little dog to a state of something approaching normal.  First hour she would get half a syringe of Pedialyte.  Sleep.  Next hour she would be spoon fed the formula food.  I diluted the food with a splash of milk, which made it easier for her to lap up.  Sleep.  After a couple of hours, my sister made the observation that Junebug had not done any “business” and offered the brilliant suggestion of putting a puppy pad in the bathtub.  Junebug took to this arrangement like she was flying first class.  It was the first time I saw her use those little spaghetti legs.  She sniffed the pad to get that built-in scent and knew just what to do.  A little pee stain appeared.  Poop?  No, not yet.

I weighed her on my food scale.  Less than a pound.  At three months!  Although not surprising if you saw her.

So, just like a newborn, it was eat and sleep, drink and sleep, the occasional potty service, only no diapers.  And that was my entire weekend.

I took a vacation day on Monday.  First item on the list was a visit to our vet.  Hate to be a negative non-life embracer, but has anyone noticed how outrageous vet service prices have gotten?  Or is it just me?  By the end of this visit, we’re up $200.  But why dwell on the negative.  By Monday Junebug weighed one pound.  Like everyone who saw her, the vet was shocked at Junebug’s size.  But the exam brought more serious news.  The bones along Junebug’s skull had not fully formed and closed.  Like some babies who have a soft spot for a little while after birth, Junebug had the same problem, but the vet said this was the worst case she had ever seen.  She said there was nothing protecting the brain.  The dog could hemorrhage.  She was saying a lot of things and I was trying to make myself listen.  I truly can’t repeat a thing of what she said after that.  But I remember quite clearly her warning that this little dog could die at any time.  She wasn’t saying it to be cruel or scary.  She wanted me to know that even with the best of my care, this dog could still die.  I asked if she was recommending that I euthanize the dog.  She was very careful in her answer.  She wasn’t saying that the problem could never be resolved.  She was honestly saying that the chances were slim.

So, that was it.  That was the challenge.

Embrace life.  Yeah, I believe in that.  But every coin is two sided. 

Embrace life.  Be aware of death.

I continue to care for Junebug, and will continue for as long as I can and as long as life is good for her.  But I am constantly aware that Junebug walks the line of death every day, every hour.

Well, that’s the story.  Now I’m thinking, so what’s your philosophy Pam?  Are you advocating the embracing of life?  Are you saying the fear/pain of death is too much to bear?  You know, sometimes life doesn’t come with a philosophy.  You’re handed a bucket full of life and you have to deal with it.  Some of it slops over.  What’s left in the bucket isn’t always pretty.  I guess the best philosophy is try not to have an empty bucket.  As long as there is something in the bucket, then there is life worth acknowledging.  And if that’s the way we embrace life, to just keep on living the best we can, then I guess that will have to do.  I wish life and the act of embracing it could always be like a big-budget movie.  But sometimes its as ordinary as getting up in the middle of the night, several times in the middle of the night, feeding a three month old puppy, watching her go pee, and hoping she will go back to sleep so you can also.  And secretly hoping that she’s alive in the morning to start the process of embracing life all over again.

I may feel differently tomorrow, but that is what life is giving me today.

• Gather friends:  I have learned that all of you like pretty pictures to go with your reading.  These photos are nothing great.  Junebug was either a lump of protoplasm or too squirmy to get a good photo.  But I include them for your pleasure.

• And I always feel uncomfortable when people tell me how good I am for doing a good deed or when they feel sad about my tragedy.  I can’t believe how nice y’all are all the time, but honestly, I’m not telling you all this to show off how good I am.  Believe me, I don’t feel that good right now.  I’ve got three dogs who think I am a traitor for bringing this foreign “thing” into their household (never mind that she is a FEMALE).  And I’ve got one little girl who is just waking up, and already whining for her next meal.  I’m looking at about another month of doggy motherhood.  Yuch!