Good-bye California…Hello Oregon!

Wickersham Park in Petaluma, where we spent so much time over the last 6 months...farewell!

The Relo-Cube... which is hopefully right now en route to Portland with all my belongings!




Ali and I are leaving California and moving to Portland... tomorrow! I have been too busy preparing for this big move to write anything about it, and I will keep it brief. Suffice it to say that after living in Petaluma for six months I am very happy we are moving on. There are many reasons why Sonoma County has not been working. And although I loved San Francisco (except for the commute!), moving back there is just not an option anymore because 1.) Every dang place has stairs and 2.) Rents are way too high for me to live alone, and with Ali's condition I am just not prepared to risk another Craigslist experiment and move in with total strangers. Luckily for me, ALDF has a secondary location in downtown Portland and I have been granted permission to transfer to this smaller office. Although I am daunted by the thought of starting all over again with Ali in a new city – not to mention one where it never stops raining! – there are many reasons why I feel this move will be a good one for us. I recently found the perfect apartment, too, which seemed like an auspicious sign. It's an affordable one bedroom, totally on the ground floor (no more steep ramp for Ali to negotiate), carpeted (so Ali won't slip), and in a nice neighborhood within walking distance to lots of great stuff, including a park. We are leaving tomorrow morning; the drive is about 9 hours. Big moves are always difficult, especially when doing it alone, but luckily I have amazing friends to help.

Most importantly, the improvements Ali has made over this last week are nothing short of amazing. His right leg is taking full steps in the cart now. I was able to get an appointment for Ali to be seen one last time by Jackie, the rehab specialist at UC-Davis, before we moved. I was hoping she could suggest some new rehab techniques for me to try now that he is starting to take steps. She basically said to keep doing what we are doing and to continue underwater treadmill sessions if possible in Portland. More soon…I have to finish packing the van. Wish us luck on our new adventure!

Hope.

Swimming at the Russian River on Labor Day went really well. Ali had a blast, as usual. Thank goodness he loves tennis balls so much - the compulsion to retrieve them keeps him excited to swim and swim! I believe I mentioned the amazing physical benefits of swimming for a dog in Ali’s condition, but the psychological benefits are also immeasurable. A few days later we had an appointment with the underwater treadmill and Ali took a few steps in a row (unassisted) with his right foot! Remember last time I mentioned he placed his right foot just once and Juli said that was a “milestone?” Well, that was one week earlier. This time he took three consecutive steps in a row several times during the session. Progress! After I was able to take him swimming three times over Labor Day weekend, I had a feeling I saw some improvement. Juli confirmed it when she saw him on the treadmill. It could just be the normal course of his recovery, but I have a feeling the swimming could be accelerating things. It’s certainly not hurting! Same thing with acupuncture and everything else we are doing. I want to give him every chance. He continues to amaze me.

Yesterday, Ali took steps with his right leg in the cart for the first time without knuckling. He did it a few times at the park by Kevin’s house. I couldn’t believe it! We had taken him swimming the previous evening in the American River. Then last night, after we drove home from Sacramento, we met friends at the Russian River for another swim session. After swimming, while Ali was standing up on the blanket, he took 2-3 steps independently with his right foot! Everyone saw it. We all whooped! It’s amazing. First a couple steps in the cart and then while standing on his own…all of this happened in one day. His right leg is waking up! I really think he is going to walk again. I have never said that out loud before, but I said it this morning when I saw him take a few more baby steps on his own, while placing his right foot. I have always been afraid to say anything like that because on some level I must admit I am superstitious about doing or saying anything to "jinx" it...whatever the hell that means. It doesn't make sense, but that doesn't stop these irrational beliefs from taking root in my psyche. But you know what? It felt good to say it. It has been exactly seven months since his surgery. I remember because it was the day before Valentine's Day.

Underwater Treadmill Redux.

Ready to go!

Note the rubber ducky in the corner. It squeaks; Ali likes!

Those who have been following along will remember that after Ali’s first successful session in the underwater treadmill a few months ago, he balked the second time and refused to walk, so we decided to give it a rest for awhile. In the mean time we continued with swimming therapy in the river and our standing exercises at home. Well, as I mentioned in my last post, we decided to try the underwater treadmill again and I am happy to report that Ali has decided he loves it now! Last week, he was so excited he tried to climb into the tank while still in his wheelchair, which is great. It’s cute how enthusiastic he is now about going to the Animal Care Center for these weekly appointments. I think we have done a good job of making it fun for him. And it doesn’t hurt that he has such a good attitude about everything! He is such a sweet, happy boy. People remark on it when they see us on the street or in the park. First they notice and ask about his wheelchair, then they say, “He looks so happy!” And he is. We both are. I’m happy because I know how lucky we are; he’s happy just because. And isn’t that one of the cool things about sharing your life with a nonhuman animal: this zen-like just because? Not to digress into turgid sentimentality, but sometimes when I look at this dog, as am doing now over my laptop screen, in addition to the usual feelings of fierce love and quiet admiration, every now and then my heart melts, turns to liquid, and I feel it rush to my feet. This isn’t as unpleasant as it sounds, but it can be an overwhelming feeling at times. It makes me feel helpless. What do you do with such a strong feeling? You recognize it and honor it as best you can with your actions, I guess. What else is there?

Alright, leaving crazy I-love-my-dog-so-much-it-makes-my-head-hurt land, during the last couple treadmill sessions, Juli has noticed some further improvement in his back right leg. Between two sessions she said his right leg had more movement than the week before, which is pretty exciting. The last two weeks he has been able to move his right leg on his own, whereas the week before she had to bend over the whole time and complete each step for him. He is still “knuckling” on his right foot when he steps, but last time he placed his foot once on his own, which Juli said is a milestone. She also said the muscles in his back legs were less tight and more supple this week, which is cool because during the last week I have been massaging his legs during standing exercises at home (per her recommendation to relieve some of the tightness), so it seems the massage is helping. After a week of not being able to swim (nobody to help), Ali has gone twice this weekend and we are going out to the Russian River again later today to meet Steve. So he has gotten some great exercise this long holiday weekend. I just hope the Labor Day revelers do not make the river too crowded today! It is always more difficult with lots of people and dogs around. Swimming Ali regularly is an ongoing challenge, but a necessary one to tackle because it is so incredibly therapeutic and the benefits for him are invaluable. Okay, now go forth and hug your companion animal and appreciate the unsettling yet not unpleasant feeling of your own heart melting.

6-month update: realism and optimism

Photo: Yesterday, Ali stood up and took a couple steps off his bed when he noticed I was getting his peanut butter Kong from the freezer. He has been doing this more lately – standing up on his own and taking a couple baby steps without falling over.

It has been six months since Ali’s surgeries and he continues to make functional progress. We are back at Animal Care Center doing underwater treadmill therapy once a week. Although Ali balked at the treadmill the second time, he is doing okay with it now. We think it is probably because his confidence level is higher as he is much stronger and has more mobility in his hind limbs. I have also worked hard to make it fun and not stressful for him. It’s not too difficult. He is so social that he loves going there and seeing people, and I just make sure I have lots of treats on hand along with a tennis ball to distract him. He has been walking 6-10 minutes on the treadmill each time. In the water he takes independent steps with both legs, but needs assistance with placement of his right hind leg.

Out of the water, he can take active steps with his left hind leg and his right hind leg is showing motor function down to about the knee, according to Juli. I think this is amazing considering his right leg was barely moving at all a few weeks ago. I don’t know if it’s a coincidence but it was when we started acupuncture that I noticed his right leg started to make subtle movements; now it is moving quite a lot in the cart! We also raised the cart about an inch and now he can take active steps with his left leg while in the cart. Before he was not able to clear the ground and place his left paw – he would “knuckle.” But with the added height he can take actual steps, which should be good for him. (Although the added height has caused us to have to make some other adjustments to the cart involving foam and duct tape – looks pretty DYI but we need to make sure the added height does not pressure his front shoulders too much. It’s challenging to get the correct balance.) The right leg is moving some, but not making complete steps. He continues to stand up on his own and it seems much easier for him now. I think is making great improvements with his balance. He can almost take a few steps on his own and he is really good about catching his balance if he starts to sway – he is able to reposition his left leg pretty well to catch himself.

We continue to go swimming as often as we can, which usually is not more than once a week, but ideally I would take him every other day if I could. There are just no good swimming spots around. The Petaluma River, close to our house, is really an estuary and as such is subject to the ocean tides. If it is low tide it is very treacherous to try to swim Ali there (speaking from experience – Ali and I have both sustained minor injuries on the exposed rocks. Luckily, I haven’t face planted on these jagged rocks yet, a fact Maggie was marveling at last time we were there. It’s only a matter of time, though, if we keep turning up there at low tide, and it will be extremely counterproductive if one of us gets seriously injured!). It is really only safe to go when the tide is high, but it only happens occasionally that the tide is high enough either after work (but before dark) or on the weekend during daylight hours. Plus, I am dependent on Maggie’s schedule and availability because I cannot take him out without assistance and she is my only friend in this godforsaken little town. Even more rarely we make it out to the Russian River, about an hour’s drive away. I go whenever I can, though – which means whenever one of my two friends who live out there can accompany me and Alec. I try to make it happen as often as I can because, although it’s hard trying to coordinate, I think swimming is the best thing for Ali to do regularly. I really think it has contributed immensely to his back strength, and I’m sure coordination as well.

We also continue to do acupuncture, once every 1-2 weeks, as well as standing exercises at home.

Alec’s official status at this point is “ambulatory with assistance; mild-moderate pelvic limb paraparesis.” Paraparesis means a slight paralysis or weakness of the hind legs – as opposed to paraplegia, which is complete paralysis of both legs. After his surgeries he was classified as “non-ambulatory and deep pain negative” and then “ambulatory paraplegic.” So parapetic is the proper word to describe his current condition, not paraplegic. In case you’re interested in the fine points. I am.

The neurologist had noted on his three-month evaluation report that “peak recovery may occur at 3-6 months post-injury; however recovery continues through a patient’s lifetime.” So this six-month mark is a little scary to me. I know it shouldn’t be, but as long as these improvements, incredible improvements, really, occurred before six months had passed…I don’t actually know. I just know I heard myself saying proudly several times when people remarked on this or that improvement he had made: “And it hasn’t even been six months yet!” Well, now it has been six months and part of me is afraid that he will stop progressing. I mean, that has been my fear all along. And it is not an ungrounded fear; nobody knows what will happen. The physical therapists talk a lot of being “realistic” but also “optimistic.” There are no guarantees in this field, and I remind myself of that a lot when I realize how far he has come and how grateful I am for that. I just really hope his right leg improves the point his left leg has, but that is not a given. Mobility could stop at the knee. But I guess I need to focus on the optimistic part of the equation. I feel like I have done a good job of balancing the realism/optimism equation thus far (of course, Ali’s amazing progress has helped with that!), and I know the six-month mark is just an approximate guideline; of course I know that. Juli has a client whose dog is two years post-surgery and just started walking on her own. So, we won’t give up! Bring on the next six months…I’m ready. And really thankful for how far he has come in just six months.

Franken-shepherd, and a loss next door.

Ali had his fourth acupuncture treatment last week. Starting with the second time, Dr. Canon hooked his needles up to a little box of wires that transmit electricity (see photo). He looked like such a Frankenpuppy hooked up to those wires! The gauge on the electric box goes up to 4, which she said most dogs can handle, but once we reached 2 Ali’s hind legs sort of twitched and he sat straight up, indicating he felt something, even at that relatively low dose. So she let him “pickle” at number 2 for 20 or so minutes. The fact that he reacted to such a low dose of electricity suggests he may be more susceptible to the therapeutic aspects of the acupuncture so I think his “sensitivity” in this regard is actually a good sign. The last two weeks he was able to handle her turning it up to 4 (I could actually feel the current pumping through his muscles – they kind of pulsate – it was weird!).

Like Dr. Canon and others have said, it is difficult, or maybe impossible, to be able to tell with any certainty if acupuncture is working. Even if Ali were to show improvements after his sessions, we can’t necessarily know if this is attributable to the acupuncture, his “normal” course of recovery, or something else (like the other therapies we are doing). But, at about $40 a session it is relatively inexpensive and I do want to try everything feasible to give him the best chance. And acupuncture will not, from what I understand, hurt him, so I am not that concerned with being able to scientifically say whether it is working or not. The more I learn about this disease and recovery from it, the less I realize is actually definitively known. Nobody really knows what the heck is going on, basically. But I can say within the last few weeks that I have noticed his right leg moving slightly in the cart where until just recently there was nothing. I am going to keep monitoring this and hoping, hoping, hoping his right leg “wakes up” so it can catch up with the left. Who knows, maybe the acupuncture is helping! But I really do think I am seeing something over the last few weeks in his right leg that wasn’t there before.

On a sad note, my neighbors’ dog passed away this morning. His name was Scooby-doo and he was one of those adorable chow mixes that looks like a Teddy bear with a lion’s mane. I knew he had been sick, they thought it was Cushing’s disease, but last I heard they were treating him with some kind of medication. He was ten years old and they adopted him from the LA pound when he was 6 months old. Ali and I were heading home after our morning excursion to the park and I saw them on their porch and waved hello. Shane came up the fence separating our yards and I noticed he was crying and of course I had an awful sinking feeling. He said trough tears, “We lost Scooby this morning.” He was having trouble speaking; I felt so bad. Needless to say they really loved him and as he told me what happened and explained he was in shock I recognized all the terrible emotions I felt when I lost Kobi and how I felt when I almost lost Ali…that desperate, bottomless, raw grief that clutches your heart and squeezes until you can barely breathe. The world goes all crooked and nothing seems real. My heart broke for him and his wife and I wished so much I could just take their pain away. After I lost Kobi, I said I would never adopt another dog (I already had Ali), that the pain of losing him was just too much to go through again. Now, although I wish I didn’t and instead could just enjoy and appreciate every single second with him, I think a lot, probably too much, about losing Ali. I try so hard not to go there but it’s hard for my obsessive brain sometimes. I just love him so much. There are no words. He is a very precious individual to me. Our relationship, while of course different from my relationships with people, is special and unique. I honestly don’t know how people with kids do it. I would definitely be one of those crazy overprotective moms who would not let her child out of her sight until he was 18. I like to think I wouldn’t be, but I know myself…I am a worrier. I get that from my mom, of course. She would call me when I was away at college to warn me if it was going to rain that day and to tell me to be careful outside. She refuses to get on a plane and she did not want me to move to California because it was going to fall into the ocean any minute. You know the type. I am much more laid back and adventurous than she is (it would be hard not to – no offense, mom, you know I love you!) but I can’t shake off the anxiety completely. I am afraid of a lot of things: mountain lions, idiot drivers, heights, small spaces, and countless other everyday terrors. But most of all I am afraid of failing someone I love, someone who is dependent upon me to take care of them. And this overwhelming protective urge…I feel it so strongly sometimes. But there is only so much you can do to protect someone else.

Anyway, after Kobi died and I said I would never get another dog, people told me I would change my mind eventually. It’s been two years and I’m still not sure. Of course I have had Ali this whole time. I don’t know what it would be like to not share my life with a dog. Then again, it hurts so much to lose them, and we are pretty much guaranteed to lose them unless we meet an untimely end ourselves, given the huge disparity in our relative life spans. I strive for the Buddhist ideal of un-attachment – I know attachment only leads to suffering – but knowing and feeling are two very different things and I have not quite gotten it down yet.

Reasons to be happy.

Photos: Ali doing his “standing exercises” at our front door. He can stand for quite a while on his own now; not that long ago, I’d have to hold him to keep him from falling over. Also, Ali in action doing swim therapy. We found a closer place to swim at the Petaluma marina (5 min. drive vs. 50 minutes to the Russian River), but it has not been without problems - however that is a story for another post!

Well, there are certainly many reasons to be happy, but I am cautiously optimistic (okay, let’s face it, pretty darn excited) about some recent developments...mainly the fact that Ali has not yet hit a plateau, i.e. stopped improving (yes, I just knocked on my wood paneling when I wrote that, even thought I am NOT superstitious, ha ha).

We had our appointment at UC-Davis last Tuesday and met with Jackie Woelz, the rehabilitation specialist at the veterinary medical teaching hospital. I really liked her (so did Ali) and the best part was how clearly impressed she was with Ali’s condition. She said I was doing a great job with him and she could tell we had been working hard at home. She was most impressed with his strength through his middle and back – in fact, she said she had never seen a dog so strong through his core who was not yet walking! Jackie’s reaction made me feel pretty good because you never really know if all the standing, etc. is actually doing anything. But seeing how impressed she was made me realize how far we have come in the last five months. She said both the standing and swimming therapy combined have helped make him strong.

While she was evaluating him and showing me new variations on his current home therapy program, Ali was basically standing for the entire hour and a half appointment. Jackie said, “I’ll give you another first…” and she told me she had never seen a dog able to stand for that long, without getting fatigued, who was just 5 months out of surgery. Obviously, this is something else to be happy about! I’m sure Jackie has seen a lot of cases like Ali’s over the years (the vet school at UC Davis is highly regarded), so it really meant something to me that she was that excited about his physical condition.

Juli had told me a while back she can always tell when her clients are not doing the at-home therapy with their dogs. She said many times these dogs regain mobility in their legs, but their back/core is not strong enough to hold them up, so they just sort of drag and flop around, not really able to walk. So I am glad that Ali is strong! If he continues to make improvements in the area of mobility - in other words, if he regains normal motor function in his legs (could it happen??) - he will be strong enough to support himself. I don’t know if my math is accurate (in fact, generally speaking, I am quite sure it is not!), but it would seem that building up his muscle strength and addressing the post-surgery atrophy is half the battle for Ali right now. Of course the other half – movement – is the sexy part; but he needs to be strong too!

So, the plan moving forward is to continue to do standing exercises with him as often and for as long as I can, and to encourage him to take steps while doing it. Jackie said Ali was giving us a lot of material to work with. He can almost take steps with his left leg now, but his right leg holds him back because it does not have as much mobility. We have moved his standing exercises to yoga mats at home since he can do them without the cart now. While he is in standing position, I stand or sit behind him (or hover round him taking photos, ha ha) and make sure his form is good while massaging his hind legs and along each side of his spine (to stimulate the nerves). It continues to be a little challenging because, although he was a perfect angel at UC-Davis, when I am alone he just wants to turn around and look at me! He won’t stand straight; he just keeps twisting around. Jackie suggested putting the yoga mat in front of a door or window, which I did, but he is not interested in what’s outside as much as he is in turning and to look at me! Oh well, we have to keep trying.

Our saving grace is the peanut butter Kong. I am guaranteed at least twenty minute of good solid standing each day for the time he is working his way through the jumbo Kong toy, which I fill with peanut butter and freeze each morning. His attention is so rapt while he excavates the peanut butter that he stands still and does not try to wander off while we do these very important standing exercises. We have another appointment at UC-Davis next week during which we will try the land and water treadmills; for now, though, Jackie said the best “equipment” for Ali’s therapy is my own two hands.

Finally, my boss just told me I don’t have to go on the work trip I mentioned a few posts back (the Taking Action for Animals conference in DC), which is great because it will save me at least $300 in boarding costs for Ali (not to mention the stress of leaving him). Yay! I am so relieved because I have NO money. Of course I am also disappointed because I really wanted to go to this conference and if circumstances were different… but circumstances are not different, and so this is one more reason to be happy.

Sociable shepherd.

Maggie and I had a party at our house last weekend - a vegan potluck BBQ in honor of July 4th and our belated housewarming - and Ali had an absolute blast. Unlike many dogs, he is completely unperturbed by fireworks or crowds of strangers tromping through his house…in fact he seems to thrive on it (the large groups of people in his house, not the fireworks). This is rather strange, given his generally higher-than-average level of anxiety, protective tendencies, and oddball neuroses about things like moving water. But there you go – all dogs are individuals with their own inexplicable little quirks! I correctly anticipated that once people started arriving I would be functioning as Ali’s virtual caboose all night, grabbing his shepherd handles to lift his back end and ferrying him from room to room so he could greet, investigate and socialize with people at his whim. But my watchful friends were able to help with this task, so I did actually get a chance to relax and enjoy a cold beer or six. Ali was so tired by the night’s end he could not keep his eyes open. I rarely see him this tired – even swim therapy doesn’t knock him out like a good night of intense social interaction. I may have to throw parties more often...anything for Ali! The one I am most looking forward to is the one where he can walk up to his friends and greet them on his own. Dare to dream!

Kobi.

Two years ago today my first dog, Kobi, passed away. As human beings we have a need to mark important passages, but this day is no more special than any other, really, except that it marks the day I was forced to make the hardest decision of my life. Seven and a half months before this fateful day, Kobi was 13 years old and in seeming good health (except for the slowing I thought was normal for an older large breed dog) when I discovered he had cancer. They were 98% sure it was lymphoma, a type of cancer that responds relatively well to chemotherapy. What could I do? Those of you who have been reading my blog will guess! I felt I had no choice but to, of course, start treatments. They said the chemo would not make him sick the way it does people and that he could live another two good years if his cancer went into remission. The operative word being “good” – I never would have kept him alive if he was suffering.

Kobi came into my life while I was home from college in the summer of 1994, about a month before I moved out of my parents’ house and into my very first apartment (I had been living in dorms before that). My summer job was at a boarding kennel, and there Kobi was day after day, because someone who worked there could not keep him in his new apartment. I fell in love and stayed after work to play with him every day. One day the guy told me I could have him and the rest was history. I was naïve back then and didn’t know about the tragic pet overpopulation problem. I had always thought I would have to buy a Siberian husky if I wanted one (yup, like many, I had a youthful obsession with the breed) and could not afford it, yet here a perfect beautiful mischievous creature fell into my lap. Oh, did I have no idea what I was in for!

Kobi was my constant companion for 12 years. He was there through so many relationships, residences, and life upheavals I have lost count. I always advise people not to get a dog if they will be moving a lot. Kobi and I moved on average once per year during those years and it was HARD finding rental places that would take big dogs. I could have saved a lot of money and stress had I been dog-less. Never ever would I have considered for a second giving him up, though. He was one and a half years old when I adopted him and I was his third “owner” (his first bought him in a pet store at a New Jersey mall). I vowed to him I would keep him forever, and keep him forever I did. When we started chemo treatments, Kobi responded so well it was amazing. I will never forget in the early days after starting chemo the day we went on a hike along the Russian River with Ali and my friend Steve and his dogs. Kobi was running faster than I had seen him in several years with an unmatched exuberance. It was like he was two years old again. He outran all the dogs and barely seemed tired. That memory still makes my heart warm. As his treatment wore on there were good days, bad days, and for me, many sleepless nights, but the good days always outweighed the bad. Until that last day.

Kobi was too smart for his own good, or maybe my own good. He was a difficult dog to live with, especially as a first dog because I was very naïve about dog behavior back then. Kobi was fiercely independent and never once came when I called him, much to my repeated chagrin when I would make the mistake of letting him off the leash at some park or on a hike. He was an infamous ruiner of picnics and pillager of garbage. He could escape from any enclosure, whether it was over, under or straight through, or by figuring out how to undo the lock. He was clever and had a wicked sense of humor. He did not cuddle and did not care to be petted. He did not need me at all. He was the very embodiment of free spirit. Kobi taught me what unconditional love was – not because he loved me unconditionally (ha! yeah right!) but because inexplicably, irrationally, and with no encouragement whatsoever from him, I felt this mysterious emotion…an emotion that is imbued with action. It carries a commitment.

Ali and Kobi lived together for 3 years. They got along just fine but I would not say they had a strong bond. Kobi did not really bond with anyone, human or fellow dog. They were very different dogs. Where Kobi would run away at the first chance he got, Ali would stick by my side and – surprisingly – come when I called. While Ali would play all day long (stick, tennis ball, squeaky toy, whatever – whatcha got?), Kobi would very rarely run after a ball with comically fleeting enthusiasm, only to get distracted and drop it three seconds later. Where Ali had separation anxiety when I first adopted him and could not stand being left alone, I think Kobi’s only anxiety was the agony of being imprisoned in a human world and not allowed to run wild. After living with Kobi for so long, Ali’s blatant and unrestrained affection for me nourished my love-starved soul. This is not meant to disparage my headstrong self-contained dearly departed friend Kobi. On the contrary, his spirit made me admire him tremendously – as difficult as that “spirit” made it to live with him at times. Because of those difficulties, I really learned what the word “commitment” meant, well before all of this happened with Ali.

Of course, I could not have foreseen what happened with Ali. I had some savings that were rapidly depleted once I started chemotherapy with Kobi, and then I got a credit card just to charge his medicines and treatments. Prior to his illness, I had zero credit card debt, only student loan debt. But as I have said before, I can think of no better reason to go into debt, so there I went. And in case you’re wondering: no, pet insurance does not cover chemotherapy. But I would not change a thing. I was able to buy Kobi seven extra good months doing his favorite things – going to the beach, the river, romping through the woods, and trying to run away until the very end, even though he had slowed down considerably. He never stopped trying.

On the morning of July 10, 2006, he couldn’t try anymore. The cancer had come back with a vengeance and apparently attacked his nervous system. That morning he could not get up. He couldn’t move. Even then, I still thought as I rushed him to emergency, he has had so many ups and downs, they will fix this too. But there was no fixing him this time and his cancer doctor told me the words I never wanted to hear: “If this were my dog, I would euthanize him today. I wouldn’t wait.” He said it was the “beginning of the end” and Kobi wasn’t going to get better this time. There were no treatment options left. I stayed with him for hours, asking him to give me a sign. He lifted his head once, but never again. I agonized over the decision. But I knew I could not keep him around for me. I could not be selfish. I had to do what was right for Kobi. But what was that? Who put me in charge? Sigh. I did, when I took him into my care all those years ago. Even though he had been sick for months it still came as shock to me. I told the doctor I had hoped, barring living forever, that he would pass away in his sleep. He told me it rarely happens that way. So I told him I loved him and a bunch of other things and then said good-bye.

Today I will visit the beach where Kobi spent so much time during his last months and remember his long, amazing life and all the lessons he taught me about responsibility, love, commitment, and freedom. Ali accompanied me on this pilgrimage last year, but because the beach is not accessible to dogs in wheelchairs, this year he will not be able to…so I will keep it short. I have so much more to learn.