Friends,
Yesterday afternoon, we learned that our Libby has cancer of the bladder. She's been having some peeing problems lately and after several tests, it turns out that the outlook is .... let's say not so good.
Right now, she's an active fun-loving Scottie dog, the finest of the eight Scotties who have shared their lives with us. And I pray that we can keep her feeling good for another year or so.
Yup, we've cried and held her tight and she's loving the little added attention. We usually do Chinese take-out when coming home from Saturday evening Vigil Mass and I spoiled her last night ... four noodles instead of the usual three.
Hey, we'll just take each day as it comes. Loving and hugging and being a family.
I wrote the little Personal Writing about Libby last year. I hope the dog lovers amongst us can appreciate the love. I cry whenever I read it ... especially now
God Bless,
Steve
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Libby
It's a cold winter day, with rain and a touch of snow blowing sideways. And I'm studying a mother lode of Scripture and Gospel. I'm the leader of a Lenten Group at church and I'm amazed at the needful preparation I must do every week.
Anyway, I was taking a break, sitting by the fire with a sleeping Scotty dog, Libby, laying by my side on her favorite flannel blanket. Libby loves to lay on Karen�s lap, or in my chair, or between us on our bed.
Libby is family.
Lib is very close to being nine years old, and I simply HATE that. Libby is our eighth Scottish terrier and she is by far the finest dog-person with which we�ve shared our lives. Dang I hate to see her celebrating her ninth birthday ... Scotties usually live ten years and that's pretty-much it.
One beautiful boy Scottie of ours was a great dog. His name was Stuart. He got melanoma and died a little after his ninth birthday. We knew he was terminal, so we took him on a special trip to the beach. He found an icky dead fish and did all things doggy.
His last effort at the beach was to bring a golf ball-sized pebble to me and drop it on my foot ... then, he got another identical one for Karen and put beside the first. And then, he collected a little pile of rocks, just enough to give one to her veterinary, Dr. Kirsten Shaw, who took such loving care of him and some for his favorite vet techs. Not long after that, our beloved Stuart died.
Too young, our baby boy. Too young dead.
We still have those two little stones, Stuart's last gifts. They are cherished and each rock bears his name. Like all of our little Scotty boys and girls, his ashes will be put into our coffins with us.
And then there was Mac, our first Scottie Dog. He was a rascal and a wonderful dog. He lived to be almost fourteen years of age. He was a diabetic for the last several years of his life, but he still went with us everywhere. Blind and loyal and loving, that was our Mac.
Libby, celebrates her ninth birthday soon and we'll have our little party, just like we always do. She has had a hermatacrit problem for several years (too much blood volume), but she's still wonderfully active. From just watching her, Lib is still in the prime of life.
Anyway, I was just taking my break and contemplating this little and marvelously devoted dog person, Libby. She's kinda long-haired now; she�s had a bath and Karen�s going to clip her soon. Libby doesn't mind and neither do I.
And, HEY, I'd rather lift a glass of Mike's Harder Blueberry Lemonade, supplemented with a wee-bit of additional Blueberry Vodka, to Libby now, while she's active and happy and oh-so full of life. The other end of the Rainbow Bridge is too horrible to contemplate, so let's not even think of it.
Today, just for now, let's celebrate life and the love shared by all the great dogs in our lives. Let's love life for all of the pleasures it gives and cherish it.
by Steve
