Stay… Just Stay With Me
It’s not much of a life you’re living
It’s not just something you take, it’s given
Round and around and around and around we go
Ohhh now tell me now tell me now tell me now you know
Not really sure how to feel about it
Something in the way you move
Makes me feel like I can’t live without you
It takes me all the way
I want you to stay
-Lyrics from “Stay” by Rihanna
When I compare my life to a song by a battered and abused pop star, I know I’m in trouble. For the past few weeks, any time this song has come on the radio, it’s struck a nerve, a painful and excruciating nerve. I’ve always been addicted to music and while a beat is catchy, it’s the words that always get to me. This particular song hasn’t come on without leaving me with tears. A sad love song that I dedicate to my damn dog. Pathetic? Possibly.
What I thought was a sign that things were getting better has again turned into that throbbing emotion called sadness. Our “good days” were short-lived, only two if I want to be exact. It’s amazing how 48 hours of positivity can disappear so quickly and so completely, almost like it never existed at all. Was I imagining it all along?
Bowser is back to regurgitating whatever he eats and he’s tired, so very tired. His eyes say he’s miserable yet his heart still remains full of love and the need to console me, his best friend. His eyes bore into my soul and it feels like my heart is being ripped out. I can’t breathe and I can’t see through the stupid tears. It’s just a damn dog.
While the signs of Bowser’s failing health may be insignificant to some, they radiate to my very core. Walking in the door and seeing his toy box is still full and that he hasn’t touched any of them since I picked them up last night, hell… I may as well walk in and find him dead on the floor. No matter how sick he’s ever been, he’s still had to have his toys out and by his side. Even when he doesn’t feel up to playing, he’ll still lay his head on his furry little animals. To see them sitting neatly in his toy box, slobber free, it knocks the wind out of me. Even the cat knows something is up. I can’t count how many times I’ve seen her walk over to Bowser and lick the end of his nose. Then she stands and looks at him a moment before she walks away. I wonder if the cat will mourn when the damn dog is gone?
I talked to the vet tonight and he’s really concerned and he wants me to bring Bowser in and drop him off for a day of x-rays. His words, “I don’t know that there is much else that I can do.” replay over and over in my head. I asked him to explain this, to make me understand how we can go from a seemingly normal life to this, all within a few weeks. He told me that he doesn’t know and that it’s “definitely interesting”. I asked him again about the scope of Bowser’s esophagus and if he thought that it was a good idea given Bowser’s age, current condition and the fact that he had surgery a few weeks ago. The vet said, “It’s not good but I don’t know that we can do anything else.” The signs still point to the probability that the cancer has spread to his esophagus, which will eventually, close up completely. There’s a slim chance that these latest symptoms are unrelated to the cancer but then what?
So again I plea with the forces that be… please let him stay. I just want him to stay with me… I’m not ready to say “good-bye” to the damn dog, my best damn friend.