..and where we're at today...

..leaning into gratitude, for the things that are still good.

Danny has not declined steeply, but neither is he much better. Well, on one front - the "gross hematuria" - vetspeak for a lot of blood in the urine, visible to the eye - has stopped altogether. That's an improvement...but, his weirdness with food continues, and we don't have an exact cause - he has some gingivitis, and he is too old to safely put him under and address that, so I offer soft things like pate and soft cheeses and cat food and meat congee, but then he insists on something crunchy and there's no sign of discomfort...I hate, hate HATE not knowing what' s going on.

Maybe one of the lessons now, one of the graces, is just that; acceptance.  It isn't my best thing; I figure, with all the things humanity can do (space travel, heart transplants, Haagen Dazs Rocky Road) we should be able to forestall ageing and we should be able to treat...well, everything. As an herbalist I hate flying blind, but maybe I am too dependent now on veterinary input (a truly great herbalist can work without it, though I can't say that on my science-y groups, or anywhere professional I could get slammed by those who don't get it).  So we are focusing on nourishment of body (any food he wants any time he wants it and in pretty much any amount, though he simply cannot OD on chicken liver or butter) and more joy,  despite this horrible heat that means I can't take him for several little toodles every day, and my mounting concern about my ability to make ends meet in a market just way beyond saturated with newcomers,  I will find joy.

And acceptance. I can work on that.

There are indeed face transplants and space travel  and Rocky Road -  but little help for my back, and Danny can't endure another ultrasound..and.... everything dies.

This dog...this Spirit, came into my life in a burst of joy,  his song was always Good Morning, Starshine - and he brought such healing and focus and beauty to my life I honestly wonder if I'd have made it through my fifties without him. And yet I not only made it, through so much tragedy and loss, I would actually consider that decade to be the best of my life - largely because of him. He came into my life full of joy, he will leave it as joyfully ( read; filled with gratitude and love and tenderness and chicken liver pate) as is humanly possible. I will keep his gifts in my heart and work, because to do that keeps him with me and keeps our beautiful lost years alive.

I can do this.

I may need help, and a lot of ice cream, but.
I can lose weight later.

He's so worth it.

Yesterday after his walk - he loves the walk but has no patience with waiting to get back in. <3