The last post was "published" today but it was written many moons ago. I have taken a break from writing and mostly because there has been little change since the beginning of Mack's situation in December and the last few months and that makes me smile. Thank God! Thank God there has been so little to write about him and that is a good thing. In two days it will be four months post surgery and the only thing stronger and more definite is the love I feel for this little guy and the unbelievable proportions and depth it's gone to. If you could see him now you would see a fully grown out curled up dog, sleeping dog who is at rest. He doesn't necessarily have the same energy levels he did before, but then again, we have to remind ourselves he is 13 years old.
It's ok that I took a break from writing, no one is reading my blogs, so I can just take a rest from the constant rumination and thoughts that this blog can bring out. If I start thinking post surgery I start thinking about counting out the months, then I go from there to what the doctors have said about this and then I get depressed. If I were to believe he was not cancer free, it would mean that if we're lucky we have about 12 to 18 months or less with him, but I don't go there. I believe he is cancer free and we will have him for his natural, long life. I can't believe anything else and refuse to accept that we did this for nothing. He is cancer free. Period.
For all intents and purposes, he is a totally normal dog. Eats like a fiend, runs outside to explore the yard and sits on the deck and loves the outside and the sun. He runs pretty much where ever he is going and if he knows I'm coming home, he will bark and whine and run around me when I get in the house.
He sometimes even initiates play with our other dog Oreo and sniffs the air like he was a puppy again. When we feed him he dances to his dish on his back legs even though the one leg has no cartilage or knee joint left and yet, he sleeps on his back and relaxes only when I'm home with him.
Sadly I had to break him of his habit of sleeping with us on the bed. I was not getting any sleep and sometimes I think he wasn't either. If I tried to move and he was right next to me, it was like I was sleeping up against a wall of dog. He would not budge and so I would have to cede my space and eventually find myself sleeping on the very edge of the bed. It wasn't working for my back and I certainly know it wasn't really allowing him to sleep freely. He was vigilant with where I was on the bed, at times sleeping with his back legs against my back and kicking me when he moved. It was not good for me and I had to convince myself he'd be better off in his own bed. Besides his bed has the same mattress we have! His crate his is own space, I think it works out ok that way.
He is still the love of my life, I say this because it's so true. Something about this dog from the very beginning was a love affair and he felt it too. I know he did, because I was the only one who could have him in my lap as a very tiny puppy and he would just go to sleep. No one in the family ever got him to do that because most of the time he was a wild and crazy dog~but with me, he calmed down and stayed in my lap the entire time I was there. I would look for him when I came in and he would come up and grab my hand and want to play. A truly wild and energetic dog and he stayed that way for a long, long time. Until of course we got his biological sister and that changed the dynamics of our play time. We thought we were doing the right thing by getting him a playmate, only to find out that she was not a sharer of toys and dominated the play time whenever we tried to play with him. We have to literally lock her out of a room and play with him for a little while just to have that time. Or go where she won't go and have that quiet and loving time alone. She turned out to be very jealous of his attachment to me because she is attached to me and she considers him an interloper. We have to continually correct and protect him from that attitude and as long as we have him, he will be the top dog, no matter what Oreo thinks.
We go along on our way on this journey and pray we are spending quality time with him. We were away for ten days and it was such a long time to be gone. I wanted to be home as soon as we left and couldn't wait to get home when we head that way. It is so like a child that you hate leaving him. It was way too long for me and I was never so happy to get home and have him in my lap. Just the happiness and frantic way they greeted us told me that they had missed us.
Life moves along at this pace and it is ok that I don't fill pages of this blog with anything more than for now, Mack is a winner. He is strong, healthy and gaining weight and he looks great. We are due for some new pictures of his four month recovery and then I'll send them along to his veterinarians and hope they enjoy knowing of a success story. That is what I consider him, the miracle dog.
My sweet Mack, you are like a Mack attack to the heart.
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