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Updated:
April 28, 2007
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Bubba:
The perfect gentleman who just happens to be a
dog
The
Beginning of Bubba
It was the
summer of 1992 when the Perfect Gentleman first crossed
my path, literally.
As I
approached a red light near the Burbank Airport
(California) there he was...crossing the street. On a
green light, of course, and walking in the crosswalk. I
was impressed.
His head
held high, this dog walked with determination. He was
going somewhere!
As he
crossed in front of my car, a ray of sunshine beamed off
his metal dog tag and right into my eyes.
My heart
skipped a beat, it was a sign! That's because I had
implemented a new rule for myself: I would only stop for
strays if they had a tag.
You see,
strays were always walking into my life and as a newlywed
I knew I had to stop bringing dogs home or soon I would
have no home.
My newfound
reasoning was that if a dog had a tag then he had an
owner. It would be simple:
Pick
up dog.
Call number on tag.
Return pooch.
Feel good.
I was
wrong.
As Bubba
walked down Victory Blvd. I raced ahead and pulled my car
over.
As I got a
better look at him, I realized this dog was on a
mission....his four paws kept a fast and steady pace, his
small brown eyes fixed straight ahead, he would have
walked right by me had I not called him.
He
approached very slowly....his brown eyes questioning
me.
Who
are you?
Do I know you?
Do you know me?
I slowly
reached down to pet him as I gently reassured him I meant
no harm. His dog tag read "Bubba".
Hi
Bubba.
The sound
of his name brought an immediate reaction. I had answered
his question. His tail began to wag, he let his guard
down and you could see the tension in him
ease.
Hi
Bubba. It's okay, boy.
You know
me! You know me!
Yes,
Bubba-Dog.
Finally,
someone recognized me!
I don't know who you are
but if you know me then it must be
okay.
And with
that, the Perfect Gentleman jumped into the back seat and
off into our future we rode.
Bubba's tag
told me his owner's name was Candace and that she lived
in Hollywood, a good 10 miles away.
As I drove,
a panting and seemingly exhausted Bubba laying down in
the back seat, I looked at my hands and they were black
from petting him.
Poor boy, I
thought, he must have been walking for a long time.
My mother
lived close by and I would take him there. Bubba could
have some water and eat something while I called Candace
to make arrangements to reunite them and this labor of
love would be resolved in an hour or so.
Wrong
again.
When we got
to my mother's, Bubba quickly devoured an entire package
of ham slices, the only thing I had to give him, and I
could tell he hadn't eaten in a long time.
Okay boy,
let's see that tag of yours and get you back to your mom.
The
number you are dialing has been
disconnected and there is no new
number.
Okay, not
good.
Candace
must have moved. To the Valley. That's why Bubba was in
Burbank. She moved, he got lost and was trying to return
to his Hollywood address.
That's it.
That has to be it.
Since he
was dirty, tired and hungry I figured he must have
walking for days. That would have been enough time to put
an ad in the paper.
O.K.,
Mr. Bubba, you stay here.
Be a good boy, I'm going to buy the paper
so I can get you back home.
And soon all will be well.
The Perfect
Gentleman seemed to understand and off I went.
And then I
heard it.
The most
heart-wrenching, bloodcurdling cry that one can
imagine.
I ran to
the side gate to see what had happened and what I saw,
and heard, remains with me still.
The Perfect
Gentleman sat leaning against the house, his head poised
straight to the sky as if talking to someone higher up,
as he cried.
And cried.
And cried and cried some more.
I had never
seen or heard anything like it.
It was the
sound of a heart breaking into pieces.
It was the
wail of a gentle soul pleading for help.
It was the
echo of love lost, wanting desperately to be found
again.
Bubba,
it's okay, boy.
You'll be home soon, I promise.
Don't cry, Bubba.
Please don't cry.
I rushed
out to buy the paper and there was nothing.
No one, it
appeared, was looking for the Perfect Gentleman. But the
Perfect Gentleman was definitely looking for
someone.
It must be
too soon, I reasoned. Maybe he just got lost today and
they haven't placed the ad yet. After all, it was clear
that this dog missed someone horribly and someone,
somewhere had to be missing him too.
The
following week was a blur of activity.
My mother
was out of town so I had her housekeeper move in to take
care of the Perfect Gentleman. I visited everyday.
Posters
were printed and put up and found ads were
placed
And
nothing. No one called. The silence was
deafening.
It just
didn't make sense.
Bubba was a
sweet, loving dog who aside from being dirty, looked well
cared for. He'd been fixed, had a leather collar and
clean tag on - someone had to be looking for
him!
My husband
and I decided to go the Hollywood address on Bubba's tag.
Maybe someone there would know Candace.
There was
no answer at the apartment number on the tag but another
apartment door was open and you could see a dog staring
thru the screen door.
It was
there we would find the answers to so many
questions.
It turned
out that the girl who lived there was Candace's friend
and the dog at her side was Bubba's brother,
Ernest.
Candace,
she told us, had just been hired as Olivia Newton-John's
live-in nanny and had to give Bubba up. She had given him
to a former coworker and most likely, said the girl, had
no idea he was lost.
Telling us
that Candace adored Bubba, she took our number and
promised to have her call us.
As soon as
we got to the car, I burst into tears.
"What's
wrong?", asked the husband.
"Aren't you happy we found Bubba's owner?"
Incoherent
sobbing
"Gigi,
what's wrong?"
"I love
Bubba"
The husband
didn't understand. Neither did I. We drove back in
silence.
Candace
would later call. It was clear that this young girl loved
Bubba very much and had been forced to make a very
difficult decision. Her job wouldn't allow her to have a
dog so she had given Bubba to someone she thought would
love him as much as she did.
She was
wrong.
The man,
she later found out, had tied Bubba up in a garage near
Burbank. He apparently was able to chew away the rope
that held him and ran away...searching, I am sure, for
Candace.
Candace
came to visit Bubba and it was clear that their adoration
was mutual.
Bubba was a
year and half old, she said, and she had him since he was
a puppy. They had been inseparable.
She
couldn't take him with her but promised to find him a new
home soon. It would be the last time we saw
her.
Over the
next week we spoke several times. Candace couldn't find
anyone to take Bubba and was going to give him back to
the same person who had tied him up. She didn't want to
but she felt she had no choice.
And then
she asked....
Is
there any way you could keep him?
He seems so happy there.
No, no,
no!
Yes, yes, yes!
In seconds
all the reasons for saying no flashed thru my
mind...important reasons like:
My
husband will divorce me
I already have two dogs
My husband will divorce me
I promised him I wouldn't keep him
My husband will divorce me
I could
only promise Candace that I would find Bubba a happy and
loving home where he would be well-cared for.
Yeah,
right.
After
giving me all of his medical history, etc...we said
good-bye.
She cried
and promised to call but never did. I have a feeling it
was just too painful for her and I don't doubt for a
moment that she loved him very much.
I never
searched for that loving home. I didn't have to.
By that
time, everyone here loved Bubba, including the husband.
And the
husband, who lived to please his bride, didn't hesitate
in making Bubba part of our new family.
I was
happier than I had ever been.
That was
1992 and almost fourteen years later, the Perfect
Gentleman and I are still together.
The
Burrito Incident
October
2005
It was a
beautiful burrito, it really was.
A handmade
flour tortilla stuffed to the bursting point with fresh
"carnitas" (pork) and rice. No hot peppers, no spices, no
onions....made especially for me, it was just the way I
liked it so I gave it to my best friend,
Bubba.
Share and
share alike, I mean, that's what friends are for,
right?
It almost
killed him.
It almost
killed me to think it almost killed him.
Death by
burrito -- it's not a pretty picture.
Bubba, like
all the dogs I have had, has always eaten doggy food as
his main diet with human food as an occasional treat. It
has never upset his tummy before. Before the "burrito
incident", that is.
Clang,
clang, clang
The sound
of Bubba's tags hitting the side of his bowl made me feel
good. There I sat, happily thinking I had made his day by
surprising him with the burrito.
The burrito all gobbled up, the clanging stopped and
Bubba walked towards me, licking his lips.
Choke,
cough, gag
Fifteen
feet from the burrito bowl to me and he was choking --
really choking.
His entire
body heaving and making the worst choking sounds you can
imagine, Bubba then began to foam at the mouth. So much
foam and bubbles, it looked like he had swallowed laundry
detergent.
Choke,
cough, gag
More
heaving, more bubbles. What do I do?
Plop
Up came the
burrito -- in it's entirety -- looking exactly the same
as it had before he'd eaten it.
Oh,
Bubba-Dog!
I'm so sorry!
It's
ok, Mom.
Did you see those cool bubbles I was blowing?
Can I have another burrito?
I sort of lost the first one you gave me.
All was
well again....in Bubba's world at least.
I, in turn,
was a mess. I had almost killed him....with a
burrito!
Little did
I know that the "burrito incident" was the formal
announcement of Mega-E's arrival
and that life as we knew it would never be the
same.
The
Journey Begins
November,
2005
After the
"burrito incident" there was the "salmon and rice
incident" followed by several
"just-plain-old-senior-dog-food incidents".
In other
words, almost everything that was going down was coming
right back up.
There were
also the "hairball incidents" where it looked and sounded
like Bubba wanted to spit something up -- I thought it
was a hairball -- but nothing would come out.
When the
vomiting started I thought my poor old boy had acid
reflux so off we went to see
Dr. Long at Roxford Veterinary....and it seems we haven't
left her office since.
Test after
test, everything came back normal but Bubba was still
throwing up. Not everyday but
enough that we were worried.
And now, in
addition to the food, there was phlegm. Thicker than
anything I had ever seen, it was painful just to look
at.
And that's
when I heard the "M" word for the first time.
Megaesophagus.
"Congenital
idiopathic megaesophagus is a generalized dilation
and hypomotility of the esophagus causing
regurgitation..."
http://www.vin.com/VINDBPub/SearchPB/Proceedings/PR05000/PR00133.htm
Idiopathic?
Hypomotility? Mega-what?
The
burrito/hairball/acid reflux theory was so much easier
for me to understand.
After
having Dr. Long explain it to me -- over and over -- I
finally understood.
Megaesophagus
basically means -- and this is my definition here -- that
the esophagus has lost
it's shape; it's firmness. Food no longer shoots straight
down to the tummy...it gets "caught" in
a now-flacid esophagus and then regurgitated right back
up.
It was a
lot to digest -- no pun intended.
Dr. Long
recommended a contrast study and the Bubster was "fed"
syringe after syringe of
barium (looks like and probably tastes like liquid
chalk). He took it like a trooper.
The test
results looked good...the majority of the barium had
passed to his stomach and
only a little remained in his esophagus.
But Dr.
Long still recommended we consult an expert, an
internist, so she helped me schedule an appointment for
the following week at a specialty center in
Pasadena.
That night
I felt hopeful...I mean if he had this awful-sounding
disease he would have surely
thrown up all the chalk -- barium -- but he didn't. Not a
drop.
Maybe it
wasn't Mega-E after all.
Diagnosis:
Death
December
2005
It is
Mega-E.
It isn't
Mega-E.
The more I
read on the subject, the less I seemed to know. Or didn't
want to know.
Meanwhile,
Bubba kept throwing up. Sometimes it was dinner, other
times just phlegm.
Being quite
the documentarian, in preparation for our appointment
with the specialist, I took pictures to show the
doctor.
Yes, of the
vomit.
I had never
seen anything like it and couldn't do it justice with
words alone.
The first
appointment wasn't encouraging...and would only get more
discouraging.
After
listening to Bubba's story and seeing the pictures (she
said it was a good idea, so no
laughing at me!) the doctor felt pretty strongly that it
was indeed Mega-E but would need to perform an endoscopy
to know for sure.
It wasn't
an easy decision to make -- the endoscopy. Bubba hadn't
being under anesthesia since
he was a child -- ok, puppy -- and at 14 it was
risky but if we didn't know what he had how could
we treat it?
Something
had to be done.
The
procedure went well but the diagnosis didn't.
"He
definitely has megaesophagus."
"What
can we do? How do we treat it?"
"There
is no cure.
The prognosis isn't good."
And that
was it.
Basically,
the conversation ended there but I kept hearing those
words in my head:
"The
prognosis isn't good."
"The prognosis isn't good."
"The prognosis isn't good."
We made a
follow-up appointment and left....heartbroken and
empty-handed.
No
medicine.
No
cure-all.
No
hope.
And by far,
having no hope, was the worst thing of all.
"He
Knows"
December,
2005
Bubba
didn't let on that day but he knew. He too had heard the
doctor's words, felt the vibe, sensed the
despair.
"The
prognosis isn't good."
The
endoscopy had confirmed our worst fears and from that
moment on, everything went from bad to worse.
Bubba began
throwing up continuosly. Everything he ate came right
back up. He couldn't even drink water.
"The
prognosis isn't good."
After
Pinche died, Bubba lost a lot of weight but now the
pounds were dropping off. From 56 pounds he plunged to
50. You could see his ribs.
"The
prognosis isn't good."
Meanwhile,
in between cleaning-up and re-feeding poor Bubba, I
researched at a fast and furious pace - reading anything
and everything I could find about Mega-E.
That was
when I found out that there was hope.
And that's
all Bubba and I needed...hope.
Hope
Arrives in a Box
December
2005
There it
was!
On Yahoo,
there was an entire group devoted to the subject of
Mega-E!
Post after
post, from people going thru the same exact thing with
their dogs. All the questions, fears, doubts I had, there
they were, in black and white.
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/megaesophagus/
It was on
the that site that I first heard of the "Bailey Chair" -
created by Donna and Joe Koch for their boy Bailey who
had been diagnosed with Mega-E when he was just a
puppy.
Bailey in
his chair
Bailey, I read, was now seven years old.
Seven!!!
The chair
the Koch's designed helped Bailey sit upright after every
meal (in Bailey's case he actually eats in it - more on
that later). Gravity could then do its thing and instead
of the food sitting in his esophagus, it flows straight
down.
http://www.geocities.com/bailey_chair/
I had
already started sitting Bubba up in my arms after every
meal - something the vet never told me to do -- but it
was hard keeping him upright.
The Koch's
creation, I kept reading, had helped hundreds of
dogs.
And there
they were, picture after picture of dogs from all over
sitting in their version of the "Bailey
Chair".
http://www.geocities.com/bailey_chair/Page2
I cried
when I realized I wasn't alone!
We
weren't alone!
Bubba
in the Box
December
2005
Thru the
Yahoo site I learned that the Koch's offered a free DVD
with directions on how to build the "Bailey Chair" so I
immediately wrote them.
But with
Bubba getting worse, I worried that they might live in
another state and it would take days for the DVD to
arrive so armed with the pictures from the site, I asked
Dan to build Bubba his own "box".
It was
perfect!
Well, at
least I thought so...although Bubba didn't seem too
thrilled with the contraption.
At first,
just getting him in it was an ordeal but being the
perfect gentleman that he is, he took it like a man. Not
a happy man, but there he sat, for twenty minutes at a
time, as his breakfast, lunch and dinner gurgled their
way to his tummy.
We also
built a feeding stand so that as he ate, gravity could
help the food go down.
Bubba's
meals were now pureed in the blender - mixed with water
into a "slurry" like mix.
The effects
were almost immediate! For the most part, the vomitting
stopped and I felt hopeful that while not cured the
Mega-E was, at least, under control.
I was
wrong.
'Tis
the Season
December
2005
"Twas the
night before Christmas and all thru the house,
not a creature was stirring, not even a
mouse. "
The
holidays were difficult - and that's putting it
nicely.
While the
Bubster adapted nicely to his new feeding guidelines, he
was still losing weight...and throwing up.
'Tis
the season....for spit-ups and cleanups
fa la la la la,la la la la.
The
cleanups were so frequent I decided to just leave the
steam cleaner in the living room.
Bubba and I
spent Christmas Day by ourselves and while for the
Bubster it was just another day,
I was very, very sad.
The thought
that this was probably his last Christmas had me in
tears...I couldn't get that out
of my head.
And, as if
that wasn't enough, personal problems were beginning to
simmer in my life.
It was
Christmas Day that I realized I was truly alone in this
and the feeling was overwhelming.
I needed
help.
I needed a
hug.
An
Angel in Disguise
December
2005
Towards the
end of the year, it was more than clear that I needed
help...serious help.
Since Bubba
was eating smaller portions, he now had to be fed more
often. Plus, he
needed to sit-up for 20 minutes after every meal.
I realized
I needed someone to help me with at least one or two
feedings in the
evening, while I was at work.
And that's
how Bubba and I first met Sarah.
A friend at
work, Kathy, had mentioned her name months
earlier....telling me one day
that Sarah, who had worked at her vet's office, had now
started her own dog-sitting
business.
Sarah was
walking Kathy's dogs and Kathy was thrilled she had found
someone she
could trust and had veterinary experience...just in
case.
I asked
Kathy for Sarah's number and after ironing out the
details, it was a done deal!
Sarah would come in once a day to walk and feed Bubba,
and then sit with him for the
twenty minutes in the box.
Sarah, I
would soon learn, is a gentle soul who loves animals and
Bubba immediately fell
in love with her.
Bubba had a
new friend...and I couldn't have been happier.
Adiós
2005
New
Year's Eve
The last
few months had been so rough that I was anxious to say
goodbye to '05.
After all,
2006 would be the "Year of the Dog" - that surely would
mean loyalty,
steadfastness and all that was good, wouldn't
it?
Not.
In Los
Angeles, 2005 was ushered out with a major rainstorm so
New Year's Eve
was spent at home. A ham was cooked, potatoes were mashed
and the fireplace was lit.
And that's
when it happened.
It
shouldn't have, I know.
He
shouldn't have, he knew.
I shouldn't
have, I admit.
But it did,
he did and I did.
Bubba stole
a piece of ham...an entire slice right of my
plate.
By the time
I heard the familiar clink, clink of his tags on my good
china, it was too late.
And that's
when I did what I shouldn't have done but did anyway.
I gave him
more ham.
I was sad
and mad at this Mega-E monster...this damn disease had
stolen one of the biggest pleasures a dog can
have...eating normally.
How dare
you come into our lives and turn it upside down?
How dare
you hurt my Bubba-Dog? A dog who's never hurt anyone in
his entire life!!
How dare
you rob the best dog in the world of his good health in
the last years of his life?
How dare
you! How dare you! How dare you!
An hour
later, Bubba threw up the ham.
It was the
price we paid for a brief moment of normalcy.
That is how
2005 ended - with a spit-up and a clean-up.
And a
prayer that 2006 would be better.
January
2006
January of
2006 would prove itself to be one of the worst months of
my life.
For 31 days
straight, my faith would be tested; my heart would be
broken and I would
face some of the most painful decisions ever -- in other
words, it was hell.
Bubba would
be sicker than ever and the personal problems that were
simmering last month,
well in January they would come to a boil.
I wanted
the world to stop spinning so I could get off for a
moment and catch my
breath, but no, it wouldn't stop.
Bills had
to be paid, work had to be done, fights had to be
fought.
And all
awhile the Bubster was getting worse.
Mega-E
January
2006
The Mega-E
monster had been unleashed and would rear it's ugly head
all month,
showing us that it was here to stay and there would be
hell to pay.
Bubba would
visit doctor's offices a total of nine times this
month...you can imagine
the toll that took; physically, emotionally and
financially. On all levels, it was a big
blow.
The
strangest thing I have found with this doggy disease is
that health wise, things
can change from one moment to another -- radically. At
least in Bubba's case it
did.
One of the
dangers with Mega-E is aspiration pneumonia -- when dogs
regurgitate,
liquid or food can be aspirated into the lungs and cause
an infection.
Symptoms
can include listlessness, loss of appetite and
coughing.
The night
of January 6th, Bubba went to sleep his happy,
normal-as-can-be-considering-
the-circumstances self....but when he woke up the next
morning he was another dog -- listless,
he wouldn't eat and it seemed that overnight he had aged
many a dog year.
Donna Koch,
Bailey's mom, had told me that it was important to catch
AP early -- her
constant attention to Bailey is the reason he's been able
to live so well with Mega-E
for almost eight years now -- and that the key would be
noticing any changes in Bubba.
Well, this
certainly was a change so off to the vet we went
immediately.
Lung x-rays
confirmed that there was something developing in his
lungs but it was still
small -- on a scale from 1 to 10, with 10 being the
worst, Dr. Long calculated it at a 1 or 2.
Bubba was
immediately put on antibiotics -- Clavamox and
Baytril.
It would be
our first scare of the month but not the last.
Holistic
Help
January
2006
Years ago,
I did a TV story on alternative medicine for pets and
that's when I first heard
of the Limehouse Veterinary Clinic in Toluca
Lake.
http://www.limehousevet.com/
With
TV cameras rolling, I spent several hours there and
was impressed at how happy dogs
seemed to be there. There was no being dragged in, tail
tucked in between their legs --
the four-footed clients all arrived tails-a-wagging, a
site not often seen at the vets.
I thought
then that if I ever had a sick doggy I would bring them
here and a decade later,
I was on my way to Limehouse -- no cameras this time,
just the Bubster and me.
For our
first appointment, we made a great impression by arriving
40 minutes late.
The seven-mile trip there was a nightmare...and instead
of the 10 minutes it should
have taken us, it took us four times as long because
Bubster was sick.
"I
think I'm going to be car sick, Mom"
"Bubster,
you've never gotten sick in the car
before."
Gag,
cough, foam
Exit
freeway right
"I'm
better now, Mom. False Alarm."
"Are you
sure, son?"
"Yes,
Mom"
Enter
freeway left
"Mom?"
"Bubba?"
Gag,
cough, foam
Exit
freeway right
I had
stopped in front of a church with a large lawn in front
of it (we could have used some
divine intervention at that point) and on that lawn we
sat for half an hour while Bubba heaved,
gagged and foamed at the mouth.
It wasn't a
pretty sight.
It was then
I noticed an electric company worker sitting in a nearby
van -- the man was
just staring at us.
With Bubba
blowing bubbles and foaming at the mouth, I knew the guy
was thinking Bubba
had rabies or something awful like that.
When the
guy grabbed his cell phone to make a call, I imagined him
calling Animal Services
or some other agency...as Bubba continued to heave my
imagination ran wild with pictures of
uniformed agents hauling him away as I screamed "It's
not rabies, it's Mega-E!"
What can I
say, at that point I was beyond exhausted.
Bubba
finally threw up on the church lawn and we started to
leave but -- and there's always
a "but" isn't there? -- when Bubba got in the car I
noticed that he had had diarrhea all the
way down the sidewalk.
"Sorry,
Mom"
"It's
ok, Bubba."
As the
utility guy continued to stare, I cleaned the sidewalk
with paper towels and the
409 I had brought with me, just in case.
The mess
cleaned up, I got back into the car only to find that
Bubba had thrown up inside.
That's when
I started to cry.
Sticking
it to Bubba
January
2006
Tears
dried, vomit cleaned and poo put away, we were finally on
our way to Limehouse.
Now, I
never met a needle that I liked and I never saw Bubba
meet a needle he liked
so I was anxious to see how the doggy acupuncture session
would go.
Bubba was
just anxious, period.
Everyone at
Limehouse was extremely nice and understanding about us
being so late...and within
moments Bubba had relaxed.
After an
initial checkup and discussion about his Mega-E, Dr.
Priscilla Taylor-Limehouse
brought out the needles and one by one inserted them in
Bubba.
Dr.
Priscilla Taylor-Limehouse and Javier
He didn't
even blink....there he lay, as relaxed and happy as could
be, with about a dozen
needles sticking out of his body. It was
amazing.
And
then, to further show me how hip he was to this whole
holistic thing, Bubba did what he
does best -- he took a nap, needles and all.
We left our
first session feeling much better than when we
arrived....armed with little
bottles filled with liquids, powders and
pellets....things called Pulsatilla, Slippery Elm
and Mu Xiang Shun Qi Wan Saussurea.
Little
bottles that held a lot of hope.
Time
"But
there never seems to be enough time to do the
Things you want once you find them
I've looked around enough to know that
You're the one I want to go through time
with"
Jim
Croce
Time in a Bottle
"Mom,
what's time?"
"What do
you mean, Bubster?"
"You're
always saying it's 'time for you to go to bed',
'it's time for you to eat', 'it's time for me to go to
work',
'it's time for this or time for that'."
"It's an
indicator, son, of when things have to be
done"
"But
what is it?"
"Time is
something we never have enough of, son.
Although sometimes, it can seem like we have way too much
of it.
When we're happy, it flies.
When we're sad, it stops.
When we really need it, it's not there.
It's something you can't save, only spend.
It's what I desperately wish I had more of with you,
but know that I don't have enough of."
"Why are
you crying, Mom?"
"Because
son, just because."
Heartbreak,
Heartache
January 21st thru January 26th, 2006
The final
weeks of January were by far the hardest since Bubba had
been diagnosed
with Mega-E.
In a ten
day period, we would visit the vet six times. It seemed
that we would take
two steps forward only to be knocked four steps
back.
Fever,
nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, bacteria, dehydration,
regurgitation -- he had one
after another -- and when one malady was cured, another
would develop in its place.
Bubba was
deteriorating right in front of my eyes and my heart was
breaking.
As I fought
to save Bubba-Dog, I was also fighting to save a longtime
personal
relationship, but try as hard as I could, I
couldn't.
To realize
that the person we loved, trusted and needed, now more
than ever, was no
longer there for us was devastating.
They say
that when it rains, it pours and in my house a storm of
tears were being cried.
Seemingly overnight, I was losing everyone that mattered
to me. I had never felt so
alone.
Bubba felt
the loss too...first it was his best friend Pinche, now
his best buddy wasn't
coming to visit him anymore.
That week
Bubba's weight plunged even further....from the already
low 50 pounds
he weighed, he dropped down to 44.
He was
eating but not enough...and most of the little that he
did eat would later come up.
Even though
he was sitting up in his box for 20 minutes after every
meal, he gagged
continuously. His esophagus gurgling away, the choking
episodes became more and more
frequent.
I began
holding him up in my arms for an hour or two after every
meal. Like a baby,
Bubba would sleep nestled against my chest...as I would
quietly cry.
My already
broken heart ached.
I was
losing Bubba too.
And there
didn't seem to be anything I could do to save
him.
A
Turn for the Worse
January
27, 2006
By now,
Bubba was so sick and on so many different medications
that he could no longer
be left alone so Sarah began taking care of him full-time
while I was at work.
It was an
enormous relief to know that he wasn't alone...plus I
could call and check in
on him.
On Friday
the 27th, things would take a turn for the
worse.
After being
up all night with Bubba, we had our second appointment at
Limehouse.
Again we
were late.
Again, on
the way there Bubba got horribly sick in the car. He was
gagging and
foaming at the mouth and then had diarrhea, in the back
seat.
By the time
we got to Limehouse, both of us were a wreck.
When Dr.
Priscilla asked "How's Bubba?" I burst into tears...the
only words coming
out of my mouth were "he's dying".
The Dr.
hugged me..I was embarrassed, tired, and scared to death
that I was losing Bubba.
Add my
overall sadness to the mix, my stress level was at the
breaking point and it showed.
As we
waited in our assigned room for the Dr., Bubba began to
get worse. He was
breathing heavily, heaving, shuddering, gagging and
foaming at the mouth.
As I held
him on the floor I called out to anyone who could hear
me.....when the person
who came saw Bubba she immediately went to get the
doctors.
From one
moment to another, both Dr.'s Limehouse, another
specialist and an assistant were
working on Bubba as I held his head and tried to calm
him.
Everyone
was working a different angle and at one point he got so
bad I could hear a prayer
being whispered...silently, I too began to
pray.
I thought
Bubba was going to die, right then and there.
After
fifteen minutes of this -- and let me tell you when
someone is in distress like that,
fifteen minutes is an eternity -- Bubba managed to throw
up a huge puddle of the thickest
phlegm you can imagine.
We were all
drained and I immediately broke down and started crying
(yes, I know,
in every other paragraph I am crying).
I was so
upset, the specialist hurried and brought me some "Rescue
Remedy" to help me
calm down.
Later, Dr.
Priscilla would come back and sit on the floor with Bubba
and me...holding
my hand and patting Bubba...making sure we were both all
right.
I can never
thank them enough for the caring and kindness they showed
us that day.
After
telling me that Bubba's "attack" was one of the worst
they had ever seen, the Dr.'s
wanted me to take Bubba to my regular vet for a series of
x-rays.
So after
spending the morning at Limehouse, we proceeded to spend
the afternoon with
Dr. Long for chest x-rays, fluids and
antibiotics.
Again, the
x-rays showed a little congestion in the lungs. The worst
though was that he
only weighed 44 pounds.
Later that
night, the same exact scene described above would play
out in the living room
of my home.
Except...this
time, as Bubba once again struggled to bring the mucous
up, there were no
doctors to guide us, no one to hold my hand, say a prayer
or offer up a hug afterwards.
It was just
the Bubster and me...alone.
Sleepless
in SoCal
January
28, 2006
Morning
If you
think that it would help, I could stay with you tomorrow
night and alternate
shifts with you, but at some point you have to get some
sleep, Gigi.
You can't be in the public eye and look like you haven't
slept!
Email
from Donna, Bailey's Mom
When
Bubba doesn't feel well he paces.
And when
Bubba paces, I pace right behind him.
We have
been pacing now for two straight nights.
Sleep comes
only in short naps, and the toll it's taking on both the
Bubster and me is
more than evident.
He is
exhausted - the gagging episodes followed either by
throwing-up or spitting-up
(regurgitation) going on thru the night and into the
day.
The house
is covered in newspapers, towels and sheets. The steam
cleaner stands next to the
wet-and-dry vacuum in the living room...there is no point
in putting either away.
I am
touched by Donna's email -- a random act of kindness from
a total stranger. But she is
no stranger to Mega-E and the hardship it
brings.
Bubba
continues to vomit -- each attack more violent than the
other. The phlegm he brings
up is so thick even the vacuum struggles to suck it
up.
The doctor
had sent home some shots of Reglan, in addition to the
Prilosec and Carafate.
I am alone
so I have to give Bubba the injections myself -- an easy
task for most I am sure,
but for me, a wimp when it comes to needles, it takes all
the strength and concentration I can muster to puncture
his delicate skin.
The first
time I try, I end up squirting all the Reglan onto his
coat. The needle never even
touched his skin.
Normally I
would laugh at my ineptness but not now...now I can only
think of one thing: the
quality of Bubba's life.
He is
suffering and I cannot allow that to continue.
A
decision has to be made.
January
28, 2006
Evening
The
vomiting and diarrhea continue.
Bubba
manages to eat one can (divided into small servings) but
it is not enough.
I know that
the medicine takes time to take effect but patience is
not one of my virtues.
I am at my wit's end.
Donna has
been calling thru-out the day to check on Bubba and at
9:00 p.m., upon hearing
that he's not getting any better, she offers to come over
and bring some Robitussin in
hopes that it will help dissolve the mucous.
She arrives
at 10 p.m., her arms loaded with grocery bags.
In addition
to the Robitussin, she has brought chicken breasts and
bouillon to make broth
for ice cubes (Bubba, like many other Mega-E dogs, has
problems swallowing water - for
some reason ice cubes go down easier and help keep them
hydrated) and knowing that I
haven't eaten either, she has brought fresh vegetables so
I can make soup.
I want to
tell her what I am thinking about but I cannot bear to
say the words aloud.
Later that
night, Bubba would have the worst attack yet.
By that
time, Donna had already left...before though, she had
written out a list of
the closest emergency rooms....just in case.
The attack
started just before Midnight and would last an
excruciating 35 minutes,
the longest ever.
As he paced
back and forth, his entire body heaved; his chest pounded
so hard I thought
his heart was going to burst out; and he foamed at the
mouth all awhile making this raspy,
gagging sound.
I tried
sitting him up; patting his chest, his back...anything
and everything I could think of.
Nothing
worked.
I called
one of the emergency rooms on the list Donna had left and
explained that I had
a dog with Mega-E and that he was very sick - I think I
actually said "dying". They said
they would call in a specialist who would be there by the
time I arrived.
As I rushed
to get my purse and keys, I realized I couldn't hear
Bubba (his gagging
had been pretty loud and continuous).
Now, the
silence was deafening.
Oh,
please God, please, please, please.
No, no, no.
Please don't let him have.....
I ran
outside - he wasn't there. Searched each side of the
house, not there. The bedroom,
bathrooms -- the house isn't big but it seemed to take
forever.
Please
God.
Please God.
Please God.
I finally
found him...standing in the middle of the kitchen next to
the biggest puddle of
phlegm and foam you can imagine.
Thank
you God!
Bubba
seemed almost paralyzed -- he just stood there staring at
the floor. I
picked him up and took him to the sofa where he
immediately fell asleep...the poor
pup was drained.
I called
the emergency room and told them that he had finally been
able to vomit and
that I wouldn't be coming in...at least not now. They
were very understanding.
And then I
went to sit with Bubba -- to watch over him as he
slept.
The
decision was making itself and I was
devastated.
D-Day
January
29, 2006
Morning
Bubba is
not getting better, he is getting worse.
In my
heart, I know what I have to do but I can't bear
to make the decision yet.
But I know
a decision has to be made.
So I make
one...I decide that if by next Friday Bubba is not
considerably better,
then I will make the other decision, the final
one.
Five more
days to pray; five more days to hope; five more days to
find a miracle.
January
29, 2006
Afternoon
Donna calls
-- she has spent the morning talking with Dr. Kathy, a
veterinarian in
Michigan who consults on the Mega-E board.
After
hearing about Bubba, Dr. Kathy recommends I immediately
start him on nebulizer
treatments, using both Albuterol and Saline.
At that
point, exhausted and desperate, I am willing to try
anything...but where do I get
a nebulizer?
What is a
nebulizer anyway?
Donna tells
me she will borrow one from a family member and bring it
over.
Once again,
she arrives loaded with bags...more food, the nebulizer,
saline, Albuterol.
So much for a dog she'd only met once.
As Donna
explains how to use the nebulizer, Bubba begins having
one of his attacks...
he's gagging and foaming at the mouth.
I look at
Donna and my eyes say what my mouth can't.
I manage to
mutter something like "If this continues, if he keeps
suffering this way..."
I can't finish the sentence.
"Try the
nebulizer", she says. "If nothing else works, then
you can start to think about
the quality of life issue. Not now."
As I try
calming Bubba down, my back begins to spasm.
It had
started that weekend because, I think, I had been picking
Bubba up so much.
-- either to put him in his chair or to try and help
bring the phlegm down.
So there I
am laying on the living room floor -- my back twitching
away, the pain pretty
bad. Next to me, the Bubster foaming and coughing
away.
Poor Donna!
There she is, basically a total stranger, trying to calm
Bubba down as she
helped me stretch my back so the spasms would
stop.
I told you,
when it rains at my house, it pours.
January
29, 2006
Evening
I began the
nebulizer treatments right away.
First, a
vial of Albuterol for ten minutes, then saline for
another ten.
It wasn't
easy...but miracles usually aren't.
And yes,
the nebulizer turned out to be the miracle I had been
praying for...Dr. Kathy
Morris and Donna Koch the angels who delivered
it.
The change
in Bubba was immediate. No more gagging, no more hacking;
foaming;
no more phlegm.
It was like
the attacks had never happened.
It was like
he didn't even have Mega-E.
Recovery
Mode
January
30th
For the
first time in days, Bubba and I slept thru the entire
night. What a luxury!
The weekend
had been a nightmare and I couldn't believe we had made
it thru.
Bubba
continued to show signs of improvement....but the mucousy
diarrhea continued
and he was put back on Diawin, as well as having
additional fluids administered
subcutaneously.
The weight
loss issue was a big concern...at 44 pounds, Bubba was
emaciated.
Among
everything else Donna had brought over on the weekend,
there were a few cans
of California Natural -- the dog food her Bailey eats.
She had recommended I try
it because it has a high calorie count and could help
Bubba put some weight on.
California
Natural
He loved
the food and at 520 calories per 13.2 oz. can it was just
what he needed.
A
Big Blur
February
2006
February's
28 days came and went in one big blur.
As many
Mega-E "parents" will tell you, the learning curve with
this disease is very
steep. There are a few basic rules but basically you have
to find out what works well
for your furry friend.
There are a
million and one things to figure out:
What
consistency is the right consistency for their food?
Meatballs or Maltshakes?
How much do I feed at one time?
15 minutes in the chair or 20?
So this
month was basically spent "experimenting" -- trying to
find what would be just
right for the beautiful Bubster.
Meanwhile,
he continued on the nebulizer treatments -- Albuterol and
Saline, at least once
a day.
He would
only make five trips to the vets this month -- and I say
"only" because three
visits were for his acupuncture treatments.
Since
starting his new diet and the treatments, he has gained
an average of one pound
per week which is great.
March
Madness
March
2006
The
Year of the Dog is not looking like it's going to be a
good one...at least not for
me, it isn't.
The third
month of the year finds us learning that Mega-E is one
heck of a roller
coaster ride.
While I
know I can't "cure" it, I had hoped to at least "control"
it.
That wasn't
happening.
Meanwhile,
Spring showers rained on my personal parade as well and
March saw me
hoping against hope that relationships could be
saved.
But if
there's something that both Pinche and Bubba's journeys
have taught me, it's that
it always takes two...to tango, to fight, to
love.
Pinche was
my partner in his fight to live. Now Bubba has joined his
paws with my hands
in this new journey.
But it
seemed that in matters of the heart, no matter how much I
loved or forgave; no
matter how much I tried, I was alone.
And
one cannot fix what belongs to
two.
It was a
hard lesson.
It was an
even harder month.
Happy
Birthday Bubba!
March
3rd, 2006
Happy
Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday dear Bubba-Dog
Happy Birthday to you!!!
Today
the Beautiful Bubba-Dog turned 15 years old!
Applause!
Cheers!
The crowd goes wild!
15 years of
health and happiness -- of loving and being loved; a life
well lived.
We should
all be so lucky!
What
Happened?
April
17th, 2006
1:00 a.m.
"What
happened?
We were just talking and you said he was fine."
Conversation with a friend
Life as I
knew it was about to change.
Again.
For the
worse.
Bubba was
much better -- the last week had been really bad but
there's no sense
in writing about that now -- and I felt hopeful that
things were once again returning
to normal.
Easter was
a quiet day for the Bubster and I. Donna brought over a
home cooked dinner
for me and all was calm.
Until 12:45
a.m. when Bubba began having an "attack" -- the gagging,
heaving and foaming
that invariably leads to vomiting.
Last week
had seen those attacks increase and everyone had been
very worried.
Constant
vomiting of both phlegm and bile aren't usually symptoms
of Mega-E and I
was beginning to suspect something else was happening
inside the beautiful Bubba's body.
But another
round of Flagyl (antibiotic), coupled with new
medications had seemed to be
working and the "attacks" had stopped.
Until
tonight....
For ten
minutes Bubba paced; his chest heaving, a raspy gagging
sound came from his
throat as he once again tried to throw up.
I paced
directly behind him.
That was
when I noticed it.
Bubba
seemed much "wider" than normal...he had suddenly "filled
out" and looked much
heavier.
Ironically,
he actually looked much healthier -- similar to his
heyday when he weighed
60 pounds.
But this
wasn't normal...when I touched his abdomen, he jumped
away but I had felt it...
and it was hard as a rock.
As he
continued to gasp away, I thought for a moment that he
had taken in too much air...
that maybe when he threw up, the air would be released
and he would "deflate" back to
normal.
But at the
same time, something that I read on the internet just a
few months ago flashed
away in my mind. The article had been on "bloat" and
"torsion" and how deadly these
things could be.
Seconds
later, Bubba threw up two small piles of
phlegm.
I ran to
the internet and typed in the words "dog bloat" and as I
scanned the listings
all I could read was:
Bloat
is a life-threatening emergency
Dogs can die of bloat within several hours
Bloat is a stomach condition of dogs that is
potentially fatal
Condition is rapidly fatal in dogs, causing shock,
coma
Bloat is ALWAYS an emergency!
Oh my
God!
How can so
many things you had never even heard of four months ago
now mean
life or death?
In minutes
we were in the car heading to the emergency animal
hospital. I had called
ahead so they were expecting us and took him straight in
for x-rays.
At that
point, ignorance was still bliss and I really had no idea
of what was to come.
The first
thing the doctor showed me was the x-ray -- explaining
that Bubba's
stomach was four times the size it should be.
Then he
told me that Bubba needed emergency surgery -- NOW
-- or he would die within
the next few hours, or even sooner.
Surgery or
I could put him down, right then and there.
Whatever
decision I took, he said, I had to take it immediately.
Bubba's
stomach was so distended, his other organs were being
compressed and blood flow
was compromised.
Bubba could
soon go into shock and/or cardiac arrest....and die.
His stomach
needed to be decompressed (the air removed) but the
doctor explained, the chances were that his stomach had
flipped over; twisted itself around and that would mean
surgery.
Very
dangerous, invasive surgery.
How could
this be happening?
Yes, I know
he's old and sick but to go from wanting to vomit to
dying in a matter of minutes
-- it was just too much.
The next
few minutes were a blur. I knew I needed to consult this
with someone so I called
Donna and woke her up.
By then, I
was hysterical.
We quickly
went over the options and she offered to come to the
hospital.
After
talking to Donna, I made one more call.
To someone
who had once told me they would always be there for me.
For
me...and for Bubba.
The
response to my hysterical cries was brief..."I'll pray
for Bubba", was all he said.
And that
was it.
He would
never call back again to see how I was or more
importantly, how Bubba was.
It was a
sobering dose of reality.
I told the
doctor to go ahead with the decompression, and surgery,
if needed. Again,
I was told that the chances were slim that he would make
it thru the operation.
But there
was a chance. How could I deny him that?
By then I
was openly sobbing -- I felt the weight of the world on
my shoulders and so
overwhelmingly alone in that hospital.
I asked to
see Bubba one more time before surgery. There he was, as
perky as ever, ready
to dump that joint and go home.
Oh, how I
wished I could take him back to the safety of his home
sweet home!
"No
matter what son, know that I love you.
I love you so very much, Bubba.
And I will always love you, boy.
Always."
Whispered
words in a furry ear
I wasn't
allowed to stay there and wait so I went home....and
prayed....harder than I had ever prayed before, on my
knees for hours.
Please
God, let him make it thru the surgery.
Please, God.
He's never hurt anyone in his life.
On the contrary, he has only brought
joy and love to those around him.
Please God, just one more chance.
Please.
Unable to
wait any longer, at 4:15 a.m. I called the
hospital.
"He held
his own" , said the doctor.
Bubba had
made it! Thank you God!
The stomach
had turned itself around and they had found a "hole" in
the Omentum -
a sheet of fat attached to the bottom edge of the stomach
- and apparently the
stomach had slipped thru that hole and twisted itself
around.
The doctor
also found a "mass" there which was removed for a biopsy.
The Omentum
was repaired; the stomach placed in the correct position
and sutured to his body so it
wouldn't flip again; and Bubba' belly was sewn
up.
He had been
given Morphine for pain and was now resting.
The
beautiful Bubster had defied the odds and had made it
thru the complicated surgery.
It was time
to start praying again...now for his recovery.
Oh,
Bubba!
April
17th, 2006
2:00 p.m.
After
calling the hospital all day for updates, I go there for
the start of "visiting
hours".
From the
waiting room, I am taken to a consultation room. My heart
starts beating faster
and my mind races....why didn't they take me to see
him? What happened? Did he......?
I pace.
I
pray.
It turns
out to be my first meeting with the dayside doctor who is
caring for Bubba.
The news
isn't good.
Bubba, they
fear, has had a series of "embolic incidents" -- possibly
mini-strokes
Doctors
noticed "nystagmus" - (a rapid, involuntary, oscillatory
motion of the eyeball)
and explained that it indicated a blood clot may have
gone to his brain.
Nothing can
be done to treat it but it was a "major red flag".
Now, we can
only wait (and pray) to see how he does.
The next 6
hours would be spent with the beautiful
Bubster.
Picture
of Bubba in the hospital
taken with cell phone camera
As my baby
boy enters in and out of one long nap, I talk to him;
pray for him; caress his
head and cry.
Despite
wanting to do anything and everything for this gentle
soul, I can do more.
"Thank
you for being my best friend,.
Thank you for always loving me, for never leaving.
For licking my tears when I cried,
for making me laugh when I was sad.
For never letting me feel alone.
Thank you Bubba-Dog.
Death
Row
April
17th, 2006
4:00 p.m.
The
sobbing coming from the run next door pierces my
heart.
A married
couple is saying good-bye to their baby, a beautiful
fourteen year old
Great Pyrenees.
Their life
too was changed from one moment to another.
Saturday,
they tell me, he had been romping in the park.
Sunday he
awoke paralyzed - his back legs can no longer move and he
has no feeling in them.
There is
nothing that can be done.
We are
strangers, the couple and me, bonded together in the pain
of loss.
I cry for
them and with them.
They return
the tears.
He's a
beautiful boy, I say to them.
He's a
beautiful boy, they say to me.
They are
both beautiful boys...boys who, at 14 and 15 we are told,
have outlived the odds.
Outlived
the odds but not outlived our love.
So
Much, So Little
April
18th, 2006
4:00 a.m.
There is so
much I want to say; so much I want to tell you about the
best boy you could
ever meet.
I want to
write about unconditional love and loyalty;
understanding; friendship; companionship:
about always being there; always being here.
All are
things that could be defined with one word:
Bubba.
But the
updates I have been getting thru-out the night are not
good.
Time, I
fear, is running out.
How could
it?
There are
still so many things to do; so many words to write; so
much love to live and give.
Fading
April
18th, 2006
11:30 a.m.
Baby
boy, if you're ready to go then it's ok, son.
I love you and I don't want to let you go
but if you are ready son, then go.
Whispered
softly into Bubba's ear today
Hope has
not died but it is fading.
I have just
spent the morning with the beautiful Bubster -- who made
my day by greeting
me with kisses.
But that is
the only good thing that happened.
I am
returning now to sit by his beside and watch over his
dreams.
It is all I
can do.
Unless, by
the grace of God, a miracle happens soon, then it will be
time to say goodbye.
My heart is
breaking.
Hanging
on to Hope
April
18th, 2006
Noon
Reality,
go away!
April
18th, 2006
1:00 p.m.
In my
heart, hope resides very close to reality.
In between
them, lies the "gray area" -- sometimes referred to as
indecisiveness.
They are
not immediate neighbors because, truth be told, they do
not get along...at all.
Reality
can't stand the fact that Hope is clingy and holds on way
too long sometimes.
Hope
doesn't like Reality because it's not always as it
seems.
Indecisiveness
can't really make up it's mind as to who he likes and who
he doesn't.
Am I
speaking in circles?
Yes,
because I am going in circles.
This
morning Bubba-Dog was not very responsive. He was running
a fever and had
made no effort to get up since the "embolic incidents"
yesterday.
When I
arrived, he lifted his head up to see me, gave me several
kisses and
went right back to sleep.
Nothing I
did could convince him to lick or eat the chicken broth
ice cubes or the
fresh chicken broth I had brought him.
Nothing.
Reality was
causing Hope to fade away right before my eyes...leaving
me nothing
to hold on to...not even Indecisiveness.
A
Vision
April
18th, 2006
1:30 p.m.
With hope
in my hands, I can do anything; I can save the world.
Or at least
I can try.
Take hope
away and I am reduced to nothing.
That is how
I felt this afternoon as I sobbed away to one friend
after another.
All offered
me words of comfort, good advice and support.
But Linda
had an idea....she suggested I speak to a friend of hers,
an animal
communicator or pet psychic.
While I am
a believer, I just didn't think it was necessary in this
case.
I mean,
it's pretty clear: I have a 15 year old dog who not only
has a horrible disease
called Mega-E that requires constant care but now he's
just undergone major invasive
surgery after almost dying from bloat and to top it all
off, doctor's think he may have
had a stroke!
I knew what
the psychic was going to say: "Let him
go...now".
I was
wrong.
Moments
later, Cindy the animal communicator was calling me.
Linda had briefly told
her about Bubba in hopes that she could offer me some
guidance.
After
confirming a few things, like Bubba's name, came a moment
of silence...and
then her message.
"Don't
do anything drastic.
Personally, I wouldn't give up on him, right now.
He's not in pain and he's very comfortable.
Most dogs, when they are ready to go,
tell me just that 'let me go'.
Bubba's not saying that."
Oh,
Bubba!
That said,
Cindy told me that it was important that I tell Bubba
that if he does need
to go, it was all right.
From my
11:30 a.m. post (which wasn't up yet) you can see that I
already done that.
I was
surprised -- pleasantly so -- with this unexpected
reading.
Surprised
and confused.
Confusion
April
18th, 2006
2:00 p.m.
Oh
Bubba-Doggy, what do I
do?
Is
it time?
Are you ready?
Oh Bubba-Doggy, please tell me.
As I drive
back to the hospital to spend the afternoon with Bubster,
I try to
come up with a plan.
"If
Bubba's not _______ better by _________ day, then I will
__________."
The problem
is I couldn't fill in the blanks.
Or I didn't
want to.
If Bubba's
notwhat? Much better? A little bit better?
Significantly better?
By what
day? Tomorrow? In two days? Three?
The last
part -- that I could fill in but just didn't want to.
I was - am
- so confused!
As I
approached the run where Bubba was, he saw me right away
and much to my
surprise --- he got up!
Oh yes, he
was weak and floppy-legged but he made the effort and
with a little
help from the tech and me, was able to get up.
Minutes
later we were taking a slow stroll in the sunlight - very
slow, but he was
walking -- I was so happy!
And for a
second there, he looked happy too.
Picture
of Bubba in the hospital
taken today with my cell phone camera
Then it was
back to bed where he would nap away the next six
hours.
I know that
things are from from well in Bubba's World -- doctors
have
offered me no hope.
The chest
x-rays today showed the first signs of pneumonia and the
recovery
from the surgery is only just beginning. He is, for the
most part, listless and not
interested in eating at all.
Without a
doubt, the next few days will be critical.
But today,
if only for a few minutes, Hope managed to sneak back
into the
picture, pushing Reality right out of the way.
Way to go
Hope!
Way to go
Bubba-Dog!
Lessons
Learned
April
19th, 2006
6:30 a.m.
A decade or
so ago I learned a very important lesson...one that would
change the way I did
things forever.
The details
are long and unrelated to Bubba's Journey so I will skip
them, but the
point is that years ago, when faced with a very important
situation that was stressful
and complicated, I did not do my best to resolve
it.
I
half-heartedly tried, convincing myself I had done
everything possible, but the truth
was I hadn't and the the opportunity was forever
lost.
It is one
of the biggest regrets of my life.
I will
never know what would have happened if I had
tried to the best of my ability and
exhausted all possibilities.
Maybe the
outcome would have been the same but at least I could
look back now and
know that I really tried.
Now I look
back and wonder...what if?
Maybe that
is why now I try so hard in everything I do...if I fail,
I at least know that
I did my best...my real best.
How does
this relate to Bubba?
Well,
yesterday I had that same feeling.
If Bubba is
still alive and trying so hard to get better, then I must
try harder to help him.
With
guidance from doctors that are consulting us and friends,
I will be making some important
changes in Bubba's care today.
What ever
happens will happen...but at least I will know that I did
everything possible for the
one I love so....Bubba-Dog.
After all,
he deserves it.
Moving
Day
April
19th, 2006
9:00 a.m.
I will
eternally be grateful to the doctors who got Bubba thru a
very complicated
and dangerous surgery.
They saved
his life and I can never thank them enough for that but
after spending
six hours sitting on the floor of a hospital cage with
Bubba-Dog yesterday, I
realized that I needed to get him to a specialist.
We had
reached the point where they could do no more for him at
this hospital
and it was time to move.
So last
night, in a series of very late telephone calls and
emails, the details were
ironed out and the decision made: Bubba was
moving.
Early this
morning, with the gracious help of Linda, a friend with
an SUV, we transported
Bubba to a specialty center -- the same center that
helped treat Pinche.
The
beautiful Bubba was looking much better today. Although
still far from his
normal self, he was alert and held his head up high
almost all the way there.
At ASG,
Bubba was put thru a neurological evaluation and then we
met with his
new doctor.
He had
responded well to the test, she explained, although a
strange gait was detected
when he walked -- an indication that a clot had affected
the cerebellum part of his brain.
But his "mentation" (mental activity, thinking) was fine.
The
Aspiration Pneumonia -- one of the biggest dangers that
dogs with Mega-E face --
was a big concern and would be a priority.
As would
getting him to eat again.
The doctors
attitude was positive -- no promises made, they can't be
when your boy
is 105 but I felt she would treat him as if he were
living, not dying.
There is a
big difference.
April
19th, 2006
1:00 p.m.
Reality is
knocking and today I must return to work so the Bubster's
second-favorite
blonde in the world, the gentle Sarah, goes to visit
him.
In a phone
call from the hospital Sarah happily reports that he is
walking -- slightly
unsteady at times but walking -- and looks good,
considering all he has been thru.
Fifteen
minutes later, a second phone call arrives from
Sarah...things have changed.
"He
was fine but then suddenly...."
The cell
phone connection is bad and that is all I hear. I tell
her I'll call her back from
a hard-line.
Was
she crying?
She sounded like she was crying, I think.
Oh, please God, no.
Please.
Seconds
later, we are reconnected. Sarah wasn't crying but her
voice had changed.
Bubba, she
says, was walking around when suddenly he
vomited.
There was
blood in the vomit.
The visit
ends there...Bubba is taken back to rest and to be hooked
up to an IV
with fluids.
Sarah was
sad, I could tell.
And so was
I.
April
19th, 2006
3:30 p.m.
I go to
work but my head and heart are somewhere else.
There is so
much to think about; so much to worry about.
My heart is
heavy and it aches because it is so sad. The last four
months are starting
to take their toll.
But I must
stay strong...if only for the Bubster.
I am all
that he has.
And right
now, he is all that I have.
April
19th, 2006
4:30 p.m.
"Your
husband is here.
He's waiting to see Bubba.
Receptionist
on the phone with me
I don't
have a husband.
I had a
husband a long time ago but I don't have one
now.
I could
certainly use a husband right now, but I don't have
one.
I have a
dog.
I have a
bird.
But I don't
have a husband.
It is
Bubba's best buddy who waits to see him, for what most
likely will be their final
good-bye.
I am glad
they both have that chance.
And I pray
that Bubba's beautiful brown eyes were able to
communicate the love
I know he feels for his best friend.
Love and
gratitude for the walks in the park; afternoons spent
watching the green and gold
(or is it yellow?); talking shop; reading the paper;
napping; baths (ok, maybe not the baths)
and all else that they did together.
Everything
seems so final lately.
April
19th, 2006
4:35 p.m.
An update
from the doctor tells me Bubba is resting.
Another set
of x-rays show that the pneumonia is just starting and
while having it is
never good, catching it quickly is.
Sarah had
left containers with Bubba's blended California Natural
for him to eat
but the doctor says he didn't want to.
Not
surprising but disappointing.
As for the
blood in the vomit, the doctor says it is common after
stomach surgery.
I will talk
to her again tomorrow morning.
April
19th, 2006
11:55 p.m.
Tonight's
assignment has me near the specialty center so I decide
to stop there before
going home.
I am
hopeful to sneak a peek at my boy but other dogs in
distress have the emergency
room busy and they cannot allow me to see him.
I
understand -- three nights ago it was Bubba in an
emergency room.
Was it only
three nights ago that I had to make that life or death
decision?
Three
nights since I thought my heart would burst right out of
my chest?
"Sleep
well, Bubster", I whisper as I walk out. "I love
you."
I am so
close....and yet so far.
Scared
April
20th, 2006
4:00 a.m.
I
admit it, I am scared.
Scared of
the obvious; scared of the not-so-obvious. Scared of
everything.
But there
is one thing that has managed to scare me to the point
where I start
shaking.
The
telephone.
Yesterday
it rang at 7:00 a.m., waking me from a dead sleep that
had begun
only two hours before.
Ring
The caller
id said it was from the hospital Bubba was in.
Ring
My heart
starts racing, pounding furiously.
Ring
Do I
answer? It can't be good news.
Ring
I think I
am about to hyper-ventilate.
Hello
Bubba is
ok, says his doctor. He is only calling to give me an
update on how he did overnight.
I am thankful but shaken.
This scene
repeats itself over and over, everytime the phone
rings.
Like just
now.
It is 4
a.m.
It is a
wrong number.
I am
shaking.
Update
April
20th, 2006
8:30 a.m.
A morning
update from the doctor tells me that Bubba continues to
show small signs of
improvement but she is concerned because he won't
eat.
She'd like
to send him home but at the same time worries he will get
weaker and
dehydrated.
So later
today, Sarah and I will try feeding him in the hospital.
I hope the
sight of his favorite blondes will make him happy enough
to want to eat.
Trouble
in Traffic
April
20th, 2006
10:00 a.m.
A quick
errand has me talking to a trucker.
The
trucker's not listening but I am talking
anyway.
You see, my
mind everywhere and anywhere except where it should be
has placed me
and my car directly in front of a truck trying to make a
turn; a truck that has the
right of way.
The trucker
throws up his hands in disgust at me.
So I use
hand signals too...trying to tell him that I'm
sorry.
My apology
is clearly not accepted and he continues to look angry as
the light
changes - stopping both of us from going
anywhere.
I'm
sorry, Mr. Trucker.
You see, it's been a rough week.
My Bubster is dying.
I haven't really slept in days...
and if you give me five more minutes, I can tell
you
what else is happening in my life and maybe
you'll understand that I feel like the
weight of the world is on my
shoulders
The light
changes.
The trucker
drives away.
I guess he
didn't have time to listen to the rest of my
story.
One
Lick at a Time
April
20th, 2006
1:30 p.m.
More
trouble in traffic on the way to see Bubba-Dog - I
narrowily miss being part of
an accident on the freeway - leaves me seriously
shaken.
But the
sight of the Bubster talking to Sarah (yes, they talk and
all the time) calms me down.
Between
Sarah and I, we have managed to transport his entire
"dining room" to the
specialty center -- the thought being that his own bowl,
food stand, towels, box, etc...
will allow him to relax enough to want to eat.
It
does.
But the
process is slow....and it has to be done Bubba's
way.
His
elevated food stand has two compartments -- one for a
bowl of water, the other for food.
I put his food bowl in the right compartment -- at home
it's usually on the left side.
Bubba
stares into the bowl; sniffs it and them procedes to put
his head into the empty
compartment on the left side.
He repeats
this several times until it occurs to us that he may want
the bowl on the
other side.
He does.
And when we put it there, he slowly begins to eat...one
slow lick at a time.
Sarah
begins to cry as I silently thank God.
It is a
sight we did not think we would ever see
again.
It is a
sign of life.
April
20th, 2006
7:30 p.m.
An
earlier update tells me that Bubba threw up a few hours
after we left. It is
disappointing to hear but not surprising.
In the
evening, he does eat again -- half a cup -- and that is
good.
If all is
well in Bubba's world tomorrow he may be able to come
home.
Now
wouldn't that be a miracle?
April
20th, 2006
Midnite
"Earlier
tonight Bubba tore out his IV.
Now that's a sign that he's getting better...and
stronger."
A
late night update from doctors
Bubba
comes Home
April
21st, 2006
6:00 p.m.
Bubba
is home!
They are
words I thought I may not have the chance to write, so
let me write them
again -- over and over.
Bubba
is home!
Bubba is home!
Bubba is home!
Now I must
say:
Thank
you God!
Thank you God!
Thank you God!
That
said:
Thank
you!
Thank you!
Thank you!
To all of
you who prayed; sent white light; thought good
thoughts.
To those who read the blog daily for updates; wrote
emails and called.
To the people that went out of their way to help me thru
this.
Thank
you!
I am eternally grateful.
Now the
details....
Bubba's two
favorite blondes, Sarah and I, picked him up early this
evening and we
were both pleasantly surprised to see him walk out with
no support harness or help.
He is a bit
wobbly and I am not going to be letting him walk around
the pool by himself
anytime soon, but he is walking.
The first
order of business upon arrival home was to greet his
favorite tree with a good
marking -- announcing to all the four-footed friends on
the block that the Bubster is back
in business.
A small
meal and it was time to rest -- although he hasn't really
slept yet.
Bubba's
blond eyebrows seem to be frowning a bit and I worry he's
not feeling well but I
suppose that's to be expected.
Now, I must
run to watch over him....
Meanwhile,
please dont' stop praying.
Being
Back
April
22nd, 2006
4:00 a.m.
Both the
Bubster and I have been sleeping soundly now for three
hours.
It's
probably the first time that both of us have had so much
uninterrupted sleep
since the night before he got sick.
But I awake
to check on him -- he hasn't moved since going to bed,
sleeping in the
same position so I wake him to switch sides.
Once up, I
let him stretch his legs and as he walks around, he
regurgitates. It is a small
but smelly regurg of dinner combined with a little
phlegm. There is also a little bit of
blood.
Note
here to people reading who do not have Mega-E dogs:
Unfortunately phlegm and
regurg is an all too common topic amongst those of us
living with these special pups.
I often mention the unmentionable here for the benefit of
Mega-E moms and dads.
So after a
short walk outside, here I am steam-cleaning the carpet
at 4 a.m.
Note
here to my friend who just last week was talking about
what a glamorous life
I must lead: Please reread above paragraph.
;-)
But it is
all good...after all, cleaning the carpet means Bubba is
back!
April
22nd, 2006
8:00 a.m.
You
would think I'm a compulsive cleaner.
I'm
not.
But yes,
here I am steam-cleaning the carpet...again.
Sarah has
arrived to help me with Bubba this morning and he has
started the day by
throwing-up...twice.
Both times
it is phlegm and a Pepcid the doctor prescribed. The
third Pepcid, and
later a small meal, manage to stay down.
It is a
busy day here as postponed projects finally begin...I
would have liked to wait
but couldn't.
Right now
everything still seems so overwhelming but at least when
the phone rings I
don't jump out of my skin and stop breathing.
Meanwhile,
Bubba is busy staring at everyone and everything but
makes no attempt to
participate as he normally would have.
Things are
far from normal and I wonder if they ever will be
again.
April
22nd, 2006
1:00 p.m.
The Bubster
eats.
The Bubster
throws up.
One step
forward, two steps backward.
It is time
for another prayer.
April
22nd, 2006
3:30 p.m.
What
goes down is not staying down.
Bubba
continues to throw up right after eating.
He is
hungry but is starting to associate his food bowl with
vomiting.
I am hoping
a nebulizer treatment will help alleviate the
phlegm.
Prayers are
needed.
April
22nd, 2006
4:30 p.m.
The Bubster
is still throwing up...he can keep nothing
down.
It does not
look good.
I have just
given him a shot of Reglan (managing in the process to
give myself a little too
with a good stab to my thumb) and now the nebulizer
treatment with Albuterol and
saline.
If in the
next hour he does not show some improvement, I will be
taking him to the
emergency room.
Please keep
him in your thoughts.
April
22nd, 2006
8:30 p.m.
I
cannot bring myself to write what I am thinking for fear
that it will become real.
Bubba has
stopped throwing up but is still not doing
well.
Donna came
over to help me feed him; administer subcutaneous fluids
and other necessities
to make him more comfortable.
I have
spoken to the emergency room for guidance and if things
deteriorate to the
point where he is in pain, then I will rush him
there.
There is
not much that can be done except pray.
April
22nd, 2006
11:30 p.m.
My brave
boy is holding his own tonight.
Since the
injection and nebulizer treatment this afternoon Bubba
has been able to
keep down three small meals -- by far, not enough to
sustain him but with the additional
fluids it will hopefully keep him hydrated.
I am now
waking him every 90 minutes so that we can take a very
short walk and then
eat something.
In half an
hour he will get another nebulizer treatment -- again
with Albuterol and
saline mixed together.
I am not
giving him the full vial of Albuterol because of his
heart...doctors have
discovered a slight murmur (a 2 on a scale of 1 to 6) and
since Albuterol can be a
stimulant, I am diluting it.
In
addition, he is on a treatment of Baytril and
Amoxicillin, both prescribed for
21 days.
As for me,
well I think most of you can imagine how I feel
tonight.
I know that
this is part of the cycle of life -- the beginning, the
end -- but endings
have always saddened me and when it comes to saying
good-bye, it is difficult beyond words.
Now I will
go back to watching over one of the best persons I know,
Bubba, who just
happens to be a dog.
Noble,
loving, loyal...a friend indeed.
That is my
Bubba, my friend for 14 years.
I cannot
remember being this sad in a very long time.
A
New Day
April
23rd, 2006
7:00 a.m.
A new day
has dawned and Bubba is here to see it.
A short
walk -- where he stopped to smell the flowers -- and a
Pepcid and our day has
officially begun.
In about 20
minutes, I will try feeding him his first meal of the
day...the first of many,
that he will eat and keep down, I hope.
Wish us
luck....please.
April
23rd, 2006
Midnite
A
miracle
Tonight,
for the first time in a week, I smiled.
Bubba had a
good day; a normal day for a 15 year old.
He napped,
ate, went on lots of walks and had beautiful women visit
him all day
long -- what more can a boy ask for?
A week ago
today, at this exact time, a doctor was telling me that
Bubba was going
to die in a matter of hours....and I thought I was
too.
But after
going to hell and back, here we are...the two of
us.
I know the
road to recovery is a long one...and we may never
make it to our destination
but today we are here, together.
And that's
all that matters.
A
Roller-Coaster Ride
April
24th, 2006
4:30 a.m.
Two hours
after going to sleep the sound of Bubba continuously
swallowing wakes
me up.
He is
foaming again, only slightly, but it tells me that he may
need to throw up so
we go for a little walk.
I have
given him a Carafate dissolved in water so that if he
does vomit, his esophagus
will be coated.
We sit up
for awhile and the nausea seems to pass but he has a
slight fever of 102.7
which I need to watch.
In just a
few hours we have a follow-up appointment with his doctor
at the specialty
center.
This is a
roller-coaster ride.
April
24th, 2006
8:30 a.m.
Hourly
temperature checks show Bubba's temperature has gone down
to 101.3 - normal.
Around 6,
the Bubster was given a Reglan and later a saline-only
nebulizer treatment in
hopes that it will help break up the thick phlegm that
plagues many Mega-E dogs.
At 7:45
a.m. he begins the swallowing again and shortly
thereafter vomits twice.
Both times,
small quantities of clear phlegm. The second pile has
some dried blood in
it -- of which yes, I took a picture of to show the
doctor.
I let his
stomach settle before giving him a Pepcid and letting him
drink water, which I
usually don't do (he gets it mixed in with his food)
because he has trouble with it -- another
Mega-E curse. We then sit in the box for ten minutes to
make sure it all went down and now
he's fine.
In a few
minutes, we leave for his doctor's
appointment.
I need a
nap.
April
24th, 2006
11:30 a.m.
Bubba!
Bubba!
Bubba, come here!
Good boy, good boy!
My
cockatiel Birdie-Boy talking to
his buddy Bubba, who's not here
With
the exception of Birdie-Boy calling Bubba-Dog, the house
is empty.
Doctors at
the specialty center have decided to do an ultrasound on
Bubba to
try and determine what is causing him to
vomit.
In
addition, they will also be taking more chest x-rays to
monitor the aspiration
pneumonia, so he will be spending the day
there.
The
vomiting, along with some other symptoms, indicates he
may also have IBD:
Inflammatory Bowel Disease.
While the
best way to diagnose IBD would be thru a biopsy,
that's not doable so
most likely doctors will begin to treat him as if he has
it and see what happens.
Hopefully,
the new ultrasound will give us a clearer picture of
what's happening
inside the Bubster.
Meanwhile
the Bubster seemed to enjoy his car ride there; hanging
out the window
and all that other good doggy stuff.
Minutes
after leaving Bubba, a telephone call advises me that
there is a family
emergency that needs my attention...now.
"I'm all
attentioned out", I say.
Did I
mention that I need a nap?
April
24th, 2006
Midnite
To really
know how the Bubster and I are doing, you pretty much
have to ask us
every hour on the hour.
Those of
you who follow the blog daily know how quickly things can
change here.
Today was
one of those days.
We started
off bad....got worse and then got better again.
I know,
it's confusing.
The
important thing is that right now, at this very minute,
both Bubba and I are
smiling.
Well,
Bubba's actually napping but since napping makes him so
happy, I am sure he is
smiling on the inside.
Doctors
report that his chest x-rays look very good and that the
pneumonia is almost
gone.
Now there's
something to smile about!
As for the
ultrasound, it did not show anything abnormal.
I am
relieved but have to admit that I was sort of hoping it
would show something that
would help figure out why he throws up but the doctor
said that in Bubba's case, "no news
is good news".
So, there's
something else to smile about!
The Bubster
was sent home with a paw-full of Reglan shots -- he seems
to do much better
on the shots than with the pills -- and next Monday he
will start the treatment for IBD
with Prednisone.
And even
though he spent the greater part of the day at the doggy
hospital, Bubba's
appetite was bigger and better than ever.
All that,
plus a handful of other little goodies, have us smiling
tonight.
Thank
God!
A
Roller-Coaster Ride II
April
25th, 2006
4:30 a.m.
I don't
even need to look at the clock to know what time it
is.
The sound
of Bubba swallowing away tells me today's ride is
starting.
A short
walk; a small vomit of the clear phlegm and a shot of
Reglan later, the nausea
has passed and Bubba is sleeping peacefully
again.
The entire
episode lasts less than 10 minutes.
Until
later.....I have to go vacuum now.
April
25th, 2006
10:30 a.m.
In the
upside-down world that my life is right now, things are
holding steady with the
Bubster this morning.
And that is
a good thing.
The shot of
Reglan seems to have calmed his nausea and he has not
thrown up again.
So, in
TV-speak, "the patient is in stable condition and
resting comfortably".
Back
to the Hospital
April
25th, 2006
3:00 p.m.
Bubba
hasn't stopped throwing up.
I am taking
him back to the hospital....sorry to ask again, but can
you please say another
prayer?
It just
isn't looking good.
My heart is
breaking again.
April
25th, 2006
4:45 p.m.
Doctors are
keeping the Bubster overnight for observation and to
administer fluids.
More and
more it is looking like IBD is causing the continuous
vomiting but doctors
can't start him on Prednisone yet because of his recent
surgery.
That is
really the only hope that I have left...that it is IBD
and that once he starts
the new medication he will feel better.
If you'd
only seen him yesterday, he was great!
And then
today, yet another setback.
On another
note, there is so much other overwhelming "stuff" going
on (unrelated to the
Bubster) that I would need another blog just to tell
you.
But now and
always, my priority is Bubba.
I will be
talking to doctors later and will post their
update.
Again,
please say a prayer for Bubba, one of the nicest "boys"
you could ever meet.
And if you
have a prayer to spare, could you please say one for me
too?
April
25th, 2006
Midnite
I woke
him up to check on him and now
he's standing here looking at me saying
'Are you going to take me out or what?'.
An update from the Vet's
Several
updates thru-out the night all tell me the same
thing...Bubba is well.
It is music to my ears.
According
to doctors, he had one vomit or regurg at 6:00 pm and
nothing more.
He's been fine ever since.
See what I
mean about the ups and downs?
Bubba
is Dying
April
26th, 2006
6:00 p.m.
The Bubster
is dying.
There is
only one small chance that he will pull thru. The next 12
hours are crucial.
His fever
is raging at 106.8 and doctors have started the
Prednisone. They don't know what is happening to him but
say he is not in pain so they want to give him one more
chance to rally back.
A cold bath
and wet towels helped lower the fever to 103.8 while I
was there but then it went back up to 105.4...and then
down again to 104.5.
If there is
no improvement by tomorrow morning, then it will be time
to say goodbye to my best friend.
Please pray
that if indeed it is the time to let him go, that the
Angels guide him gently to the other side.
And that I
will have the strength to say goodbye to my
boy.
My heart is
no longer breaking...tonight, a part of it is
dying.
The
End is Near
April
27th, 2006
10:40 a.m.
It looks
like today is the day.
The day I
hoped, and I know all of you did too, wouldn't come for
awhile longer.
I prayed
all night long for Bubba's fever to break...and finally
around 5 o'clock this morning, it did.
I thought
it was a miracle.
Maybe it
was, maybe it is, but the truth is now I need another
one.
The problem
is time has run out...and now doctors tell me that Bubba
just doesn't look well.
They have
done all they can do.
I am now
leaving to the hospital where the spiritual counselor to
animals and other friends
will meet me.
I must
still decide on whether or not to bring him home first
and then say goodbye here.
So, with
the heaviest and most painful heart you can imagine, I
again come to all of you for prayers...this time for the
Angels to guide my boy back home.
And an
extra one for me, please.
Updating
the site is very difficult now as the web server is
experiencing difficulties so
there may not be anything here until tomorrow.
But please
know that all of you and your prayers are what got us
this far.
And for
that, the Perfect Gentleman and I will be eternally
grateful.
April
27th, 2006
6:45 p.m.
Tonight,
the Bubster is back home.
If only for
awhile.
Minutes
after I saw him walking at the hospital this afternoon
and when he kissed my face hello, I knew his final
journey must be made from home...his home.
When Donna
picked me up to go and see Bubba, I had made my
decision...it was time to let my boy rest.
I had gone
there to say goodbye. Even the arrangements for Bubba's
burial on Saturday had been made...but he just wasn't
ready.
Cindy Well,
the animal communicator, felt the same thing.
Bubba
needed to come home.
Later, I
will explain what the doctors said; the medical terms,
etc...
It is not
good and he is not well. What is killing him, doctors
don't know, but it is not the Mega-E or the result of the
surgery for bloat.
Bubba is
hungry and eating but throws up minutes later.
Just a
little while ago he devoured a "Frosty Paws" (doggie ice
cream, of sorts) only to return it after.
So unless a
last minute miracle finds us here, then tomorrow morning
a veterinarian will make a house call.
Until then,
I will sit with him, hold him, and tell him over and over
again how much he is loved.
And I will
say one more prayer.
How
do you say goodbye?
April
28th, 2006
3:00 a.m.
How
do you say goodbye to one whom you
love?
How
can you can goodbye to one whom you
love?
As I write
this the beautiful Bubster sleeps. His chest gently
rising and falling in a steady pattern.
It is a
sign of life.
Tonight I
have told Bubba a million and one times how much I love
him and how proud I am of him.
I thank him
over and over for always being there; for caring; for
loving me so.
And
tonight, as he has done so many times before, he licked
my tears away.
And I
wonder, who will wipe away my tears now? Who will care as
much as you, my dear friend?
Who will
lay at my bedside when I am sick? Who will protect me
now?
Oh,
Bubba-Dog! You mean so many different things to me...you
stand for so much.
And that is
why, as you sleep so gently, I can only cry at the
thought of saying goodbye to you.
I cannot
stop crying for you.
I cannot
stop crying for me.
All day,
everyone has cried for you, my darling
Bubster.
Cyndey-Sue
cannot stop crying...leaving your bedside only to get
home and call right away to see how you are and cry some
more.
Donna
missed an entire day of work to be with you and tonight
she cannot sleep with worry.
Linda sets
her alarm for 3:00 a.m. -- calling as I write this. She
knows I cannot sleep and offers to come hold your paw
while I get some rest.
Across the
country, people are praying for a dog they only know as
the perfect gentleman. My in-box is filled with
tear-stained emails and they are all for you
Bubba-Doggy.
But a
counter-top filled with medicine no longer seems able to
make you feel better although I continue to give you each
and every dose with so much love...so much
hope.
Just like
you eat everything I make for you with so much love...so
much hope.
But your
body rejects the love and hope we are pouring into it and
pours it right back out.
I have
prayed so hard, on my hands and knees. I have cried a
river. Searched for answers here, there and seemingly
everywhere.
Yet I
cannot save you.
Oh,
Bubba-Doggy.
Do you know
how hard I tried, son?
Do you know
how much I love you?
The
time has arrived
April
28th, 2006
11:00 a.m.
I think it
is time to make that call.
Oh, God,
how do you schedule an appointment with death?
I don't
think I have the courage, the strength.
The night
has been long but oh so short.
There is
not enough time.
Bubba
sleeps in my arms, his heart beating loud and strong. His
brown eyes occasionally
glancing up at me filled with so much love and
trust.
There comes
a moment when suddenly his heart seems to
slow.
It's
okay, son.
Pinche is waiting for you.
You can go and meet him now.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
And I'll be okay son, don't worry.
I am
lying.
I will not
be okay but I know he needs to hear that for he is
hanging on for me. I know that.
But no, it
was not the time.
All night,
the Bubster and I fight his fever...it goes up, it comes
down. Cold towels go on,
they come off.
I spend the
night laying next to his bed on the floor, my face in
front of his. I want him to know that I am here for him,
that he is not alone.
His breath
is warm and it gently blows on my face.
How can
something so alive be dying?
I must make
the calls now.
Oh God,
please let me be doing the right thing.
Oh God,
please give me strength.
4:30
p.m.
April
28th, 2006
1:00 p.m.
The
decision has been taken and the arrangements
made.
Bubba will
be leaving us to meet Pinche at approxiamtely 4:30 p.m.
-- Pacific Time.
There are
no words to describe the emotions I am feeling right
now.
Bubba is
all that I have and I am about to lose him.
Please pray
for him.
Please pray
for me.
This is
truly the saddest day of my life.
Bubba's
Journey has Ended
April
28th, 2006
4:50 p.m.
Bubba
died today at 4:50 p.m.
At that
exact time, a huge part of me died too.
The Bubster
just went to sleep in my arms as I told him over and over
again that I loved him.
It was very
fast and painless and Bubba was surrounded by the love of
Cyndey-Sue, Donna and Linda, who were here with
us.
Bubba's
last day on earth was filled with visits from all the
women he loved and who loved him.
Women like
Claudia who lived here with Bubba for more than a
year...he was her baby then, her companion and running
partner. She cried as she thanked him for all the
memories.
The gentle
Sarah spent some quality time with the Bubster too.
Talking, like they have for
the last five months.
And the
phone never stopped ringing as friends and family from
afar called in their love.
It was a
powerful show of emotion for the perfect gentleman...my
boy, my son, my pup.
There is
more to share but right now I can't even breathe my heart
aches so much.
For the
Bubster was so much more than just a dog to me...he was
my friend, my boy,
my confidant, my protector....Bubba was all that
more.
He loved me
more than any one else...and now he is gone and my world
is empty.
It has been
an incredibly painful year...marked by sorrow and love
lost.
Before
today though, no matter what, Bubba was here for me. He
was the only thing
I could count on always being here.
But now I
am really alone.
My house is
empty, as is my heart.
Tomorrow, I
will bury a piece of my life...and say one more goodbye
to my baby boy.
I am
devastated beyond words.
Oh,
Bubba...Bubba...Bubba.
Another
Goodbye
April
29th, 2006
9:00 a.m.
The day is
gray here in Los Angeles, as is my heart.
In a few
moments, I will be leaving to go and bury a part of my
life, a part of my heart.
14 years of
memories, of love and devotion.
How do you
put that into the ground?
I know, I
know....the memories aren't being buried, they never will
be.
It is so
final, nonetheless.
It is so
heartbreaking.
April
29th, 2006
10:00 p.m.
At 1:00
this afternoon I buried the Bubster.
It was one
of the hardest things I have ever done in my
life.
And there
are no words that could ever convey my sense of loss and
the pain I am
feeling.
Bubba was
sent on his final journey lying on a blanket that Linda
had lovingly made for
him just a few short weeks ago.
In his
paws, a beautiful rosary given to me by Dan. I cannot
tell you how often I held
it in my hands these last months as I prayed for many a
miracle.
Next to
Bubba's heart, a picture of Pinche because knowing him,
he's off on a cloud
somewhere eating a milkbone....the picture will help
Bubba and the Angels find him.
Around the
Bubster's neck, his purple collar...his name tag still
attached in hopes that
an Angel will read it and say "Hi Bubba!" like I
did 14 years ago.
Bubba will
say "You know me!" and the Angel will take him
under his or her wing.
The tag
also has Bubba's address and phone number should he ever
need to come home
again.
Next to the
tag, a gold-colored Angel hangs.
I had
bought it from a lady in Wisconsin for a few reasons. One
of them being the artist
signed it on the back with the name "Gigi".
I hope the
Angel will guide him safely to heaven.
In life,
Bubba wore a Guardian Angel medallion around his
neck...with a dog on it.
I am now
wearing it...having traded my angel for his.
In his box,
his leash because just the mere sight of it brought Bubba
so much happiness in life.
The leash and the word "walk" could make him jump so high
he could reach the stars.
I hope his
Angel will walk him...for old times sake.
Oh, how I
wish I could walk him again!
I also sent
a ball in his box.
Now Bubba
wasn't the ball-playing-frisbee-catching kind of dog...I
used to always say that
he preferred to curl up with a good book
instead.
Truth be
told, the Bubster just wasn't good at chasing a
ball.
He was all
left paws...but boy did he bring a smile to our face when
he went for it.
And the few
times he actually caught the ball?
Well, he
was the happiest, proudest dog you had ever
seen.
So, his
ball went with him. If anything, I know Pinche will like
it.
On the
inside cover of his casket, a stamp of St. Francis who
had watched over his bed since
he got sick. Next to him, St. Charbel to whom I have
asked for many a miracle.
There was
also a cross made from straw and blessed just last week,
a gift from his Aunt Claudia.
I wanted to
send so many of his favorite things so he could have them
on his journey but
what I really wanted was not to send him at
all.
I want him
back home where he belongs.
Accompanied
by Cyndey-Sue and Linda, we spent just over an hour with
him. Then they
left me alone for awhile to say my final good-bye in
private.
I prayed
with him.
I prayed
for him.
I told him
again how much he meant to me and how proud I was of how
hard he fought to live;
how much I loved being his "mom"; and how much I loved
and missed him.
And I told
him that many people were crying his loss today...so many
that didn't even know him
but had grown to love him too.
I scratched
his ears....oh, my baby Bubster's beautiful ears...and
how he loved to have them
scratched just so.
Then I ask
Bubba to watch over me from the other side...to protect
me as he so valiantly did
for our 14 years together.
And that if
he could, to send me a sign that he was
alright.
Then I gave
him one last kiss.
And my
heart - the pieces that are left of it, crumbled even
more.
Oh God, I
miss him so much.
Emptiness
April
30th, 2006
7:00 a.m.
For the
second night in a row I have slept with all the lights in
my house on....fully dressed
and on the sofa, the TV blaring.
The last
few weeks of the Bubster's life I had begun sleeping in
sweat outfits, tennis shoes
by my bed...just in case I had to rush him to the
hospital in the middle of the night.
I leave the
lights on because I am scared to turn them
off.
Scared of
what?
I don't
know but I am scared.
Maybe it is
because Bubba is no longer here to protect me. Even at
15, with his hearing having become selective and his
sleep so deep, I still felt safe with him next to
me.
I no longer
feel that.
I sleep
only because I am exhausted - drained emotionally and
physically from everything that
has happened this year.
So much
loss, so much pain and it all happened at
once.
I do not
dream -- nothing, not one single image yet I awake
several times breathless.
My heart
aches continuously; often skipping a beat.
It happens
now a million times a day...like yesterday when I arrived
home to find that
workers had all the doors of my home standing wide open
and for a fraction of a second
I worry Bubba has gotten out.
But I just
buried Bubba.
There is no
more Bubba.
In every
room, there are reminders of a life lost.
Obvious
ones like a kitchen countertop filled with medications
and the blender standing
ready to blend the Bubster's breakfast.
The
steam-cleaner next to the wet-and-dry vacuum stand
silently in the corner...waiting to
be called in to use.
But there
is nothing to clean anymore.
The
not-so-obvious reminders...an empty space on the couch
where the Bubster would have
been curled up; his favorite tree, standing dry and
unmarked this morning and an emptiness
in both heart and home that cannot be filled.
The
reminders are everywhere.
But Bubba
is nowhere.
One
Week Ago
April
30th, 2006
11:00 a.m.
A
smile says a thousand words
My smile
could not have been any bigger a week ago
today.
Bubba had a
100% better-than-normal day!
It was
exactly one-week after his surgery for bloat and
everything was on track.
No
vomiting, no gagging.
The Bubster
had eaten 8 meals -- small meals but eight of them!! A
total of three cans
of California Natural....more than 1500
calories.
Stitches
and all, he had taken Sarah for several walks that
day...napping peacefully
in-between.
How much
better could it get?
I remember
that night so well...while at work I checked in with
Sarah often and each update
was great.
I remember
walking down the street, realizing that I was
smiling for the first time in weeks.
Life seemed
so filled with hope, so promising.
I came hope
to find a bouncing Bubba...inspiring Sarah and I to take
a series of pictures of
the Bubster.
I was so
happy!
How could
then, seven days later, Bubba be dead?
It just
doesn't seem possible.
The
Plan Failed
May
1, 2006
7:00 a.m.
After
another night on the couch, lights and television
blaring, I am off to an early start today -- on the road
by 5:30 this morning.
Conspicuously
absent, Bubba-Dog.
He should
be in the backseat...that was the plan, after
all.
But the
plan failed.
It failed
me..
It failed
Bubba.
So, there
is no Bubster in the backseat...wind blowing thru his
hair as he enjoys a car ride.
It is in
the details that make up the mosaic of our lives that I
most notice his absence.
Last night
was particularly hard.
My first
day back at work finds me reaching for my cell phone many
times over.
"It's
time to call Sarah", I think, "for a
Bubba-Update".
But there
is no Bubba.
There will
be no more updates.
It's
over.
The plan
failed.
Bad,
Very Bad
May
4, 2006
1:30 p.m.
I woke up
this morning gasping for air; my heart beating so fast I
thought it would burst out of my chest.
The stress
of this week has been unbelievable.
So much has
happened -- none of it good -- that I haven't even had
time to grieve my darling boy.
I don't
know what's in the air or in the water but all around me
there are problems...and so much pain.
A family
emergency continues to take center stage and has been
draining beyond belief.
Close
friends are facing horrible problems of their own and I
have to be there for them -- this as another close family
member suffers a painful accident and has to be rushed to
the hospital.
And then
today, more bad news...a flood of telephone calls as
headlines report that a close friend of mine has
unexpectedly died.
Valentin
Trujillo, a legend in Mexican cinema, leaves behind his
wife and four year old son, in addition to his grown
children.
Although
distance and years separated us, the love he and his
family showed me will always be treasured in my
heart.
I am
devastated by the news.
And
Bubba....oh, my baby Bubba!
The main
reason my heart aches so much.
I cry for
him in-between crying for everyone else.
But this
weekend I will spend grieving my baby boy -- alone with
my pain.
It is all
still so overwhelming.
Wherever
You Go, There You Are
May
8, 2006
In other
words, you can run, but you can't hide.
If I had a
dollar for everytime I said that to someone, I would
surely have enough to pay for Bubba's medical
bills.
But never
being the kind to take my own advice, this weekend I
ran.
The pain
followed.
It shared a
suite with me; laid next to me by a lake and had dinner
with me everynight.
The
facialist couldn't extract it; the masseuse couldn't
knead it away and the mud bath didn't drown it.
My heart
still ached.
The feeling
that I need to call and check on the Bubster haunted
me.
The
realization that there is no one I need to call and check
on haunted me even more.
As I walked
a beautiful tree-lined path to my room, I wondered if
Bubba was there with me but a glimpse of my shadow told
me no.
The first
day away was harder than I imagined.
There are
couples everywhere. I feel out of place.
I don't
even own a dog anymore.
By
Saturday, I begin to appreciate the solitude. It is what
I needed. It has given me time to think, to prioritize
what is really important in my life.
It gives me
the silence needed to mourn my friend who, far away in
another land, was being buried.
I am there,
if only in thought and prayer.
And I mourn
my baby boy.
Oh, how I
miss Bubba!
I want to
remember our last day together but I cannot go there yet.
The memory is still so raw, the pain so real.
His picture
stares back at me so alive -- how then, could he be so
dead?
Sunday
comes and I must return to reality....an empty home, an
empty heart.
Oh
Bubba...you were my constant...the one I could count on
always and now you are not here and I feel so
lost.
So, so
lost.
Everyone
Sees Bubba, But Me
May
9, 2006
If you've
read Pinche's Journey you know that I am a great believer
in "signs".
And while I
don't live my life based on them, or the lack of them,
they have in the past given me both hope and
comfort.
When Pinche
died suddenly in 2004, I asked for a "sign" from
above...a sign that he was okay.
And just
like he had been in life, a real talker, Pinche sent me a
flood of them.
So many and
so obvious that they were, even the non-believers,
non-spiritual people I knew begun to believe.
The night I
finally realized Bubba was dying -- one of the hardest
nights in my entire life -- I asked him to please send me
a sign from the other side.
Actually, I
think I begged him..
Please,
Bubba.
Please, son.
Send me a sign that you're alright.
Send me a sign that you're watching over me.
Please, baby boy.
But there
has been nothing.
Nothing at
all...no dreams, no signs, nothing I have seen or
felt.
And no, it
is not that I am thinking too hard or too much about it.
It just hasn't happened.
But Bubba
has appeared to others...both near and far.
Here are
their stories.
Goodbye
Gigi,
I woke this morning at 4:48 a.m. wide eyed and alert
with
a strong sense that I was in Bubba's presence.
It was an amazing, peaceful feeling.
Bubba was healthy and strong, licking my face.
I never experienced anything like that in my life.
I know I was awake.
I hugged my pillow as if it were him, falling back to
sleep.
He crossed the bridge and he's doing well.
He sent his love to us.
Dan
With Dan's
permission, I have copied above the email he sent me the
day after Bubba died.
Bubba loved
Dan very, very much.
As I have
written before, they spent many a day and night together
-- a man and his dog -- a dog and his man.
It is my
belief that Bubba needed to say goodbye...a final goodbye
to one that he had loved so very much.
I thank Dan
for sharing his story with me and allowing me to share it
with all of you.
Bubba?
Three days
later, a friend of mine also has a vision of a happy and
healthy Bubba-Dog.
The details
of her sighting are very personal but I can share that he
guided her out of what was a very delicate if not
dangerous moment.
In life,
she had helped him so much.
In death,
he had wanted to return the favor.
Dreaming
of Bubba
This next
story is probably the most easily understood...the most
easily explained.
Sarah has
seen Bubba...if only in her dreams.
The gentle
soul who took such good care of my baby, continues to
protect him even as she sleeps.
In one
dream they are together, she says, during a horrific
tornado.
She hides
behind a tree and shelters the Bubster with her
body...holding him tightly to her so the fierce winds
won't blow him away.
We had both
held on to him tightly but the winds of life, the winds
of death, finally took him.
But thank
you, Sarah...thank for you for protecting him.
Bubba
en Español
An email
from Mexico arrives.
It is from
a friend...a frequent guest on my radio and tv
shows.
Bubba
is sending smoke signals.
You need to pay attention.
Call me.
There is
nothing like an email with the word "Bubba" in it to get
me dialing so I phone Mexico right away.
"Bubba
knows how alone you feel.
He will soon send you someone."
"I don't
want another dog."
"It's not a
dog. It's a person."
"I don't
want another dog.
It's a what?"
"A person,
Gigi."
"If I don't
want a dog, then I definitely don't want a person."
"Well, want
it or not Gigi, Bubba doesn't want you to be alone.
That's the message he gave me...he will soon send
someone
with the same qualities that you loved about him.
The qualities you keep telling your friends about.
You must keep an open mind and heart.
You must recognize the smoke signals Bubba will send you
too."
Oh,
dear.
Bubba is
sending me someone who likes to nap all day; slurps and
burps when he eats and occasionally has gas that can make
your hair curl.
All kidding
aside, the man and his message are very
serious.
The
qualities I keep telling my friends about?
Bubba's
undying, unfaltering love and loyalty, dedication and
adoration.
A million
questions and answers later, I know more of Bubba's
vision.
"Don't
worry, Gigi.
The Bubster's busy taking care of business.
Time will show you."
So, that's
why he hasn't written or called?
The thought
of Bubba being a matchmaker brings a smile to my face but
I am skeptical.
There is
one more story...that may or may not be a "sign" but I
have been asked to wait a few days before telling
it.
Meanwhile,
I will continue to wait for the Bubster to talk to
me.
Whying
May
11, 2006
Whying.
It's not a
word but it should be.
Two years
ago this month, I was whying away.
Two years
later, I am whying away again.
The only
difference is that this time I have more why's to deal
with.
So what is
"whying" you ask?
Or do you
know because you too have spent countless days and nights
whying?
Dictionary
of:
"Death and Dying - Loving and Losing"
Whying
(noun, adjective and/or verb):
when faced with unexplainable loss,
the art of asking 'why?' over and over
with no answer ever the right one;
often confused with whining - not the
same
Two years
ago I created the above definition to the word I made up
and posted it on Pinche's Journey.
The "why?"
stage is an often-visited place during the mourning
process.
And it's
usually followed by the "what-if" and "should have; could
have and would have" periods.
Yesterday,
I spent all day "whying and crying" over baby
Bubba.
Then, hit
with what a friend calls a "sucker punch" in my personal
life, I spend the entire night "whying and crying" away
the things people do that I will never
understand.
After being
up all night, exhaustion forces me to sleep at 10 am and
I only awake hours after I was supposed to have been at
work.
Hours...I
am panic-stricken as phone messages show that everyone is
worried...this isn't like me, they say.
No, it is
not.
It is, I
explain to those who need to know, just too much at the
same time.
Too much
pain, too much loss. The last months have been draining
and the real toll is only now beginning to
show.
It is
normal, say the wise ones I go to for
guidance.
But this
normal feels so abnormal.
Today
May
12, 2006
Bubba died
two weeks ago today.
And today
the reality of it all is really hitting home.
My empty
home.
The day he
died I was surrounded with friends.
The next
day, I buried him...again with my friends nearby.
Then I
worked...and then I ran.
I ran away
from the memories, from the pain, from everything and
everyone.
But today,
reality has finally sunk in.
And while
my friends have offered to be here right now, holding my
hand and listening me to ramble, I must be
alone.
It took way
too many days and way too many hits to the heart to
realize that there is no more hope.
The last
five months haven't been a dream. There are no miracles
to pray for anymore. There is no more hope.
Bubba is
gone.
Bubba is
dead.
And so is
everything he stood for.
I miss him
so much...his beautiful brown eyes, his love....oh, how
he loved me so!
I must let
go of the pain, my friends say...the pain of losing
everyone I loved.
After all,
they remind me, Bubba's resting and as I write this,
others are living their lives to the fullest... and I
must too.
So,
tomorrow, I will most likely run away again...but today I
will face my grief head-on.
And it's
arrived with a bull-dozer....charging into my heart full
steam ahead.
So bare
with me, my cyber-friends, because today there may be a
slew of posts as all the grief comes pouring
out.
And read
fast, because when the grief subsides I will most likely
hit "delete" on many entries for there is only so much I
can leave up here about myself.
This blog
was never intended to be about me...it was about Pinche,
then about Bubba.
But right
now, this and Bubba's tags that I wear around my
wrist are all I have left of him.
You
May
12, 2006
I just
logged on to my dog blog email site and again I am
overwhelmed.
So many of
you are still writing, so many of you care about us. What
used to be "us" and now is only me.
You write
that you are crying for me and for the beautiful Bubster,
an old dog you never met.
But if you
had met him, I promise you that you would have loved him.
He was such a good boy, such a good son. So noble, he
loved and trusted everyone.
Except for
cats, possums and squirrels.
You write
that you are praying for me...that I find peace and
someone who will love and cherish me.
I am crying
so much I can barely read your words but they are being
read by my heart.
From
Alabama, one family tells me that thru Bubba's Journey I
have become the daughter they never had.
You have no
idea what those words mean to me.
You have no
idea.
Many of you
have written sharing your own stories of loss...both of
your furry friends and others you have loved.
Thank you
for confiding in me...I promise that I will write you
back. Meanwhile, stay strong and know that you are not
alone.
We will
work our way thru this...together.
So thank
you...thank you so much from the bottom of my
heart.
Tears
in Heaven
May
12, 2006
Would
you know my name
If I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same
If I saw you in heaven?
I must
be strong
And carry on,
'Cause I know I don't belong
Here in heaven.
Would
you hold my hand
If I saw you in heaven?
Would you help me stand
If I saw you in heaven?
I'll
find my way
Through night and day,
'Cause I know I just can't stay
Here in heaven.
Time can
bring you down,
Time can bend your knees.
Time can break your heart,
Have you begging please, begging please.
Excerpt
from "Tears In Heaven"
Eric Clapton and Will Jennings
It is a
beautiful song.
Inspired by
the unbelievable grief of losing a child.
I cannot
imagine that pain.
But after l
listen to the song for the millionth time, I wonder 'Is
there a Heaven?'.
Really?
I know
Bubba had to die.
After all,
he was 15 years old-- 105 in our life time, give or take
a few decades.
And I was
so lucky to have had him all these years...happy and
healthy.
But death
often brings with it questions, doubts, insecurities.
I have had
to face so many disappointments this year...everything I
thought was true, wasn't.
And it
really is no one's fault but my own...for believing so
blindly.
It's like
if an earthquake came and cracked the foundation of my
life into a million pieces.
My
stability shattered and my faith tested to the point I
fear it no longer exists.
And then,
as if that wasn't enough, God made me send Bubba
home.
The only
good thing I had...the only thing I could really count
on....gone.
Now what do
I do?
Regret
May
12, 2006
I should
have tried harder.
I should
have done more.
As I watch
some short videos we took of Bubba moments before...I
realize I shouldn't have done it.
There had
to have been something else I could have done.
Maybe
that's why I have no peace.
Maybe
that's why there have been no signs.
He wasn't
ready to leave and I made him.
It's a
feeling I have had now for days but haven't wanted to
write about.
The Bubster
didn't want to go and doesn't understand why I made him
leave.
And I don't
either.
Broken
Heart Syndrome
May
12, 2006
I wasn't
going to write about this but something I just watched on
television changed my mind.
At the
insistence of several good friends, last week I made an
appointment with a Cardiologist/Internist for this coming
Monday, the 15th.
The
persistent ache in my heart, shortness of breath, leg
spasms and general stress makes it a good time for a
check-up.
I know
there is nothing seriously wrong with me and that's why I
didn't want to mention it.
Like many
others, I am just going thru a stressful period in my
life and my body is reflecting it.
But just
moments ago, I tuned into the last five minutes of ABC's
20/20 program which was about "Broken Heart
Syndrome".
For years I
have believed that people can indeed die from a broken
heart.
I know that
lately I have felt like I would.
On my radio
show, I spent countless hours talking to people who had a
lost a loved one for apparently no other reason than
their heart had been broken -- or stunned into
silence.
According
to the ABC report, doctors have found that a "broken"
heart can bring on physical maladies...many even mimic a
real heart attack.
And since I
know that many of you who have found my site are in the
process of grieving too, I thought you should read this
article.
Broken
Heart Syndrome
Bubba
Knows Better
May
13, 2006
2:00 a.m.
April
8, 2006
Oh Bubster,
you were so beautiful.
Even the
rose seems to bow in your presence. Beauty staring at a
beautiful soul.
You gave so
much, Bubba-Boy, asking for so little in
return.
All dogs
do, really.
That's
because they have it right. They get
it.
We
don't.
Ever notice
that dogs fall in love but never out of
love?
After all,
how can you fall out of love, if you were
in love?
Dogs know
that.
Their love
is genuine...the real deal.
They don't
care if they're 7 or 12. Or if you're 20 or
60.
They don't
need to keep up with the Jones', be it Fido Jones or
Rover Jones.
They don't
worry if the dog next door has a bigger bowl, bed or
bone.
They could
care less if the owner next door is younger and thinner
than you.
They don't
need their egos stroked or to be told how wonderful,
smart and
young looking they are by everyone who walks
by.
They don't
need someone else's attention to make them feel
important.
After all,
they love you....and that's enough.
A nice pat
on the head, belly rub or good ear-scratching will
do.
And if you
don't have time for it, that's ok too.
Because
once they love you, they're in love with you
forever.
When they
turn 7, they don't have a "mid-life crisis" or a
"seven-year itch".
They don't
"fight" with their feelings...what's there to struggle
with?
They love
you. You love them. Let's go for a walk! Or take a
nap!
They don't
spend hours wondering if the grass is greener next
door.
They don't
wake up one day and rip off their tags and
collars.
On the
contrary, they wear them proudly. The "clang-clang" of
their tags
telling the world that they belong to someone. And
someone belongs to them.
No filet
mignon tonight? No problem. Dry will do.
What counts
is that we're together.
Now, how
great is that?
Humans,
take a lesson.
Be more
like your dog and you'll be a better person.
Horoscope
"Dear
Gigi,
Here is your horoscope for Saturday, May 13:
You might be sinking under the burden of some old
emotions.
The sooner you take the time to address them,
the faster they'll resolve themselves.
Think about doing something physical to help release
them.
Embrace the love, happiness and respect you
deserve"
Sinking.
Now there's
a good verb to describe the feeling that I have had since
about last October, November.
For eight
months, I was sinking.
Not a life
preserver in sight.
I've
finally stopped sinking.
Now the
word is simply "sunk".
Two
Weeks
May
13, 2006
This is
where I ran to today.
Too
exhausted to go any further, plans are canceled and this
is where I spend my afternoon.
Grief can
be draining.
Guilt even
more so.
For now,
there is nothing that anyone can say to me that will
bring any consolation.
I feel like
I made a horrible mistake and there is no taking it
back.
Bubba
wasn't ready to go yet I pushed him over to the other
side.
He had kept
up his end of the bargain...to fight to live.
I didn't. I
let him down.
Euthanasia
is not all it's built up to be.
And that's
why there have been no "signs".
Why would
he come to me if he thinks I didn't want him around
anymore?
I spend the
afternoon apologizing...begging for
forgiveness.
I try to
explain that I thought it was time...doctors had said
there was nothing they could do.
I felt the
weight of the world on my shoulders and maybe I wasn't
thinking clearly... emergencies suddenly were everywhere
and love was nowhere.
I thought I
saw him crying...I thought...I shouldn't have thought, I
should have waited.
I should
have tried harder.
I am so
sorry, Bubba.
Oh God, I
am so sorry.
Regret,
Part Two
May
14, 2006
Sometimes,
in a desperate attempt to elicit a response from a loved
one, people (especially us women) do and say things that
make no sense.
For
example, a woman may suddenly blurt out to her husband
"You don't love me."
Does she
really think that?
Most
likely, no. But for whatever reason, she needs to hear
that he does indeed love her.
My posting
yesterday about guilt joining forces with grief was not
written because I needed to hear that I did the "right
thing".
It really
wasn't but it had that same effect.
The posting
elicited many a beautiful email - for that I thank
you.
And while I
value and read each email you send me - and one day I
promise to reply to each and every one - there really are
no words to console or make me feel better right now.
One day
your words may make sense to me.
Right now
though, after spending a tormented weekend after yet
another horrible week, there is nothing much in my life
that makes sense.
Most of you
reading this have had more than one dog or cat....and
while we love "all our kids" the same, there are some
with which you just have a different kind of a bond.
I had a
beautiful Beagle named Loli who lived to be 16 years old
who I had that bond with....and then there was Bubba.
It was a
feeling.
It was a
look.
It was
love.
And now,
it's all gone.
It's like
he never existed.
And I don't
know why.
Maybe
adogblog reader Sheila is right when she says it is
because I am still tormented by too many other
things.
Only
time will tell.
Only time
will heal.
Support
May
14, 2006
Thank you.
Support
for Bubba
The
Question
May
14, 2006
"So,
has everyone been asking you the famous
question?"
A Co-Worker
A co-worker
made the mistake of asking me how I was the other
day.
So, feeling
the need to include absolutely everyone in my pity party,
I told him.
It turned
out that he was also an animal lover so he understood --
sharing his own story of loss with me.
And then he
asked me if I'd been asked "the famous question".
The only
question I have been asked lately is "what credit card
will you be using today?"
The
question he was referring to was "So, are you going to
get another pet?"
When my
co-worker lost his beloved cat, he explained, he kept
hearing that "question".
"Funny",
he says, "When my father died no one asked me if I was
going to get a new father"
I had to
laugh....it was so true.
And yes,
many people have asked me if and when I am going to get
another dog.
And no, I
am not offended by the question or bothered by it. I know
it's well-meaning and comes from people who care.
The answer,
for now, is NO.
Because
Bubba was so much more than a "d-o-g".
He was my
boy, my baby, my friend and loyal companion.
Thru thick
and thin, Bubba was here.
He loved me
and I loved him.
It was as
simple as a little song that I took to singing to the
Bubster while he sat in his box.
"I
love you.
You love me.
It's as simple as...
1-2-3."
Everyday,
for almost five months, I sang that song to the
Bubster.
And then,
paws in hand, we would pray.
Love can be
so simple and yet so glorious.
So, the
answer is no.
Bubba
cannot be replaced.
True love
can never be replaced.
I
Dream of Bubba
May
18, 2006
I do dream
about the Bubster...but only when I am awake.
In the
technicolor world of the stories I dream when I am asleep
he is seemingly nowhere.
I have
always been a big dreamer...in every sense of the
word.
I dream
when I am awake.
I dream
when I am asleep.
And I
usually remember most of my dreams in vivid detail.
For days
after Bubba died, I could not remember a thing. Sleep was
one big blank. Not an image, not a sound.
Nothing.
But I have
started remembering my dreams again.
As always,
they are complicated...convoluted
There are
people I know in them and many that I don't.
I dream of
a woman who died decades ago...I know of her but did not
know her in life, yet she brings me an important message;
an explanation of sorts...but it is not related to
Bubba.
And there
are dogs in my dreams...yes, dogs abound.
Especially
a pug.
And that's
why I write this entry today...because while the pug
means nothing to me it may meaning something to one of
you.
The first
dream I have is that a pug has been living outside my
home (in a boat that is really there) for a long
time....going without care or food.
A man I
don't know is telling me this as he wipes him dry with a
towel.
The dog's
back is turned to me but I know it's a pug...although he
is dark in color.
The second
dream is much more detailed and seemingly has nothing to
do with a dog but the pug is there again.
I am at
some kind of party or event with someone from my
past.
He is about
to take a picture of me with a group of TV stars but the
camera does not work so I leave the group to check the
camera.
The man
from my past is angry at me and it is obvious to all
there.
As I
approach him, I notice his fingernails are very
long...especially for a man.
I comment
that to him and we have a conversation of a personal
nature but as we talk I notice that around his neck he
wears a silver chain with a silver medallion, the size of
a dime.
Etched on
the medallion is the face of a pug with a small diamond
next to it.
I can still
see it clearly in mind.
Another
dream has me being greeted by dozens of dogs...they are
all happy and healthy.
I am not
looking for mine but I know they are not there.
I awake
feeling that the dogs I have seen are yours, the dog blog
reader's.
Now, I have
seen Bubba in my dreams twice but it just doesn't seem to
count.
One dream,
I am sure is a direct result of thoughts that torment
me.
A good
friend of mine is petting a beautiful Bubster as he says
to me "but he looks so good, so healthy..."
The
unfinished sentence an implication of 'why are you
putting him down, then?'.
I awake
startled and in a cold sweat.
In another
dream, Bubba is lying in a bed next to my grandmother
(who died years ago).
Sitting on
the edge of the bed, a very handsome man with the most
beautiful smile.
I barely
have a chance to touch the Bubster, who seems
uninterested, when I wake up.
Later that
same day, I come across a movie poster with a picture of
my friend Valentin, the actor who died
recently.
It is from
a time long ago, when I did not know him, and shows a
handsome Valentin in his twenties...when he was one of
Mexico's leading men on the big screen.
He looks so
much like the man sitting on the bed.
But the
dream was so quick, so fleeting it really means nothing
to me.
There are
many more dreams...but no dogs in those.
Meanwhile,
there have been no "signs".
No word
from the Bubster.
So I
continue to wait.
An
Appointment for Bubba
May 19,
2006
"Hi
Gigi,
This is Dina with the mobile pet grooming service.
Just wanted to confirm Bubba's appointment tomorrow at 11
a.m.
See you both then."
Message
left on my voicemail today
To most,
they are trivial things.
An
appointment made in better times that now needs to be
cancelled.
Last night,
it was the pharmacist asking me if the prescription I was
filling was for Bubba or Gigi.
I would get
Bubba's Albuterol for his nebulizer treatment at the
regular pharmacy so now we are both listed there.
"No,
it's for me", I find myself saying.
There is no
one else left but me.
"Bubba
died."
That's
another painful sentence I find myself uttering at least
once a day lately as kind-hearted friends and co-workers
ask about "my boy"...the one who had me so worried these
last months.
"Bubba
died."
It hurts me
to say it for more than one reason.
I make
people feel so bad when I say it.
Most know
how much I cared about the Bubster.
They know
how much I have cried the last few months.
They have
been silent witnesses watching as one of the happiest
people around went to being the saddest.
So now, I
will return the message...cancel the groomer that did
such a beautiful job on Bubba just last month.
They were
so delicate with him..so gentle with my gentleman.
"Bubba
died", I will have to say once again.
And so did
a part of me.
One
Last "I Love You"
May
19, 2006
In my
business, I unfortunately see a lot of death and
destruction.
And as a
television reporter I often find myself talking to those
who have just lost a loved one.
More than
once I have been with families as they received the bad
news.
It is,
needless to say, heartbreaking.
Over the
years, I have kept in contact with many families because
while the story may die, their grief and our bond does
not.
That was
the case just a few weeks ago as an entire family arrived
at the scene of a murder that I was already at.
They did
not know that the man they called son; brother; boyfriend
was already dead.
I did.
The sound
of their heartbreak will most likely live with me
forever.
It was
there that I heard something that I want to share with
you.
And again,
just two days ago...at the scene of a horrific crash that
cost a nineteen year old his life, someone told me the
same thing.
"I
didn't get to say goodbye.
I didn't get to tell them how much I loved them."
Death comes
way too suddenly; way too soon for most...leaving in it's
wake so much unfinished business.
I cannot
compare my grief; my loss with theirs but at a time when
all I feel is loss, their words make me
appreciate the chance that I had to say goodbye to
someone I loved so much.
One last "I
love you".
Had Bubba
died in the hospital or somewhere without me next to him,
I would have been even more devastated than I am now.
Actually,
fearing that I would lose him at any minute, I took every
opportunity I had to tell the Bubster how much I loved
him.
I remember
thanking him over and over for being the best friend a
girl could have; the best son; the best companion; the
best everything.
And while I
would give anything to talk to him again, I know I left
nothing unsaid.
I just hope
he understood.
Since Bubba
died, I notice that most of my conversations with those
close to me now end with an "I love you".
It either
comes from me or from my friends. We are all so much more
sensitive now.
Or maybe
they just know that I need to hear it.
So, at the
risk of preaching to the choir here, may I humbly suggest
you all do the same?
Hug both
your furry friends and your human loved ones a little
tighter tonight.
Tell those
you love that you love them.
The other
day, while speaking to a friend's husband about matters
of love and loss, he said to me "I wish it was that
simple".
It is that
simple, my friend.
Don't leave
an "I love you" for later....because later may never
come.
A
Smile
May
22, 2006
Yesterday,
for the first time in a very long time, I smiled.
I even
laughed.
It was an
amazing feeling.
One
Month
May
28, 2006
Lost
in Time
May
30, 2006
One month
and two days.
Where did
it go?
For that
matter, where has almost half of 2006 gone?
With the
exception of a minute here and a moment there, I can't
even tell you....it has now become one big blur.
Maybe it's
because this year has been filled with so many moments
that I want to forget.
Maybe
that's it.
There are
some new things to report though.
One, at the
suggestion of a friend, I had a very interesting
interview with a "pet communicator" from Pennsylvania.
More
details on what Bubba "said" later this week.
And I just
realized I haven't told you about the "white flour/flower
and biscuit" message.
Or the
chewed up tennis ball that appeared.
Meanwhile,
the Bubster has yet to phone home directly.
Two
Months
June
28, 2006
60
Days - still gone - still missed - no signs
Still
Here, Still Sad
July
20, 2006
Well, you
would think that after disappearing from cyber-space for
almost two months, things would have gotten
better.
They
haven't.
But before
the update, an apology for the disappearing
act.
I tend to
"hibernate" or go on "mute" when I am sad and that's why
I haven't been here lately.
During the
last few months, I was focused on trying to remedy
personal problems. Today, I have finally come to terms
with the fact that there is no remedy and now I must
really move on.
It's scary
and overwhelming and now I don't even have my old best
buddy next to me to remind me that I am loved.
And love is
what it is all about, isn't it?
But
sometimes all the love in the world just isn't enough.
Just like I
couldn't save the Bubster, I couldn't save this
either.
On both
fronts, I tried so very hard but I just
couldn't.
And here I
am in tears again...this most recent realization taking
me back to April 28th when Bubba died.
I miss him
so...his bed is still in my bedroom; his medicines are
still on the kitchen counter and his feeding stand is
where it was when he last ate.
It's all
still there, including the pain.
Three
Months
July
29, 2006
I wasn't
going to post a picture of this month's visit -- I mean,
nothing really changes much at a cemetery, be it the
human kind or at the one for furry and feathered
friends.
And after
awhile, it seems every picture starts to look the
same...a new batch of flowers to mark an old batch of
memories.
But I took
my camera -- just in case.
Flowers
left last month had long ago wilted and today things just
seemed in disarray.
Sort of
like life sometimes.
Sort of
like the stuffed bear on Bubba's grave.
Raggedy at
the edges, slightly scruffy and maybe not quite the way
we want it to be, but there nonetheless.
Three
months have passed and not much has changed.
The Bubster
is still very much missed.
Good
friends, like him, are hard to come by -- they are few
and far-between and usually can be counted on one
hand.
And while I
am blessed to have true friends in my life, I still wish
that more people could be like Bubba.
It's that
whole loyalty and trust thing...but no litany on loyalty
from me today.
Today, I am
a little like the bear in the picture...slightly worse
for wear but still huggable.
Moving thru
things slowly but surely.
One step at
a time.
No
Words
August
1, 2006
Coincidence?
August
2, 2006
Sometimes,
a mere fraction of a second can be enough to alter the
course of our day; sometimes, the course of our
life.
For
example, if I had driven just a little slower or maybe a
little faster and if Bubba had moved those four paws at a
different pace, we never would have crossed paths and
paws at that intersection in 1992.
Last night,
a mere fraction of a second coupled with a last minute
decision to go in one door and not the other, brought me
face to face with something very important.
I say
"something", because it is so much more than just
"someone".
"Something"
that awhile back, if only for a brief moment, I thought
was the sign I had been looking for.
"Something"
that again arrives when I am at a crossroads.
"It's a
coincidence", says my best friend, "bound to happen
considering where you were last night".
"It's a
sign, an obvious sign", says another really close friend.
"There are no coincidences", she says, "you'll
see."
Two very
different ways to interpret the same event.
So, being
the profound thinker that I am, I began to wonder about
chance encounters, coincidences, signs and other assorted
happenings.
Are they
real or are they random? Or both?
So today's
post is a question to all of you reading...do you believe
in coincidences; signs?
Or does
everything have a reason and rhyme to it?
Tiger
Surgery
August
11, 2006
Click
here to watch Gigi's story on the surgery of a Bengal
Tiger
There is a
lot that I want to write about tonight but it is very
late and I am very drained.
So for now,
I leave you with a link to a news story that I did
tonight on a Bengal Tiger who had surgery.
What does
Mia the tiger have to do with Bubba?
So much,
that it made me cry.
More
tomorrow.....
The
Psychic Speaks
August
17, 2006
"I looked
hot in red"
Bubba
speaking thru a pet psychic
Back in
May, while I was still obsessing over the fact that the
Bubster hadn't sent me a "sign", a good friend
recommended that I get a "reading" with an animal
communicator in Pennsylvania.
Linda said
that she often consulted with Marlene Sandler and had
found that she had great insight.
So I made
an appointment with Marlene and on May 23rd spent 30
minutes listening to what she said Bubba had to
say.
While no
great secret that Bubba and I might have shared came
thru, I was impressed.
Marlene
spoke of some very specific things; things that wouldn't
necessarily apply to any and all dog and/or dog owner but
certainly to Bubba and I.
She did not
have a picture of Bubba, and as far as I know, she did
not know about the existence of this blog.
The
following is what Marlene told me, in the order that she
said it...her words are in blue, followed by my comments
in red.
"Bubba
liked to recline on something that was beige or
brown."
Bubba's
nickname was "the napster" and his favorite napping
spot
was on the sofa in the family room which is
beige.
"He's
telling me that there's something red that he looked very
cool in.
He says 'I looked hot in red'".
I am not
big on dressing dogs but Bubba did have a red raincoat
and a red sweater
that he wore during our last Christmas together. See
picture above.
"He was
a real gentle soul. He said he was appropriate with his
barking.
He had two previous owners before you."
In
describing Bubba, I often use the words "gentle soul" for
that is what he was.
Bubba did have two owners before me, Candace and the man
she had given him to.
"He says
he found you. He was very scared and tired when he met
you.
At one point he was rural but you found him in a suburban
area."
Yes, Bubba
was very tired when we met and probably scared too.
While I found Bubba in a very busy intersection of
Burbank, California,
not far from the airport, many refer to the area as a
'suburb of Los Angeles'.
As far as I know, Bubba spent the first year of his life
living in Los Angeles but his
first owner did mention that she had taken him on a trip
to the country in Oregon.
"When
you were twelve you had a white animal.
That same animal's spirit was in Bubba.
He came back to help you with issues dealing with the
abandonment by your father."
When I was
12 I had a white Toy Poodle named Bambi.
My parents divorced when I was four and I never really
knew my father.
"Bubba
taught you how to watch stillness; how to honor
wisdom.
You gained great wisdom from learning how to
watch."
"You
helped him cross over.
You did a compassionate thing. He blesses your
name."
Yes, I did
"help" Bubba cross over. See April 28th.
"I
believe he had lumps growing inside of him.
On the lower part of his left lung. They hadn't been
discovered yet.
He was also struggling with his kidneys.
He was beginning to have arrhythmia."
"He says
that when he was 11, he didn't look a day over 5.
But after he turned 13, he started to lose his
hearing.
You might have thought that he had selective
hearing."
No, Bubba
dear, you truly didn't look your age.
And yes, I always said that Bubba had "selective
hearing".
"He was
always very polite."
That's why
I called him the "perfect gentleman".
"He
loved you. If he could have been 'velcroed'
to your left hip, he would have been very
happy."
"He
wasn't fond of boys around the age of 12.
These boys, they threw something at him.
They might have hurt his right eye. He had a problem with
depth in it"
One day
about three years ago, I noticed that someone had thrown
a dozen or more lemons
over my front gate and into the area in which Bubba and
Pinche spent most of their day.
When I
walked outside to check my lemon tree,
which was directly in front of the gate, it was bare.
Someone had picked all the lemons off and had thrown them
at the dogs.
As I stood
there trying to figure out who would have done something
like that,
a neighbor came over to tell me that she had seen the two
little boys
who lived down the street throwing lemons at the
dogs.
She had yelled at them to stop and was very upset about
it.
Moments
later, I caught the boys walking by and loudly gave them
more than a piece of my mind.
They admitted picking and throwing the lemons at the dogs
because, they said,
the dogs had barked at them when they walked
by.
"About
two weeks before he died, Bubba started talking
to you about giving him permission to go."
Bubba and I
started "talking" about his leaving right after his bloat
surgery,
exactly twelve days before he died.
"Bubba's
body was unraveling. He said the vet was great.
He's finally resting after four very rough months.
He said that's when it started, about four months
ago."
Bubba was
diagnosed with Mega-E five months before he
died.
"He
fought as hard as he could. He was no quitter.
But he's pleased that I honored him. He was also having
difficulty with his hind legs.
He didn't want to lose his dignity. He was also having
problems with his right eye.
Bubba did
have problems with his hind legs and a few weeks before
he died,
his right eye began to sink into the socket.
"Bubba
comes to you in the middle of the night. He comes to your
right side.
He wants you to play with his ears the way you used to
with your left hand."
Bubba
always approached my bed on my right side.
As for playing with his ears, see April 29th, 10 pm
entry
and the picture of his ear in my left hand.
"I knew
how to play ball!"
"He felt
that he was the superior ball player but he always let
Pinche win.
Plus, he says, you didn't know how to throw the ball and
he wasn't really trying to catch it."
See April
29th, 10 pm entry -- comments above the picture of the
ball.
"Bubba
has definitely connected with Pinche. Pinche was more
intense.
He was surprised that Pinche passed
first."
"He says
he was good. And that a girl was very nice to
him."
"I can
see the vertical blinds, they would get stuck when he put
his nose in them.
Four days after he died, the blinds were moved -- they
were bent. It was a sign.
The blinds are the ones to the right of the center of
your space."
Bubba would
always be peeking out the front blinds when I came
home and they would always be bent out of shape.
The blinds are to my immediate right when I sit on the
couch
in the family room which is the room I spend my free time
in.
I did not notice if the blinds had been moved immediately
after Bubba died.
As my time
with Marlene wound to a close, she added that Bubba would
send me more signs but that they would be subtle. Maybe a
crease on the bed or in the blinds. Something as gentle
as he was.
Thru-out
the reading, I both laughed and cried. Sometimes both
simultaneously.
The
comments about Bubba thinking he was a good ball player;
looking "hot" in red and "not a day over 5" made me laugh
out loud.
Was it
worth spending thirty minutes and about $65.00?
Absolutely.
PS: After
writing this, I decided to make another appointment with
Marlene. It's next week and I will let you know if the
Bubster had anything to say or not. ;-)
Ruff,
real ruff
August
25, 2006
I am so
glad this week is over!
Now, if
only 2006 would end too.
For more
reasons than I can list here, this has been a sad
week.
One of the
stories that I had to do involved hundreds of dogs and
cats being removed from a rescue center by animal control
officers.
Talk about
heartbreaking!
And talk
about making a case for spaying and neuturing.
The link to
the story is on my personal website, if anyone would like
to see it.
I can tell
you that it made me very, very sad to see all those furry
faces.
But since
I'm not ready to adopt (yet) all I could do was come home
and make a donation to one of my favorite animal
organizations.
Though in
the big scheme of things, it feels like so
little.
Earlier in
the week, a TV special on the orphaned children of Africa
also had me in tears.
And again,
rushing to my computer to make a donation to a group that
helps them.
Back to the
doggy front, I did speak to Marlene again (see above
entry).
Unfortunatley,
there is not too much to report regarding the
Bubster.
Most of our
time was spent talking about personal issues on which she
did tell me many interesting things -- most of which I
didn't want to hear, yet know in my heart are
true.
:-(
The little
there was about Bubba, I will tell you about
later.
One nice
thing did happen this week and it came in the form of a
gift from a good friend: a medallion with the image of
Saint Roch or San Roque on it.
I had never
heard of this Saint but the story is very interesting as
many consider him to be a patron of dogs.
I will try
and post a link with the story.
You
don't have a dog
August
28, 2006
"I'm
tired and I want to get home to my dog."
Yes, I said
it.
Last
night.
I
was tired and I did want to get home, that
much was true.
The part
about my dog...well, I guess some would say it was
"wishful thinking" while others might call it a "Freudian
slip".
The fact is
that old habits die hard and true love, well, that never
dies.
It's been
four months since the Bubster died.
Four whole
months and I still miss his furry face in the window or
that funny bark/yelp of excitement coming from the
backyard as I got out of my car.
I miss
seeing him outside my bathroom door.
I miss him
following me from room to room.
I miss him
jumping up to the ceiling at the mere mention of the word
"walk".
I miss the
sound of his snoring.
I miss our
slow walks around the cul-de-sac.
His
friendship, companionship, understanding, love -- I miss
it all.
I miss
him.
Nightmares
August
30, 2006
It's not
the first nightmare I have had this year.
I have had
so many that I've lost count.
But it is
the first with Bubba in it and after awaking in a cold
sweat, it has left me shaken.
In my
dream, Bubba lies in the wooden box he was buried
in.
He is
dying, yet still alive.
I cannot
let him go.
I keep
taking him out of the box, carrying him around with me as
I sob hysterically that I can't let him die.
He's awake,
alert but unable to walk.
The dream
goes on and on...the scene repeating itself over and
over.
It is
draining.
I am
drained.
Bubba?
September
19, 2006
No one was
moving - no one in this case being Birdie-Boy and
me.
It was
Saturday night.
Rick and
Ilsa were about to say goodbye for the last time and my
eyes were glued to the love story that is
Casablanca.
A large
teardrop welled in my eye, held there only by the fear
that its release would unleash an avalanche
more.
And that's
when it happened.
Immediately
to my right, the blinds started moving.
Hitting
pause on the recorder, I blinked several times, releasing
the teardrop in the process.
The blinds
were moving - swaying back and forth, left to right.
Really.
Less than
two feet away from them, I looked closer…was there a
fly caught in the blinds? A cricket, maybe?
Nothing.
I looked at
a hanging lamp to see if it was moving, after all I live
in earthquake country. It was still.
I looked at
Birdie-Boy - somehow hoping the poor Cockatiel would
confirm what I was seeing.
He just
looked at me.
The air
conditioning was off.
The window
is new - double paned and was closed.
The blinds
continued to gently sway back and forth as I just stared,
that single teardrop still rolling down my
face.
Bubba?
Marlene had
spoken of the blinds (see August 17th entry) - the ones
to the "right of my space".
Slowly,
they came to a stop.
With Rick
and Ilsa's faces frozen on the screen, I just sat there
in silence.
Waiting.
Waiting for
something else to happen.
Nothing
did.
Five
Months
September
28, 2006
Two
neighbors have painted their houses.
One planted
a new lawn.
Another has
created a beautiful rock garden with exotic looking
plants.
In the five
months since Bubba died a lot of things have changed on
my cul-de-sac...proof positive that life goes
on.
Today I
walked the cul-de-sac for the first time in over five
months....Bubba's red leash in my hand with a Chocolate
Lab named Reese on the other end.
Yes, I
found a dog.
Or a dog
found me.
Before you
get too excited, no, I am not keeping him because he has
an owner.
His name is
Reese and I found him last night on a Helicopter Base
near where the Day Fire is burning.
If you
haven't heard about the Day Fire on the news, it's the
largest fire burning in the United States right now. It
started almost a month ago on Labor Day and has burned
over 160,000 acres with no end in sight.
I was in
the area covering it for the news when I first spotted
the Chocolate Lab wandering the airstrip.
He's a very
friendly boy who was lost, hungry, thirsty and
tired.
Reese had
no name tag, and my photographer Dave (another dog lover)
and I knew we had to help him so it was into the news van
for him, where he promptly fell asleep.
And there
he slept for four hours...waking only to make a brief
cameo appearance with me on the 11:00 news in hopes his
owner would see him.
Then Reese
came home with me, ate a few cans of Bubba's food (which
of course I still have in the pantry) and slept in
Bubba's bed (which of course I still have in my room).
After a
little detective work this morning, I was able to find
Reese's owner who is thrilled to know he's ok.
And I am
thrilled to know that he will be going home soon...back
to those who love him.
Five months
ago today I lost my boy, my best friend.
Today, I
will return someone else's best friend.
You can
watch the story of Reese's reunion by clicking on the
link below:
Reese's
Reunion
Six
Months
October
28, 2006
For the
first time, today I didn't cry when I visited the pet
cemetary.
Not a
single tear welled up. Not one.
Maybe it's
because I am cried out.
Maybe I am
getting stronger.
Or maybe I
am too drained to cry.
I don't
know what it is.
I do know
it's not because I have forgotten or love any
less.
On the way
to leave flowers, I try and revisit what was happening
six months ago today.
I
can't.
Oh, I
remember each and every painful detail but I just can't
go there.
I want to
because I want to think about the last time I saw Bubba
alive.
But I
can't.
Not
yet.
Always
Believe
December
24, 2006
One
year ago today
What is
worse, knowing you are losing something,
someone?
Or having
lost them?
One year
ago tonight, I knew that I would be spending my last
Christmas with both the Bubster and the
Boyfriend.
Of course,
I hoped I could stop both of my best friends from leaving
but in my heart of hearts, I knew I couldn't.
I knew that
no matter how hard I tried or how hard I loved them,
there was nothing I could do.
But I tried
anyway. I tried so hard.
I
believed.
I believed
until the very end.
But fate
ran it's course and both left.
This year I
lost a lot and while my heart is still broken, I now
realize that what I didn't lose was my faith...my faith
that things will get better, that things have to get
better.
My faith
has been shaken and stirred, tested and tried, but it's
still here.
Always
believe.
It's my new
motto.
I miss
Bubba.
I really,
really miss him.
But
tonight, I wish and hope that all of you are surrounded
by the ones you love and that love you.
Furry
friends, human friends, any kind of friends -- may your
home and heart be filled with love this
holiday.
Merry
Christmas.
It's
Over!
December
31, 2006
In exactly
twelve hours, 2007 will be here and 2006
won't.
Twelve
hours to go and I am counting every minute, for I have
been waiting for this year to end almost since it
started.
I cannot
tell you how excited and hopeful I feel!
For as long
as I can remember, I have always felt that each new year
brings with it a clean slate; an opportunity to start all
over...and I can't wait!
2006 will
go down as one of the worst years of my life and it can't
end soon enough.
Oh sure,
there had been some pretty bad years before, but 2006
takes the cake for tears cried and dreams
lost.
While on
many occasions, I saw the best in people - most of them
total strangers rushing to my aid when I so needed help -
unfortunately, I also witnessed some of the worst
qualities in mankind.
I lost
Bubba - my best friend and loyal companion for over
fourteen years.
The best
boy you could ever meet, the Bubster was a joy to live
with and I thank God I got to share my life with
him.
Bubba
defined the words loyal and noble. He was a kind soul
whose quiet strength still inspires me.
Bubba was
the perfect gentleman.
And not a
day went by when I didn't feel that he was somehow
thanking me for bringing him home.
I will
never forget Bubba and the lessons that one old dog
taught me.
That final
goodbye I whispered in his furry ear on April 28th was
one of many that 2006 would hear me say.
Just a few
days later on May 4th, the day before my birthday, my
friend Valentín Trujillo died in his sleep in
Mexico City.
Valentín
Trujillo
Having
starred in hundreds of movies, Valentín was a
legend in Mexican cinema. A teenage sensation and
heartthrob, he continued to make movies until the day he
died at the age of 55.
We became
friends in 1996 when he accepted my invitation to appear
on a talk show that I hosted and produced, "El y Ella".
It would be his first television interview in 14 years. I
was both honored and thrilled.
The
following year, I was again honored when he asked me to
star in a movie with him. It was a wonderful experience
and one that I will never forget.
But most
importantly, Valentín was my friend. A kind soul,
he will be remembered and missed by many.
In 2006, I
also said goodbye to a co-worker, Sam Chu Lin, a veteran
reporter at FOX 11 News and a pioneer in
journalism.
Sam
Chu Lin
Another
kind and gentle soul who left us much too
soon.
Just a few
weeks ago, on December 6th, death knocked again…this
time on the door of Juancarlos Ortiz, another good friend
and former co-worker.
Juancarlos
Ortiz
For over a
decade I knew Juancarlos as an extremely smart, witty and
charming man who always made me laugh.
He was a
published author, theologian and radio host who could
talk intelligently and coherently about
anything.
Diagnosed
with Leukemia at 45, his friends and co-workers rallied
around him in Intensive Care… we prayed and
whispered words of love and hope in his ear but he died
just weeks later.
And
yesterday, a text message from a friend informed me that
yet another death had occurred in 2006.
This time
it was someone I didn't know but felt like I did - Los
Angeles TV critic Ron Fineman had lost his battle with
colon cancer at age 54.
Ron
Fineman
Fineman's
critiques were sharp and often acerbic and while I didn't
agree with everything he wrote, I admit that I learned a
lot from him. His website was a must-read for those of us
who work in television news.
There were
other losses too…losses of the heart and the spirit.
The kind of disappointments and heartbreaks so painful
they leave a scar on your soul.
Soon
though, 2006 will be history…the pain, sorrow and
goodbyes a distant memory.
2007 brings
me hope and gratitude.
My New
Year's resolutions include loving and laughing more,
crying less; forgetting the bad, remembering the good;
and celebrating each and every day with a smile on my
face and thanks in my heart.
So cheers,
my friends! ¡Salud!
Thank you
for sticking with me thru thick and thin, thru bad and
even worse.
Now, let
the good times roll!
Happy New
Year!
My
Journey
January
21, 2007
"We
noticed that you are writing less and less now.
Of course, we understand but wanted you to know that we
still check your blog daily for updates. Please know that
we care very much what happens to you and would like to
continue reading about you. Hopefully you will keep
updating us."
Excerpt
from an email received from Lois Graham, North
Carolina
Thank
you.
This blog was
never supposed to be about me, but looking back, I now see
that just as Bubba and I were inseparable, our stories and
journeys are too.
I know that my
grief, loneliness, exhaustion and so many other adjectives
that could describe the roller coaster of emotions I have
felt is no stranger to all of you.
If you are
reading this it is most likely because your best friend is
or was sick and you have felt all of the above and more.
That is why I wrote of it.
Please know
that everyday, in my thoughts at least, I update the
blog.
But since most
of it is not about Bubba, only about me, I don't publish
it.
I have found
writing to be my outlet...a necessary part of my life. So
much so that I am thinking about starting a third blog (the
second one is my work blog) about my journey.
Right now,
it's a just thought and we'll see.
Meanwhile, I
will share that today marks an important anniversary for
me.
One year ago
today, on a chilly Saturday night that found me home alone
taking care of the Bubster, my eyes were opened and life as
I knew it would change drastically.
I wish I had
the valor to spell it all out...to tell you exactly what I
found out that night that changed my life forever, but I
don't.
More than just
being personal and oh-so-painful, it is deeply, deeply
humiliating.
It would turn
out to be only the tip of the iceberg and the first of many
humiliations I would see in 2006.
It suffices to
say that night and thruout the rest of the year, I would
find that someone very close to me wasn't who they pretended
to be...that heroes are far and few between and that I had
placed on a pedestal of integrity, honesty and honor,
someone who did not deserve to be there.
That lesson
took me a very long time to learn and cost me very dearly
because for almost an entire year, I continued to believe,
to love, to pray, to fight and forgive; thinking that
everyone deserves a second chance.
A second
chance, yes. Eight second chances, no.
What can I
say? I am a slow and stubborn learner.
A year later,
the lessons learned are many.
The first and
most important, no one can hurt and humiliate you if you
don't let them.
I should have
walked away that Saturday night and never looked
back.
But I didn't
and allowed myself to be hurt and lied to over and over
again.
I am to blame
for all that humiliation and pain because I allowed
it.
Never, ever
again.
The second
lesson is that love cannot change or save it all.
People only
change when they want to...when they truly realize they are
wrong.
One year later
and I still lament that the person who hurt me so never made
an honest effort to be honest.
It was so
simple, so easy.
"Be honest", I
begged, "be transparent. Lead your life without lies. It is
not hard."
But one year
later, they are still living a lie.
A lie that
includes telling anyone who will listen what high morals and
standards they have; how they are made up of "pride,
integrity and guts".
They continue
to live in a fantasy world that includes thinking they are
the object of desire of anyone who looks at them twice
and/or asks them for career advice; people who have
absolutely no interest in them beyond the professional
kind.
It is funny,
and as someone recently said to me "they have gotten exactly
what they deserve", yet at the same time it is pathetically
sad.
Truth be told,
it still brings tears to my eyes to see someone who I
admired, trusted and cared for so much, someone who had such
great potential in life, continue the same destructive and
deceptive behavior.
Mired in
unhappiness and loneliness, yet they continue to make the
same mistakes over and over again.
One would
think that after decades of the same behavior, a person
would take a long, hard look in the mirror and say "It is me
that must change" but no, some people just cannot do
that.
The third
lesson learned is that when something or someone appears too
good to be true, they generally are.
It's pretty
basic and something that over the last few years many people
reminded and warned me about.
I didn't
listen.
One year later
and so much remains the same...so much, yet so
little.
One year ago I
sat in front of this computer absolutely stunned as tears
rolled down my face.
The same scene
would repeat itself over and over.
Today, I sit
here stronger...twenty pounds and one huge heartache
lighter, I am stronger.
I am in a
better place and very, very proud of myself.
Proud not that
I wasted three years of my life on someone who did not
deserve them, plus an additional one waiting for them to
come to their senses -- but proud of my capacity to love and
to forgive; my commitment, loyalty and the strength of my
word.
On many days
and nights, consumed by pain, I wrote here that I was losing
two of my best friends.
I recently
repeated that line and someone corrected me -- saying that I
had not lost two best friends, but one.
Bracing myself
for a battle about Bubba indeed being my best friend, this
person stopped me mid-sentence.
"Bubba was
your best friend", they said. "But the person who
repeatedly betrayed you; lied to you; hurt you? That person,
was not your best friend. They weren't even your friend.
Friends don't do that to friends."
Boy, did that
hit home! And hard!
Betrayal is a
bitter pill to swallow. It hurts beyond belief and can leave
you devastated and empty, not to mention heartbroken and
sick.
"Ashen",
said a co-worker to me just last week. "That was the
color of your skin...ashen. You really seemed to be in a lot
of pain last year."
I
was.
But I realize
now that everything I thought I saw in the person I placed
on that pedestal was but a reflection of everything I stand
for and everything I am seeking in another soul.
Love,
integrity, loyalty, commitment, respect and
honesty.
It is what I
give. It is what I expect.
I found that
in the brown eyes of one old soul named Bubba...but his eyes
have closed and so now I continue on in my journey to find
that again.
Hopefully this
time, I will find it in a human's eyes.
Hopefully this
time, it will be real and not merely a
reflection.
My
Journey: II
January
25, 2007
Today I was
going to delete the last entry.
But since the
response to it was, let's say, overwhelming, I decided to
update it instead.
From your
emails, I know that many of you have lived thru the grief
that betrayal brings.
Like any form
of grieving, there are many stages one goes thru, which can
include denial,
guilt, sadness and anger.
All stages
which I have been thru twice over and more.
They are the
same stages I have gone thru over Bubba's death.
Four days ago
I wrote that I was stronger and in a better place, which is
true.
But just
writing the post, reliving the hurt, brought back a lot of
memories.
All of them, unfortunately, painful.
And last
night, because of something so stupid that I once again
found,
I realized that I am not over "it" yet.
Just as the
person who hurt me is stuck in the same cycle, I am stuck in
allowing it to hurt me.
I know the
truth but occasionally I still feel compelled to prove it.
And "he who seeks, finds".
Last night, I
found.
I think deep
inside I wanted to prove myself wrong. No one likes to be
lied to and hurt
and I think we all wish that those who hurt us could feel
the depth of our pain and learn from it.
But some
people don't learn...they go on their merry way as if
nothing ever happened.
There is no
remorse on their part. There is no guilt or period of
grieving over a lost love,
because they feel no grief, because they felt no
love.
Like killer
storms that sweep thru, they plow thru people's hearts and
don't look back.
If they did,
they would see the long trail of devastation and destruction
their actions left.
They would see
lives changed forever because of their betrayal and
lies.
So, I admit
it, I spoke too soon.
I may be
twenty pounds lighter -- which is always a good thing -- but
that heartache?
Well, it's still here. The hurt as raw and as painful as
ever.
One year and
four days later, the tears are still flowing at a fast and
furious pace
and the need to heal continues.
It
continues.
That
Last Turn
January
29, 2007
Barbaro
Photo: Garry
Jones
For eight
months I followed his story.
I prayed for
him; held my breath when he was down and silently celebrated
when he got better.
I laughed when
I read that he was back to "flirting with the mares" and I
held back tears when he faced yet another
operation.
But he was the
little horse that could...he was a fighter and I admire
fighters.
Truth be told,
he reminded me a lot of Bubba.
And that is
why today I cried when I read that he had taken that last
turn for the worse and was now gone.
Barbaro, the
handsome horse with such an amazing will to live lost his
fight today.
After so many
close calls, so many miracles of recovery, his owners had
him euthanized when it was evident that he could not win
this race.
I feel for
Barbaro but I really feel for the people who had to make the
painful decision to let him go.
They have my
admiration and gratitude for trying so hard to save their
"boy" -- pouring thousands of dollars and no doubt much love
into caring for him, even though he would never race
again.
I can relate,
after having spent five months fighting the horrible disease
called Megaesophagus that struck Bubba. The fight was hard,
both on the heart and on the pocketbook but there are no
regrets.
Like Barbaro's
surgeon Dr. Dean Richardson said about the bay colt, Bubba
too had many, many good days.
While both
Barbaro's and Bubba's stories did not have that happy ending
we all prayed for, I hope that their fight to live and the
many miracles that did happen along the way, will inspire
people.
And while
Bubba never won a prize in his life, he was my champion. A
true winner in every sense of the word.
Nine months
and one day ago, I too had to let my champ go after he took
that last turn.
It was one of
the hardest decisions I have ever made.
I only hope
and pray that he knew I did it for him.
So, goodbye
Barbaro.
Not only were
you a champion colt but one hero of a horse!
Long after we
have forgotten the names of the races you won or how many
millions you made, we will remember your fighting spirit, we
will remember you.
As we will
Bubba and Pinche. And all our furry friends who fought the
fight to the very end.
They did it
for us.
We did it for
them.
As Barbaro's
owner Gretchen Jackson said, "grief is the price we all pay
for love" -- and because we loved you, we are now paying
that price.
Ten
Months
February
28, 2007
Photo:
FOX News
They say time
flies when you are having fun.
I can tell you
that it flies even when you're not.
They also say
that time heals all wounds, all hurts.
That I can
tell you firsthand, it does.
Ten months
have come and gone since the day that I still cannot bear to
remember...not even for a moment to write about
it.
No, I still
cannot go there nor do I want to.
Maybe on the
one year anniversary. Maybe that day I will let my mind
wander back and have a good,
well-deserved-if-I-do-say-so-myself cry.
But today I
want to tell you that things are better. Time truly does
heal all.
I am keeping
to my New Year's resolution of laughing more, crying less
and it feels so good, so needed.
Twice in the
last few weeks I have awoken from a sound sleep in the
middle of the night laughing out loud.
Now that's a
sign. ;-)
Bubba is not
here but his memory lives on.
Bubba is not
here but I still am.
Ten months
later, I am finally starting to smile again and that my
friends, is a good thing.
Invitation
April
17, 2007
Dear
Friends,
You are
cordially invited to join me in celebrating the:
"First
Annual Bubba Love-Fest"
A gathering to
commemorate 105 years of a life well-lived and
well-loved
on the anniversary of Bubba's leaving us to join
Pinche.
Bubba's
Place
Saturday, April 28th
On the
agenda:
A visit to Pet
Haven
Lunch, of
course.
It was after all one of Bubba's favorite events
A recital by
Birdie-Boy of his all-time favorite tune:
"Bubba, go pee-pee"
Topics
to be discussed:
Bubba, Bubba
and more Bubba
Including, but
not limited to:
What a
wonderful boy Bubba was
How handsome Bubba was
How smart Bubba was
What a good soul Bubba had
How skinny Bubba's mother has gotten
How much we all miss Bubba
Time allowing
we can briefly discuss your pets although any
non-Bubba related items should be limited to 60 seconds or
less.
Attendance is
mandatory
Kleenex will
be provided
xoxo
Bubba's Mom
The above
invitation was sent out to four of my friends who were with
Bubba and I that last day.
It was one of
the saddest days of my life but one year later I want to
honor the Bubster with a celebration and a smile.
After all, he
did bring me so much happiness!
Hopefully all
of you who have faithfully followed our journey will join us
that day, albeit in spirit and thought, as we remember Bubba
Dog and all our furry friends who left before us.
Say a prayer
-- simply smile -- give those you love an extra hug -- light
a candle -- just remember, any way you choose to do so.
For we must
never forget those that we loved and those who loved
us.
This
is the Week
April
22, 2007
Like most
women, I have the memory of an elephant.
And while
sometimes I can't remember the name of the person I met five
minutes ago,
just ask me what was happening a year ago this
week!
This of course
is the week that Bubba died.
A year ago
today I felt full of hope and oh so happy.
Bubba was back
home; he was eating, walking and yes, talking! At least to
Sarah and me he was. ;-)
But my
happiness and hopefulness would not last long. Bubba's life
was about to end
and one of the saddest days of my life loomed
ahead.
As I look at
the dates on the calender, I cannot help but remember every
single detail
of what was my life one year ago.
So much has
changed, yet so much remains the same.
I am,
thankfully, in a much better place. I have grown immensely
and changed
so much since that week.
The lessons I
learned last year were of the bitter, hard-to-swallow
kind...the life
changing ones that stay with you forever. The kind that
change your outlook on life.
The kind you never ever forget.
But slowly I
have moved on, making the most of what I learned as I
promised myself
to never feel that way again, over anyone or
anything.
That said, a
few weeks ago I decided that soon it will be time to "adopt"
again.
Yes, I will
get another doggy.
I wanted to
wait for a full year to go by...it was my way of marking
Bubba's importance in my life.
It was my way
of mourning all the love lost.
There will
never be another Bubba, just like there will never be
another Pinche, Loli, Pepito,
Bambi or Joia.
But there is
room both in my heart and home for some love.
It is
time.
But please, no
puppies on my doorstep; no pictures of heartbreaking furry
friends
needing homes. Not yet. It will be a slow
process.
Slow because
just writing the above lines brought tears to my eyes and an
ache to my heart.
It may be time
to move on but it is still a difficult journey.
Ready
to Remember
April
27, 2007
One
Year Later
April
28, 2007
Until today, I
had never thrown a dog-themed anything.
My dogs did
not have birthday parties nor did they marry each other
wearing
cute little outfits.
They never
went anywhere with me in my purse and, with the exception of
a sweater
and raincoat, I did not dress my dogs.
But today, I
wanted to both remember the Bubster in a special way and
thank the friends
that were here with us when he died.
The ones that
held my hand while holding his paw...the ones who showered
him with love
that last day...the ones who dried my tears and listened to
my sobs.
A simple lunch
can never repay what Cyndey-Sue, Donna and Linda did for us
not only that day
but thru-out the grueling months he was sick but I wanted to
do something.
And that's why
today, on the one-year anniversary of the Bubster's
departure, I held
the "First Annual Bubba Love-Fest".
Party pins, a
swag-filled "Doggy-Bag", lunch and laughter -- it was a
complete event!
Doggy-Bag with gifts and the "Official Bubba Pin"
all guests had to wear
There were no
tears this year -- I just didn't allow myself to go there
although I've been
on the verge all day -- just friends getting together to
remember one old boy who loved life.
Oh, how the
Bubster loved life! Especially his walks and
naps.
So we spent
some time at Pet Haven where the Bubster is buried alongside
my five other dogs.
It is a peaceful park -- filled with loving tributes to
friends who have gone ahead.
L-R: Me, Cyndey-Sue, Donna and Linda
One of Bubba's
best friends, Dan, had been there earlier to leave flowers,
a card and a
box of "Frosty Paws" -- frozen doggy-treats which Bubba
loved. As a matter of fact
it was the last thing he ate, a cup of "Frosty Paws" one
year ago today.
(I write stuff
like that and the tears well up.)
Thank you
Dan...for all that you did for him before he got sick. Bubba
loved you very much.
Then it was
off to lunch at home and the grand opening of the doggy bag
which included
a Bubba-Dawg (that's really his name) for each of my friends
- wearing a special
bandana I had made to mark the passing of my boy, who to me
was an angel, fur and all.
Bubba Dawg's meeting before the party started
And that, my
friends, is how I spent my day; Bubba's Day.
A big part of
me wants to have a good long cry and who knows, after
hitting "upload" maybe I will.
There is no need to tell you how long this last year has
been for me -- I think I lived it in dog years
and it really was equal to seven!
Thanks to all
who wrote today...and thanks to those who didn't but still
remembered.
Even without
knowing each and everyone of you personally, you all were a
big part of
the Bubba love-fest.
Thank you for
your support and love thru-out the most trying of
times.
Oh, one more
thing...
"Bubba,
son, wherever it is in the heavens that you are tonight,
please know how much I love you and miss you boy.
You will never know just how much, my dear
Bubster."
I think I'll
go hug my Bubba-Dawg and have that cry now.
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