Cherish the present
My mind is tired. My body hurts. My heart is breaking. For those who understand the bond you can have with a pet, you may have had these same feelings when you were forced to say goodbye (or as I like to think, “see you later”) to a most loyal and lovable family member. Max was our best buddy for 9 ½ years. He has been a part of our lives since three months after we were married and bought our house. In many respects, he has been the heart of our home for all these years, bringing laughs, love, joy, and companionship. Being with someone – human or animal – 24/7 for nearly a decade creates a deep connection that leads to deep grief when they are gone.
Last month, we got bad news: a large mass was discovered in Max’s spleen. It could have ruptured at any time, causing him to bleed to death internally. If it was a common form of cancer in dogs that presented in such a way, there was no cure. Only surgery and subsequent biopsies would reveal if the issue was benign or malignant. If it was benign, the surgery would be curative, and he could have lots of time yet to live. Surgery seemed like the only option if we were going to give him a chance.
He was such a sweetheart through the whole process. He underwent the tests, still loving and living life, albeit with some discomfort and on again off again bouts of sickness. He made it through a successful surgery, in which a cantaloupe – yes cantaloupe! – sized tumor was removed along with his spleen. But the surgeon had bad news. Max’s liver was failing. It was highly abnormal. It almost seemed to be melting. He had days, maybe weeks, to live.
Only six short months ago, we lost our other little pup, a nearly 20-year-old chihuahua named Howie, who we adopted in 2016. Though still extremely difficult, his death was a little more expected considering his age and the aging process that was well underway in his tiny little frail body. Two months ago, my parents lost their dog, Maya, very unexpectedly. It appears she, too, had a cancerous tumor that ruptured, caused her to collapse, and then subsequently went into cardiac arrest.
It’s been a difficult few months for our family when it comes to our dearly loved furbabies!
Sometimes loss can be unexpected. Sometimes it can be expected. But the length of time to come to terms with a potential loss can vary. With Max, it was a whirlwind two weeks. What we thought was just some minor arthritis causing him to groan slightly when he laid down, suddenly turned into possible terminal cancer. After his surgery, he came home for a night. But he developed a fever the next morning and we were told to bring him back to the animal hospital. There, they confirmed the fever and that he had more abdominal fluid. They didn’t see an option of us taking him back home. We were presented with some other options, but the general consensus was that Max likely had terminal cancer that was causing the complications. He was only going to grow worse. That is when we made the painstaking decision to end his pain and any future pain he might experience. We hugged him and kissed him (and he us), fed him some of his favorite treats, and told him everything we wanted to tell him. We even prayed for him, releasing him into the hands of the One who ultimately owned him, gave him the breath of life, and Who loved him more than we could even imagine.
“In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.” (Job 12:10)
During those two weeks of waiting and uncertainty, it was far too easy for my mind to wander to the worst-possible outcome. But some wise people in my life reminded me that by worrying about the future, I was not enjoying the time I had with him in the present. He wasn’t gone yet. He was sitting right there. And when I determined to keep myself in the present, I was able to focus on making the most of each moment. I looked at him a little longer when he was resting peacefully. I hugged him and rubbed his belly more often. I cherished our walks together a little more. And I spoiled him a little more too, especially with treats - including his favorite: bites of chicken!
The thing is, I look back on the 9 ½ years we had with him, and I know in my heart that I gave him the best life possible. I’ve been going through photos and videos, and realize how much I was really cherishing those moments in the present. I’m sure I got too busy with life at times, and didn’t appreciate the gift he was every second of the day. But he knew we loved him. He knew he was safe. He knew he would always be cared for. And he knew we would never abandon him. What more could a dog ask for?
What more could any of us ask for?
We have a wonderful Caretaker who promised to never leave us or forsake us. Do we rest in that truth? Do we cherish our relationship with Him moment by moment, or do we allow our minds and hearts to grow fearful in the face of “what ifs” and uncertainties? Or, maybe we are so consumed with guilt and regret that our minds have gotten mired in the past.
But we don’t live in the past. We don’t live in the future. We live in the present.
I’ve been thinking about one of my books, On Borrowed Time, and the advice given by the people whose stories are told in its pages. These are individuals who were on the brink of certain death, but were graced by God with more time. Their perspectives are challenging to those of us who have not learned to fully appreciate the moments we have right now.
One of the individuals in the book, Jimmie, put it this way: “Don’t dwell on the worst two days of your life.” (By this he means “yesterday” and “tomorrow”).
“There’s nothing you can do about yesterday, and God’s got tomorrow planned out. Live for today.”
Maybe, in this moment, you need to ask God to help you to be in the present. Maybe you need to call someone you’ve been thinking about or haven’t talked to in a while. Maybe you need to put down your electronic device and take a good look at the loved ones who are around you, right now.
And if you are so blessed to have a beloved dog in your life, go give them that hug or belly rub.