plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose - deux

Thirteen Years in Three Photos

11 months -- with Fred

4 years-5 months -- with Mabel and Milo

12 years-9months -- with Mabel
(only one kitty fits comfortably now)

Goldens' Rule

True to her breed, Bailey naturally subscribes to the Golden Rule. She further believes that it is within her realm of expertise to elaborate and expand upon the rule, and that it is her obligation to share with the Blogoshpere what she has learned during her many years.  She therefore offers the following Golden Rules for living a long, happy and treat-filled life.

1. Love everyone without question or hesitation. Continue to love them even if (especially if) they do not accept your love or they fail to return it. Just keep licking, jumping on, and otherwise loving them.
2. Approach every new situation with joy, exuberance and abandon. Many, perhaps most situations will not warrant such exuberance, but the rewards gained by being open to joy will be worth it.
3. Be ridiculously excited by everything, no matter how simple or mundane it may seem. The excitement you bring will make it exciting. 
4. Get as many pets and hugs as you can, and seek them whenever possible. It is fine to coax a pet by nudging your head into a person’s hand or leaning against their legs. If the person should become distracted and stop petting you, it is only polite to help refocus them by gently placing a paw on their hand or lap while looking with wide, longing eyes.
5. Be loyal to those that are loyal to you (even if someone else has tastier treats).
6. Defend yourself vigorously when threatened, while never compromising rule #1.
7. Sniff others, as you would have them sniff you. Inhale them deeply knowing that the path to their soul is through their anal glands.
8. Farting is the ideal way to express joy. Fart when you are excited; fart when you are happy; fart in the middle of a really good dream; fart to greet a beautiful new day.
9. Seek out all things humans hold to be gross and disgusting. The grosser they find it, the better it is likely to be.
10. Make someone happy whenever you can. Knowing that your person is happiest when you are happy, be sure to show them the gross thing you are so thoroughly enjoying.  Flaunt it, spread it, smear it, roll in it and, by all means, don’t be greedy—push it into their hands or leave some in their bed. 

Finally, having been raised by me, Bailey wishes to remind you of the Lennon-McCartney axiom, to which she also subscribes:

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.

plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose

Thirteen years in three photos.

9 weeks

6 months

12 years - 9 months

Four Weeks

It has now been four weeks since her fortune was foretold.  Four weeks since the forecast of “most likely no more than four-to-six weeks.” Four weeks since being forewarned of her forthcoming doom.

It has been four weeks since learning her prognosis, but it has been four wonderful weeks.  Four joyous weeks.  Four buoyant weeks.   Four weeks filled with friends and playmates, packed with favorite activities and foods and treats and more treats and more treats.  Four weeks to recall nearly thirteen years of memories, to relive nearly thirteen years of experiences, and to rejoice in nearly thirteen years of life. 

Of course there have been a few scary moments. Times when I would look and wait… and wait… and wait. Listening for any sound to fill the silence. Watching for any motion to break the stillness. And for a fraction of a moment that seemed like many minutes, feeling the dread of the thought that it might not come… until her chest finally would swell and recede, and swell and recede again, as she breathed life and I breathed a sigh of relief. 

February 2013

It has been four weeks since being told to make the most of what could well be no more than four weeks--and we did. During those four weeks, I was able to accomplish nearly all that I had hoped. I was able to give Bailey most of the things that I knew brought her joy, and far more treats than likely should have been provided.  I was able to bring her together with many of her favorite canine and human friends, and at least talk to many others.  In those four weeks, and aided by some freakish weather, I was able to provide her the opportunities to enjoy her most favored activities—frolicking in snow, swimming in a creek, and rolling in mud. In those four weeks I was able to ease what little pain she felt, and provide comfort on the very few bad days she had. 

It has now been four weeks since the diagnosis, and we have entered the period of “most likely no more than four-to-six weeks.”  I could take comfort in the implied hope that is left by most likely, or I could wallow in self-pity as we await the inevitable.  But, most of the time, I feel neither hope nor forlorn.  What will come will come, and my hope or fear can have no sway on that.  I am thankful for each new day that is added to Bailey’s life, however many days may come, but not even that is really significant any longer.  More important to me now is that we had those four weeks.  More important is that we lived—fully lived—in those four weeks.  And most important is that we were fully conscious of living in those four weeks.

It has now been four weeks since her fate was foretold, and I feel fortunate for four weeks that I will never forget.

Well done, Bailey. Well lived, Bailey.

A Good Tug

Bailey has always taken two distinct approaches to tug-o-war.  Either she vigorously drives the game until she captures the object of prey, or she hangs on and enjoys the ride until the driver runs out of gas from boredom or exhaustion. In either case, she enjoys the game thoroughly and almost always wins.

When she was still a very young, very small pup, an adult dog cajoled Bailey to play tug with it—patiently showing her that it was ok to take hold of the same stick onto which his much larger and much more frightening teeth were also attached.  He showed her the joys of pulling and tugging, and even flying through the air when he lifted his head as Bailey held on, her still un-plumed tail pointing the way and her ears flopping like under-developed wings.  He showed her that growling is sometimes laughing, that snarling is sometimes smiling, and that fighting is sometimes playing.  And, most important, he showed her how to recognize the difference.

From then on, Bailey refined her tug-o-war strategies and mastered her technique.  She soon developed two distinct approaches.  With some dogs (and all humans), Bailey grabs on and takes charge—yanking, bucking, pulling, growling and shaking vigorously in all directions.  She does the driving and she goes full throttle.  With other dogs, however, Bailey simply holds on and enjoys the ride.  She poses no resistance; instead allowing her opponent and gravity to do the work.  Eventually, after many long minutes or only a few seconds, one of two things will happen. Many dogs simply become bored or distracted with Bailey’s lame stance, leading them to loosen their grip to discover whatever sound or sight captured their attention. Bailey instantly seizes the moment and the desired object. Or they will exert all of their energy pulling 65 pounds of Bailey weight around the park, until they wear themselves out and fall from exhaustion.  In either case her opponents, be they canine or human, will eventually release or lose their grip, as Bailey takes off gleefully in a lap of victory, waiving what is now her stick or rope or strip of fleece proudly in the air like a flag. All hail the victor.

I have never been able to determine how Bailey makes the decision of whether to drive or ride.  It may be something she sees in her playmates’ eyes, or how they grip the object, or their first pull, or some vibe they give off.  I am clueless to how she reaches this decision or even if the choice is conscious.  But I do know that she makes the choice and that it is the correct choice far more times than not.  

Many years and countless tugs of war have passed since the day Bailey first learned to play the game, and she is now older than was the dog that taught her. Her grip is no longer as tight and she is unable to endure nearly as many rounds as when she was young. Still, to this day, Bailey enjoys a good tug and she continues to employ the strategies that she developed as a pup, and refined through her many years.  She continues to demonstrate what is important about tug—to grab on, hold on and enjoy the game—and life—to the end.  To drive with as much vigor as can be mustered when you drive, and to enjoy the ride without resistance when you ride. And, perhaps most important of all, to know when to drive and when to ride.

Well done Bailey.