Sunday, September 24, 2017

Remembering Lily

One more day

When we drove to the vet to the last Friday appt before closing time we hit two clusters of traffic and then the car coughed and died next to the Braga bridge. A dangerous spot. Cars were zooming by shaking the little 1995 Honda. Now I feared for our safety. I had a sturdy 2 gallon jug of water and began feeding lily water from the large plastic lid. She was drinking it! Amen. We called the state police and triple a and told them we were in a dangerous spot. We waited. We called the vet and said our car died. We'll try for tomorrow.

Waiting in the blazing sun buffetted by the zooming cars, felt like a very long time. When the triple a guy arrived he put out a cone and directed traffic away from us. Then the flat bed tow truck arrived. We were parked against the guard rail. I was afraid to step out towards the cars until the triple A man assured me we could do it safely. Bill and I carried Lily making a sling from our purple towel, stepping into the road between the flat and the guardrail and then up three steps into the air conditioned cab seat. Amen. When we got inside I was relieved. Lily was the happiest I'd seen her all day. She was loving it. She was on our laps and Derick the Providence based triple A tow truck guy was very kind. We have our dog, we were on the way to the vet, sorry about the dog hair.

A car accident happened behind us just as we were leaving the spot.

We came home relieved and giddy glad to be alive exhausted drank 2 beers and ate dinner.
In the morning Lily was energetic and happy. Going out on a good note we drove back to the vet. The tumor was bigger. We knew what was best. She was so strong and athletic even until the last moment.
We will miss her.

The car started up fine and the mechanics so we decided it was divine intervention. We got one more day.

Lily was so strong in heart and lungs it took extra dose of tranquilizer. That was sad.


Would you like the ashes? no I have plenty of hair to remember her.


Her big stretches.

Be kind, keep wagging, walking swimming and sniffing and do not be afraid. Do a happy dance when your friends come visit but don't hump the bed.

Climbing over her in the kitchen while making coffee
Rushing home to let her out.
I was her servant and glad to be. She came first.

She was my medium.


SAD NEWS: Lily passed away Saturday. Bone Cancer. We've been grieving since Tuesday when we got the news thinking she had a pesky sprained ankle. It was a tumor. She was my best teacher guru and lover of life. So I am grieving and thinking about how many lives she touched and what a gift she was to all. We stitched a community together. I've been on bicycle making the rounds. We're all terminal on this bus, The Titanic! The question is how do we want to go down. Fiddling and dancing or racing across the boat pulling our hair out.

Beloved Lily, the Dalai Lama of Woonsocket.

I lost one of my dearest friends yesterday. My beloved Lily the Labrador Amazon long legged beauty friend to all lover of life and people and all dogs Lover of every moment. She was my best teacher. When people stop me to meet her I'd tell them she was my spiritual leader, personal trainer, friend to all Ambassador to Woonsocket. Her meaty paws on athletic frame dictated the journey each day although we both liked routine routes for checking in on our neighbors. She was a gentle horse in a canine supermodel body. she was my vehicle. My transport though the world. We walked everywhere and everyone bent the rules inviting her in: city hall, post office, and schools, "Is she a service dog? No but she is to me. We weathered the recession, loneliness shared solitude early morning and most of all we created and wove and knitted a community one 'wag and greet' at a time. I could tell by her body language when she was itching for her walk and she always convinced to keep on sniffing walking greeting playing outside.

Where are you going? Wherever she wants to take me.

How best can I honor her?

Put on my running sneakers and face the world in her honor. Be the athlete, friend to all with as much courage kindness and grace as Lily

Today I started walking and had to get my bicycle. I rode to all of the places I usually walk and saw all the folks I was missing the past few weeks.

I saw a baby opossum when the dumpster guy lifted the dumpster. Did you see that? Yes I did he said smiling. He crawled back into his apartment! The hole next to the rock. I thought it was a rat until I saw his cute pink nose!

On Tuesday night we took Lily to see Dr. Belinsky at Sakonnet Animal Hospital in Tiverton RI. And he noticed the bump was not swelling but a mass. He took an X-ray and could tell by the negative that it was bone cancer. She's in pain but hiding it well. He gave us pain medication for her to take and said he wanted to see her in 2 weeks to see how it was progressing. On the way home we realized the gravity of his diagnosis. The next day she chilled out. Thursday the walk through the back yard was not satisfying her. She pulled me down the street to the park. Coincidentally Sylvia and her terrier Lucy were sitting outside. We sat together. It was a beautiful moment. Sylvia asked me How's Lily's leg. I said. I can't talk about it. Sylvia said I understand. We chatted about a few things and in her 80 year old way asked me again, Hows Lily's leg. I said I can't talk about it. She said I understand. and we chatted some more. Then she asked again and I looked at her and said. It's not good, she has a bone cancer and the mass on her leg is a tumor where the growth is rapidly spreading. Sylvia's eyes teared up and she looked away. But she's having a great day today and she dragged me to the park. I'd rather she have a great last day than a bunch of horrible ones. Sylvia wiped her eyes, agreeing. I don't know what I'd do without Lucy, she said. I know, I've always felt the same way about Lily. Hey but we're here together right not and this is a beautiful moment. You're alive I'm alive and Lily and Lucy are happy. We're all terminal on this bus. We're all on the Titanic together. Are we going to go down dancing and fiddling or go down panicked, racing from one end of the boat to the other. I said.

"I'm not going to die, I'm in denial, " Sylvia said. You may want to talk to Pastor Gene about that.

Our pets are our teachers, gurus spiritual advisors. Love them, love people, love life like there's no tomorrow.

If I die tomorrow will you take care of Lucy. Absolutely. I'll be Lucy's Godmother.
And you know where the key is, just come in and take her, she said.
Absolutely.

But you are not dying tomorrow. I'm taking you to Champs diner.

We can buy a muffin and linger all day, Sylvia said
My treat
Oh then I won't buy a muffin.
What?
Sylvia, I have a gift certificate a friend gave me in December for my birthday.

Let's use it!
Okay.
We laughed.

When we learned my Grandfather was dying my step-father scolded me for weeping.

"He's not dead yet!" he shamed me. I have begun the grieving process after last nights diagnosis of my best canine friend.

When I was 5 I would curl up with our Scottish Deerhound Teddie and whimper hoping she would claim me as her pup. Nothing has changed. I have been looking for my true mother in all of my canines.

I'm a Jewish Labrador, just like my Brighton Beach grandmother: I like food people and swimming!

For the past two summers I have used the back room as my office. "My summerhouse" I said to a friend who stopped by to drop off a book. It's messy and chaotic with books papers and chairs and a lawn mower. In the center of the room is my white enamel table serving as my desk. It's a small room and on the ground floor perfect for my older dog to reach the yard. There's a big air conditioner for quick cooling my dog and me, and the garden hose and clothesline are right there.

The past two nights allergies allergy medicine and anxiety over Lily and then tears over Lily woke me up. She has bone cancer. Her right rear leg has a bone cancer tumor and the prognosis is not good. We were at our beloved vet's office last night.

This morning I clipped the leash on her and we walked through the yard. Lily pulled She begged me to step out on the street so we did. "Okay we'll go round the block" I thought. On the way home I noticed my neighbor, on Elbow street had planted about 16 sunflower heads along the granite wall in the park in front of his house. He was walking with his young daughter across the grass. "It's beautiful" I said.
"Why should I make just my garden beautiful, when I can make the world beautiful?"
"Absolutely," I said, "This should be engraved in stone, on an archway entrance to the park. Can I quote you?"
"Yes you can," he said turning the corner. He told me that he once owned a flower shop in Apponaug RI.

This is what Lily brings to my life. It's because of Lily I stop and meet all of my neighbors. Because of Lily I can feel and give love. She is my medium. She leads my trail in the world.

She is our City's canine ambassador, always loving to all people and all dogs. Her visits have a way of always cheering people up., making the world more friendly. She willingly takes a bath and loves going to the vet. Her only adversary is shiny polished linoleum. She's never minded vacuum cleaners, fireworks or thunder. If you obstruct her path she will refrain from passing and wait until you move the broom or chair.

She loves the library because she knows I'll be right back. She quietly waits and gets pet by everyone. She's our library lion.

Every day is travel just walking out the door, with Lily.

This is part of life. This is the risk of love. Love and keep on loving. Trust the universe will continue to provide opportunities for love and companionship.

Not having a canine companion is like opting to live without gravity. I did not take Lily for granted. Every day was the best day of our lives. Wind snow sleet rain we were athletes together addicted to the long walks. "I see you everywhere," the public works guy says raking the field. "She demands it, and it's good for me too. She's my personal trainer."
"You know everyone," Sylvia says. Lily introduces me. "You're the dog lady," a woman said to me online at Joblot. "Yes I am." Most people don't recognize me without her. I don't recognize myself without her. "She's my guru, my spiritual advisor," I'll say to anyone who will listen.

She is ten an a half this month. I adopted her when she was one and a half years old. She was at the humane society and had been given up twice. We were both refugees from Westchester.

When I complain about all of my flaky friends who can't make plans I realize my best friend is always at the ready. We go out and walk the city and harvest some sidewalk stories. Lily turned me into a writer and a friend to the city.

I am crying because she has been a perfect friend to me and I fear I will have a gaping hole in my life forever in the shape of her. But I have to trust the swirl of change and hope that I can love again.

We got through the recession, depressions, winters, loneliness, the crack house, parking lot PTSD,

Is she a service dog?
Kinda.

All of my dogs have visited me in my dreams.

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