I might change my mind and write more, but I think people (me included) “get it.” It’s not going to be too long for Bo, now, unfortunately. I can’t say I feel like writing, but on the other hand, I really really do want to write – so that’s what I’m doing. I’m “getting it down.” The feels. I want to give a little update, but I kind of just want to talk about me, and what I’m mentally going through right now. It’s not terribly fun, so – again – NOT A FUN POST ALERT. Disclaimer: stated.
Bo and I had steak, asparagus, and homemade mashed potatoes for dinner. When all was said and done, he got about a third of the delicately cut up manager’s special discounted steak from Gelson’s, as well as more than enough asparagus to make his pee neon and smelly. Oh boy. He loved it. I loved it. I loved that he loved it.
It’s been fucking with my head a lot lately, because I know that these things are growing inside of him. He’s so thin, now. His shoulders and neck and hind legs are pretty noticeably jagged, though he’s had so much fat taking up space under there for so long, you can’t really tell until you pet him. So I know what’s going on, but when people see him they must just think, oh, he’s just an old dog. And when I see him, I think that he looks like that, and then I have to force myself to remember that these things are growing inside of him and at some point they’ll get the better of him. His ribcage is probably bigger than it was before all this started, and it’s oddly firm. He’s got new, big, firm bumps in and around his belly, so if it’s not directly spreading, more tumors have popped up since July.
But when he’s not sleeping, he slowly stands up and moves around to wherever I am. When it’s time for a walk, he has a spark of excitement that makes me forget what’s going on inside. It’s really fucking with my head because the vet anticipated 6 months, and that’s next month. Totally understood, by the way, that an estimate is just that – but I believe my vet, and what he saw, and I think that’s about right. The reality in my world right now is that in a month, my pup will probably be gone. And what’s more is that he’ll probably be gone by my hand – my choice. I can’t wrap my head around that fully, yet. He’s had an amazing life, and he’s been the center of my world for a long time, but a part of me just wants me to walk into the apartment to a dead dog someday so I don’t have to make the decision when it’s “right for Bo.” It is making me crazy because people say “you’ll know when he’s ready.” Well, I’m afraid that he’ll be perfectly fine, and then in an instant – if one of these things ruptures – he’ll go from what he is now to a weak, sickly, incapacitated pup and I don’t want that to happen. So I think, he’s had a good life, all of this is borrowed time, and that helps me a little, but not much. Then I think well, what more will he accomplish aside from continuing to deteriorate and make me lose sleep?
Nowadays, if he only wakes me up once or twice in the night, it’s a fantastic night. In the last week, I had one night of “decent” sleep. Between Monday and Tuesday, I got about an hour worth of sleep – for example – because Bo will literally breathe into my face to make sure I’m around, then he’ll walk around the room, pacing, and he’ll jump on the bed and lay down on me/my head/my hair. Sometimes he’ll get up and whimper to go outside, only to go back to sleep when I get out of bed and get moving. I’ve been making up for my lack of sleep with trying to nap, but – like today – I tried to nap and I can’t stop thinking about him.
Someday, when you’re older, I’ll even tell you about the other night when I happened upon a potential fun evening that Bo decided he didn’t approve of. In spite of that dog-block, I just laughed because in a short amount of time, I’m not going to be able to have that as a “thing” anymore. Odd as it may sound – and I would have loved for that evening to happen – I care significantly more about how Bo is at this moment in time, rather than how I am.
Truth be told, I’m not great. Acting’s been slow as shit. Writing was good there for a while, but after I finished the second draft of my pilot, I just kind of let it sit – where it is still today. Work has been tolerable, but it’s feeling more and more “corporate,” which I don’t like. I have a few positive things in my life, which I’m trying to foster, but it’s been very difficult to see those positive things. I know that is coming across in my day-to-day, and as hippie as it sounds, I think I’ve been putting out an “I’ve got other things on my mind” kind of vibe, which has translated into my life. I’ve been trying to meditate every morning thanks to a guided meditation app called “Headspace” and I’ve started to really enjoy that. I’ve also been trying to read more, rather than focusing on Facebook or all the depressing shit that’s happening in the world. I just finished The Wisdom of Yoga, thanks to the years-ago recommendation from one of my closest friends, Hank. And now, I’m about halfway through a book called “Big Magic” which was another recommendation from my friend, Emma.
I feel like a broken record. My day’s are even kind of on repeat because each day I wake up, groggy due to lack of uninterrupted sleep, go through my morning routine, go to work, and hesitatingly come home to see if Bo’s still around or if I’m now the proud former owner of a now-giant paperweight. If that happens I’m going to absolutely flip out. That’s why the horribly morbid thought of me deciding when “it’s time” for Bo is almost calming and confirming. My vet gave me his emergency number in case anything happens – which was extremely nice – and he’s just the best. He has been for 6+ years now. When I have to put Bo down, I want him to do it. Fuck. It’s just so messed up. I’m just happy the vet finally gave me a different number than the front desk because it’s VERY difficult to get ahold of him via the various channels of front desk workers who don’t exactly have the same tact and bedside manner as he does. I’m sure they deal with needy pet owners all day, which I can’t even imagine how annoying that must be, but they could use a tune-up in the compassion and urgency of response departments.
I reserve the right to write as much more or as little more as I would like about Bo or about life, but I’ll leave you with this. If you’ve made it this far in my post, I appreciate it. I always appreciate it. I’m thinking about having a BO-ing Away party for Bo (and me) at the beginning of December if he makes it that long. I’m going to have friends over who either want to just support me and meet Bo before he’s gone, or for those special friends of mine who have been a part of my life, and thus Bo’s, who want to spend one last night together. I’m going to set up my video camera and ask that people either say something supportive of me, and/or a funny story about Bo, so that I can then look back at those happy memories or stupid stories at some point and laugh because I’m really going to need that. No pressure or anything, and nothing needs to be serious at all, but it’d be wonderful. I’m going to also try and live-stream the party somehow for people who want to “participate” but can’t make it to LA to do so. I don’t exactly know how that’s going to work yet, but I think it’d be pretty cool. I’ll try to make it for like, a random Sunday early evening or something. We’ll have beer and food and my friends can get to know my other friends and friends who stalk me on here or on facebook or wherever can get to know me better via my dog and via my other friends, etc. I just want to be happy among all this shit. I think I want to have that party, and if you want to be a part of it, please let me know, and I’ll include you. If you don’t, or if you think I’m weird for wanting to do this, no worries, but I feel like I need this for me. No guarantees I’ll be able to stay sober / dry-eyed. Of course I chose today to not drink at all, but I’m happy to report that my tear-ducts are currently working.
With that party under our belt, based on the trajectory of Bo’s inside growths, it feels like it’s going to be “time” before the end of the year. Potentially finish this year devastated, and start 2018 anew. Thanks for reading and supporting and let me know if you’d want to be invited to the party. Much love.