two months ago we decided to stop ransom's chemotherapy to treat his lymphoma, a type of cancer that effects his lymph nodes. the treatment was no longer working. and a couple of weeks after that decision was made, as i grappled with my feelings about it, i sat down and wrote this, a tribute to my best friend, my hero, my buddy. i am certain i will never be able to top it.

i am not the kind of person that has ever successfully lived in the moment. sure, i strive for that ideal. i even read about it :O) and i believe in it. and i believe that Tibetan monks or cloistered nuns or maybe hermits (in the true sense of the word) can achieve moment to moment living. i never dreamed my dog would teach me how to do this. but ransom has taught me that time is an illusion. that what we have together is eternity. that it doesn't end. and i've truly been living that for the last 2 months. somehow, i let go of those thoughts about what would one day come. past and future has dissolved into the daily celebrating of our togetherness. and by celebrating, i'm not implying there has been fanfare and balloons. there is just the (glorious!) mundane and the (wonderful!) sameness and the absolute joy in that sameness! the pure bliss of our routines together. or taking special notice of his daily and regular habits. the way he prefers to arrange the couch pillows beneath him, the couch itself not suitable enough a bed. the way he greets me each time i come through the door. the way he waits for me at the top of the stairs. every little thing, every look and sigh and snore. and because of that, i can honestly say i've made peace with the future, and have been thankful for the time ransom and i have together.

when my hands found more tumors along his chest and neck a couple of weeks ago, and under his front legs (what would be our axillae), i would look into his eyes, holding his head in my hands, and grumpily mutter: "we don't like those tumors buddy" and that was all. what else was there to say? i didn't focus on them.

and i haven't written about these things here, because, well... i've been busy about the business of living in the moment. there hasn't been the time and i haven't had the inclination. until tonight, until just now, when i've found myself in that place again where i cannot, even for one second, imagine life without him.

we see his vet tomorrow. because his vet is a friend also and she understands i'm worried and even though he is fine, or seems fine, and is eating well, and in no way seems to be affected by this new tumor growth... well, i don't like it. and i want to hear her say it's okay or it's not okay or just that i'm doing all the right things. i don't know. i don't know what i want.

30 more unrealistic years. yes, i will take that.

that's what i want. to live into my old age with this dog. only this dog. no other. because he's my Boob. and i don't want life without him in it and tonight, well, i'm allowing myself to feel that and to be selfish. tonight the tears fall for what will come. tonight i'm not living in the moment and i'm worried for the future. i'm worried for the place on my bed where his body has slept by mine for 7 years. tonight i'm indulging in this pain of what is to come. and that's okay.

tomorrow, i will wake up differently. i will thank him as i do everyday for each day he gives me.