Rescued (The End)

6/9/12

 Rescued (The End)

After tending to my morning stores I make sure that the dog is going to be safe in the house while I go out and run some errands.  I travel to the pet store where I buy a collar, leash and food.  I ask the clerk about a vet referral and she hands me a card for someone quite near by.  As I sit in my car I get out my seldom used cell phone and dial the veterinarian’s office.  I explain my situation and they say that I can come in today.  Before hanging up, the receptionist asks me for my dog’s name.  I simply reply, “Rusty.”

Later when I take Rusty to the vet, he performs beautifully while walking on a leash and I appreciate the lack of effort required on my part.  During the examination, the vet turns to me and says, “This is an old dog, I estimate maybe 12 years.”  I nod my head in response because I don’t know what else I should say.

The vet continues his examination and after manipulating Rusty’s body begins to frown.  “Rusty has several very large masses in his stomach and I can’t be sure without further tests; but, I believe they are probably cancerous.”

 

This time I find my voice.  “No further tests.  I have terminal cancer and I believe there was a reason that we found each other."  

The vet offers me sympathy but I wave him off.  “Not to worry doctor.  I have a few months left and now I have Rusty, so hopefully we’ll ride off into the sunset together."

Once Rusty and I are home we go into the den.  I settle into my favorite chair and Rusty curls up beneath my feet.  

 

My phone begins to ring and interestingly enough it’s one of my sons who has suddenly remembered that I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday.  “So how are you Mom?  Everything good?”

I respond with more positivity than I have had in years.  “Everything is absolutely fine.  Cancer is in remission and apparently I’m going to live for years and years.”

My son automatically responds, “That’s great Mom.  Glad to hear it.  Gotta run.  Talk to you soon.”

I sigh as I hang up the phone and realize that I’m actually happy.  I wasn’t lying about everything.  I really am fine.

Days and months go by.  Spring is in the air I can smell it.  But, I'm beginning to lose weight rapidly and the pain is now taking over my days and nights.

The pain eventually gets the better of me and I return to the doctor.  He suggests hospice care and that I get my things in order.  He also gives me a prescription for pain medicine which should control the pain at least for the moment; but, will leave me loopy much of the time.

For some reason that I can’t understand and completely out of character I find myself telling the doctor about Rusty.  I tell him about how good the dog has been for me, and how much joy I have received from him.  I continue to tell the doctor that undoubtedly my relationship with Rusty will be a short one, but it’ll be good to the end.

The doctor pats me reassuringly and reminds me once again as he exits the room to call hospice and get my affairs in order.  I forgive him his callousness because of his youth as well as his vocation.  His whole life is spread before him and during that time he will pat and reassure many patients.

I call a cab because I no longer feel that I am able to drive and go first to the drugstore to fill my prescription and then home.  When you live alone the only thing that greets you upon your return is silence.  Now I have Rusty and he meets me at the door enthusiastically.  I reward him with his favorite dog biscuit but instead of chowing it down, he just pushes it around the kitchen floor with his nose.  I find it odd that Rusty seems “off his feed”; but, I assure myself that it wasn’t his dinner, just didn’t want a treat.

I climb the stairs with Rusty by my side, take my pain medicine and get into bed.  Rusty and I snuggle and for some reason unknown to me I hug him and tell him that I love him and thank him for giving me so much these past few months.  I sigh as I slowly drift off to sleep and just before darkness envelops me, I realize that I am clutching Rusty’s paw and realize that for the first time in a long time I am really fine.