Why am I writing this?

I have known many, many people who have had their dogs die from cancer. In many cases, the cancer was too far advanced to treat. Of those who did treat, you don't know the details of what they went through. It sounds quite simple when summarized with 'we went though chemo and he lived 2 years'. There is a whole lot more emotion and decisions to be made. Treatment is not always simple.

This blog is my own personal experience. Some days are filled with frustration, others are filled with laughter. If anyone is offended, I can't apologize for my emotions. I typed what I felt at the time. It does not mean I feel the same today. If you want clarification, just ask. No matter my frustrations, I know my vet and oncologist are doing a fantastic job of caring for Arri. He just is not co-operating by being a 'typical' case.

Monday, January 30, 2012

January 12, 2012:

4th treatment:  I don’t need the alarm clock now.  Arri has the best internal clock of any dog we’ve had.  At 4:20 am, he was sitting on me, letting me know it was time for breakfast.  I couldn’t get back to sleep today.  Today I feel the effects of less/broken sleep.  I am tired and a bit crabby.  It doesn’t help that I am still trying to keep the bakery open – operating at minimal hours…HA.  I didn’t do that quite right this week.  When I get home tonight, I will have a lot of work to do for cakes and meetings tomorrow.  Thankfully, Tim will be taking Arri tomorrow so I can work.
Arri’s post treatment munchies attacks are nuts.  I am not sure if all dogs act like him but he is really goofy.  I had hid the food in a bag in front the of driver’s seat.  Gives me time to open my door and grab it before he does.  We loaded him into the car and  I turned to ask Kathy another question (she might be getting tired of that).  Arri did his thing when I wasn’t looking.  He is so uncoordinated; I don’t see how he even climbs into the front seat.  When I opened my door to grab the bag, he was in the front seat, kind of.  He was more in the foot well but still on the seat.  He was rooting through everything on the floor.  By the time I realized he was doing more than rooting, he had eaten two gas receipts and 3 kleenex.  He had reached the plastic trash bag that had sucker sticks and chocolate wrappers in it when I stopped him.  I shoved his rear end into the foot well with the rest of him and made him sit there and gain his bearings.  I poured some food into the bowl behind my seat and waited for him to climb back.  He didn’t move.  He realized the food was by my feet and tried to crawl over…breaking my sunglasses, shoving CD’s out of the way…sigh  I got him back in the front seat and showed him his food.  He climbed over, kind of, again leaving his back end on the front seat to eat his snack.  Tim is going to have an interesting trip tomorrow.  I think he thinks I am exaggerating the munchie thing.  

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