Chemo. Day One.

Today at the (doggie) oncologist’s office, another (human) client came in after I, and checked in, sat down while I filled out paperwork. Then one of the clinic staff came over with a bath mat, offering Roscoe an alternative to the tile.

He lay down on the mat, wagging his tail while he looked at the other human client. After a few minutes, she said, “My stars. I can’t help it. You are just too darn adorable.” She got up, walked across the lobby, knealt down, gave Roscoe a big hug and then a couple minutes of belly rub, telling him what a happy and loved dog he is.

There are some really bad headlines in the world these days.  Then there are the headlines we walk through.  I’m guessing right now that for every painful thing that happens in a life, there are hundreds or thousands of blessings and miracles that happen as well.  I wonder how many of these things I have missed?  I’ve seen more than a few, but now that my mind is more like a dog’s, I see it everywhere. Cups runneth over all over the place. Blessings pour out of every unexpected place. Mr. Rogers was right:

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”

These people that show a little kindness out of the blue are my heroes, and I never noticed there are so many of you out there.  I knew you were out there, but never realized just how many.

Living gospels.

Roscoe is doing really well, considering how I thought he might be eight hours after his first round of chemo.  His appetite isn’t as voracious as it normally is, but he’s got appetite.  He’s even playing with Hazel tonight after a long day.  He walked a few hundred yards altogether, I’m sure.  When we got home, he had a little face-plant near the front door, but I’m thinking he caught the scent of a cat or possum, and stopped to take it in.

I’m happy with my vet’s choice of specialist.

I’m stoked to be comforting my friend.

I have no words for how I feel about his comfort to me.

He’s a gem.

Humans favor their dogs.

6 thoughts on “Chemo. Day One.”

  1. Kindness can’t be overrated. Roscoe, you are stunning. Much love sent tonight to you and your human companion.

  2. Good going. We had our first chemo a week ago. Minimal side effects. We got do what we can. My original vet gave no option but s death sentence ? Glad o explored the option we did. We do this for them not to them

    I wish you many mNy more years with that love muffin

  3. Oh my goodness! Love this update for so many reasons! And these great pictures are an extra special bonus! 🙂

    Yes, the “life lessons” our dogs teach us on this journey are life altering. You clearly have an excellent teacher in Roscoe, and he has a quick learning student in you! Applause to you for living in the now and embracing the beauty of every sacred moment with your Rosoe! 🙂

    Yes Roscoe, you are indeed loved and indeed very adorable!

    And that picture of the two of you together…PRICELESS! 🙂

    And YAY for the first chemo done!!

    Hugs

    Sally and Alumni Happy Hannah and Merry Myrtle and Frankie too!

  4. That is just a wonderful post! And I just love those pictures. Omd Roscoe is just so handsome!! Glad his first chemo went well. It amazes me how well they do now and how far medicine has come for them.
    Way to go you guys!
    Jackie and Huckleberry 🙂

  5. If he did that well after his first treatment, he’ll likely sail through the rest. What a sweet mug he’s got…

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