The Stages of Grief

It was recently brought to my attention that I am going through the five stages of grief, brought on by the disappearance of our cat, Mr. Squiggles. We still have hope that he'll be found, but the fact remains that he's been missing for one month today. I haven't seen him in over five weeks.

We often think of grief as something that takes place after a loved one dies, but really, any trauma can bring it on. I'm experiencing it now, but I also went through these stages when Indiana was diagnosed with cancer.

1. Denial

Then: This can't possibly be happening! She can't be dying! How could my dog get cancer?

Now: This can't possibly be happening! My cat can't be missing! How could this happen to us?

2. Anger

Then: Why? Why is this happening? This is so unfair! Indiana doesn't deserve this; we don't deserve this. Damn you, God, why are you doing this?

Now: Why? Why is this happening? This is so unfair! We've done everything we can to be good parents, and this is how we are rewarded? Damn you, God, why are you doing this?

3. Bargaining

Then: Ok. What's it going to take to make things right? I'll give anything to save her. I'll give up my career. I love my career. Take it, just save her.

Now: Fix this! Make it right! I'll give anything to have him back. I'm doing everything I can to find him, spending any amount of time and money. We need and deserve him back!

4. Depression

Then: She might die. How will I survive if she dies? Life is so unfair. What is the point? How do I get through this? I'm walking through life with a dark cloud permanently following me.

Now: We might never get him back. He could be dead. Even if he's not, we might never see him again. How can I survive never seeing him again? Was the last time I saw him the last time? Is that the last touch I'll ever have? The last kiss? How do I get through this? I'm walking through life with a could permanently following me.

5. Acceptance

Then: This is awful and scary, but life has to go on. Every day that she survives makes it more likely that she'll live cancer-free for the rest of her days. I have to move past the fear and pain and realize we can beat the cancer.

Now: I haven't reached this stage yet. I don't think I want to.

Every day that he's missing is that much harder. We still have hope, but it gets more difficult. Others don't understand and think there's no way we'll get him back. They are wrong. I have no time or patience anymore for those who don't get it. I don't want to "accept that you might not get him back" or "think about getting another cat." My cat very likely could still be out there, and I will keep looking for him forever. I don't want another cat, because I want back the one I've lost. My life isn't whole with part of my family missing.

I don't know if it's comforting to realize I'm going through the stages of grief. Does it really matter? Perhaps it does. Three years ago, when Indiana was diagnosed with cancer, I thought my world was crashing in. But my strength got me through that crisis, and every day, it gets a little easier to live with a cancer diagnosis. If I could survive that, I can survive this. It's not been easy, but I remain hopeful and strong. Some days I feel like curling up into a ball and never emerging, and I don't try to fight those days too much. As with any roller coaster ride, the dips will be followed by a rise. I just have to ride it out.

Things I've Learned From My Dog: Heartache

I am no stranger to heartache. Indiana's illness quickly indoctrinated me into that world. My own pain grew into the pain of others, as I met my online cancer friends and experienced their pain and eventual loss. That's been pretty consistent for me, though over time I have learned to better separate my pain from theirs.

Now I am experiencing yet another heartache. Our beloved cat, Mr. Squiggles, is missing. We came home from vacation Friday night, and we still haven't seen him. We had a sitter staying with him, and he takes great care of our boys. He feels tremendously guilty about this, but we don't blame him in the slightest. It could have happened while we were home.

But it didn't. I can't stop blaming myself for this. What was he thinking while we were gone? Did he miss us? Was he angry that we left? If he's dead, did he die knowing we weren't with him?

These thoughts haunt me. I should never have gone on vacation. I don't see how I can ever travel again. This was one of my worst fears, and it has come true. I was supposed to protect and care for my boy, and I failed.

Life feels very dark right now. Jim and I are taking care of each other, as we cannot care for ourselves. We still have hope that we'll find him, and we're doing everything we can to make that happen. We will not give up.

But in the quietest moments of the night, we are reminded that he is not here. He is out there, somewhere, missing. I hope and pray that he is alive and well, just not able to make it back right now. I won't give up on him.

It will be a long road for us, especially the longer he is gone. I won't be alone; I have my old friend heartache to keep me company.

I'm a guest at Happy Dog Land

Last month, our cancer foundation had the opportunity to work a dog event hosted by the city of Chicago. While I was there, I was introduced to Billy Rafferty and Jill Cahr, whose book, HAPPY DOG: Caring for Your Dog's Body, Mind, and Spirit, just became available this month. Billy and Jill also have a blog, and they invited me to do a guest blog post about animal cancer.

Please head over to Happy Dog Land to read my guest post as well as all of the information Billy and Jill have to share.

38 Months and Counting

My friend Shanele and I spent part of the day yesterday at the University of Illinois Small Animal Clinic for Indiana's twice-yearly appointment with oncology. I'm always a nervous wreck before these appointments. Even though Indiana is doing well, it seems like I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop. We had a lot of bad news in the beginning, so I know things don't always go smoothly. Still, I know my dog, and I know she doesn't have cancer anymore.

I can't say as though I ever look forward to going, but it's become a pretty regular part of our lives, and I'm used to it. I take comfort in knowing what's going to happen. So of course yesterday, they had to change things. Normally, we start our visit by being led back to the private oncology waiting room, complete with couches for parents and furry kids alike. We chill out for a while until an oncologist comes to see us. They do an exam there in the little waiting room, and Indiana is taken away for blood tests, ultrasound, and x-ray. Otherwise, we all get to wait together.

But yesterday starts with a tech (not one of our regular ones!) taking us to an exam room...not our couches. I mention this, and she only says we can go to the couches later. Hmmm. I don't like change. After a very formal check-in (we've been coming here for over 3 years!), she tells us the doctor will be in soon...and not our usual doctor. Strike two. The visit with the doctor goes fine--she's one we've seen before, though she's a full doctor, not our usual resident. She has me sign forms and ok the costs for the procedures, something we've not had to do since Indiana first got sick. Huh? What's going on here? Why are we in this alternate-universe U of I???

After all that oddness is over, we are finally led back to our precious couches. Oh, sweet, fluffy couches. How I love you. You are so normal. The rest of the visit goes by much like usual. We see a couple of students, rather than a resident, because the department is short-handed right now. Indiana doesn't seem to like the unfamiliar faces. We're used to all of our usual people, who don't seem to be around today. Bah!

Overall, I can't really complain, because everything came back great. There is no sign of the cancer, and Indiana's heart arrhythmia, while still present, hasn't gotten any worse. There are a few age-related changes, which the doctor considers normal. (I'm just happy to still have a dog who's able to grow old!) Indy's BUN is high, though her creatinine is normal, most likely from her raw food diet, or from one of her supplements. I'm not overly concerned about this--I left Dr. Becker a message about it, and we'll see if she wants to run a fasting BUN sometime.

I was a tad irritated, because the release report mentioned something the vet hadn't--Indiana's adrenals are mildly bilaterally enlarged, more so than last time. I'm concerned this indicates a progression of the atypical Cushing's Disease she was diagnosed with about a year and a half ago. We'll see what Dr. Becker has to say about it.

But none of these things really worries me. The cancer isn't back, and Indiana feels better than she has in a long time. After cancer, nothing is insurmountable, and neither of these problems is life-threatening as they stand. Just like everything else, Indiana will kick ass.

Things I've Learned From My Dog: Listen!

We had a brief (and actually very minor, in the grand scheme of things) scare with Indiana this week; she stopped eating!

She's done this before, about two years ago. It's scary every time, given her history. My mind goes terrible places at first. Oh, God, why isn't she eating? Is she sick? Is it the cancer? It's the cancer, isn't it? How will I ever be able to deal with it? I can't go through this again. Why is this happening? Why? Then I take a deep breath and tell myself to shut up! For heaven's sake.

Turns out, Indiana, who isn't a picky eater, is a picky eater. The first time, she was turning her nose up at her food because we were trying to sneak pills into it. So out went the pills, and in came a new brand of food. We thought this round of food-snubbery was related to a new pill she's taking--a bit of stomach upset?--and fed her canned pumpkin that night to settle her stomach. The next day, she was still turning her nose up at the food, but she was acting completely normal. Hmmm. "Let's give her some of the cats' raw food," I thought to myself. "Let's experiment here." Sure enough, she ate that raw food like it was going out of style. Hallelujah!

We're still feeding Isis the homemade raw food, but Indiana is eating a locally-made raw food, Nature's Quest. Jim feels bad about this switch, because we were obviously feeding homemade because we felt it was the healthiest thing for our pets. I don't feel so bad about it though. It's not like we're going from raw to kibble. We're still talking about a high-quality, fresh diet, made by a company I trust (I've met one of the owners and traded emails with the other--they started feeding raw to their pets for the same reasons we did, only they decided to make a living out of it!).

For whatever reason, Indiana is done with the homemade food for the timebeing. She made that abundantly clear. We'll give her some time off and try the homemade food again. But it has gotten me to thinking. Even though we give our girls a good rotation of meat--a different source(chicken, turkey, lamb, or buffalo) every 5 meals and a different mix of fresh veggies and fruit every batch--it wasn't enough variety for Indiana. Maybe going back to the homemade isn't the right way to go. Maybe a rotation of different meats and different brands of commercial raw foods is right for her. It's so hard to know.

But what I do know is to listen to Indiana. She's pretty clear about what she wants, and why shouldn't I trust that?

Product Spotlight: Primal Pet Foods

This is the first in a series of posts on products I love. It was hard to choose which product would have the place of honor as the very first, because there are so many wonderful products out there, but ultimately, my gut said to go with Primal.

I discovered Primal foods several years ago when I switched over to holistic care for my pets. They make a wonderful line of premade raw meals, with meat sources like chicken, turkey, beef, lamb, quail, venison, and pheasant. The first thing that struck me about Primal was their ingredients list. Check it out:

Chicken, Chicken Necks, Ground Chicken Bones, Chicken Hearts, Organic Kale,
Organic Carrots, Organic Yams, Chicken Livers, Organic Broccoli, Organic Apples,
Organic Ground Flaxseed, Cranberries, Organic Unfiltered Apple Cider Vinegar,
Organic Parsley, Organic Coconut Oil, Organic Kelp, Alfalfa, Mixed Tocopherols
(source of vitamin E).

Oh my gosh! Amazing! I know and understand every ingredient on there! I love that their fruits and veggies are not only organic, but they use just the right mix, so they don't have to add any artificial vitamins or minerals. Humans are always told that it's better for us to derive our nutrients from food sources, rather than from vitamins in pill form. The same holds for our animals. Love it!

We don't feed the premade stuff anymore, but we do use Primal meat in our homemade mix. Primal makes a line of "grinds," which include the meat, organs, and bone. We add our own veggies and nutrients to this. The only reason we switched to a homemade diet was because we wanted control over the vegetables and add-ins, such as the oils, supergreen foods, and such.

Primal is always the first brand I mention when I recommend raw diets to others. I encourage you to visit their website, http://primalpetfoods.com/, read their company philosophy and drool over their wonderfully amazing ingredients lists. But pretend you're a dog when you're drooling, or otherwise it's pretty gross.

Happy Birthday, Squirt!

Today is my youngest kitty Gus' First Birthday. Or so we guess. He found us on September 25, 2008, and we guessed him to be about six to eight weeks old. He only weighed fourteen ounces, so he was super tiny, but he was weaned, so we think he was just an unlucky (although eventually VERY lucky) runt.

When we found Gus, he had an injured leg which turned out to be broken. After microscopic orthopedic surgery, Gus was good to go. Well, mostly. His leg couldn't be repaired correctly, so he can't bend it and now walks with a limp. But he couldn't care less. We have been constantly amazed by his ability to adapt. I've never once seen him frustrated at his disability. I'll tell Gus' story someday soon too, as there are lessons to be learned there as well. (Look for a post soon about his internet and calendar stardom!)

So, a very happy birthday to my little man. You've brought Daddy and I such joy. We are so lucky to have found you and brought you into our lives. You make us smile and laugh every day, and we love that we never know what you're going to do next.

The cutest darn kitten ever.

Guster today. Still pretty dern cute.