I’ve never been much of a gambler, other than the occasional scratch or powerball ticket. No interest in casinos.. all the lights and smoke and noise .. bah. I used to joke that I used up all my luck in high school anyway. I don’t put a lot of faith in karma, fate, etc etc. Life is just what is. Sometimes it’s great and sometimes it sucks but it’s the same for all of us.
I’ve been thinking a lot about odds lately though. For instance.. what were the odds that my sister would die while I was undergoing cancer treatment? Probably not that high, but she did. Afterwards I kept after my husband that we needed to update our wills, put our affairs in order “because you never know”. But really, what were the odds it would happen twice in one family? Apparently pretty high since he died less than a year after she did.
What were the odds that a lump that was not there in the morning and actually clearly visible in the evening could be anything but a cyst? It was cancer. What were the odds it could happen again? Greater than I thought. Yes, cancer has struck my house again. This time it’s my dog.
Comet
Comet came to us 11 years ago as the result of a bet with a 13 year old soccer player and her extremely warped coaches. My daughter played on a travel team in a defensive role. Not really in a position to score. She had been asking for a dog. Clearly we were not dog people. We were cat people. Dogs were expensive and smelly and just a lot of work in general. On our way to a tournament one weekend I said if she scored she could have a dog. She didn’t believe me. Her father backed me up. What were the odds she’d score? They got significantly higher when she told her teammates and coaches about our bet. Early on in the game we noticed a disturbing trend. The whole team was feeding her the ball. She not only scored, she got a hat trick. We were the only parents not cheering. Actually there may have been some unsportsmanlike language from the vicinity of our canvas seats on the side line.
Well a bet is a bet and a promise is a promise, so I went to the local humane society with my list of conditions. From my daughter the dog had to be black and white (like a soccer ball). My husband wanted a male and it had to be at least a year old, no puppy. I said it had to have blue eyes. The odds of finding a dog that fit all that criteria were pretty low, right? First trip to the shelter, 3rd cage to the right in the big dogs room there he was, bouncing up and down like a demented Tigger on crack. Shit. Wait, but what’s this? Oh.. he’s been adopted. Too bad. Feeling certain it would never happen I told the staff to let me know if his adoption fell through and no, thank you. I don’t want to look at the other dogs. He’s the only one that I was interested in. Two days later I got a call. His new owner had returned him. Sigh
So I went and got him and I’d like to say it was a perfect match and he was a great dog. He was a dick. From day one. The first thing he did was take a dump on my bedroom floor. Then he decided the recliner would work very nicely as his command central. He would run away constantly. You’d see him hauling ass up the road, down by the river, running victory laps around the house. I started lying when neighbors would call to report a sighting. I’d tell them it couldn’t be my dog. My dog was right here. There were times he was so bad I would cry because I didn’t think we could keep him but I knew he wasn’t likely to be given too many more chances. I understood we were the third attempt. On the advice of the staff at the humane society I bought a crate. I felt bad putting a full grown dog in a crate but after a while he got used to it and would put himself in time out. He hung out with me in my office. He was starting to grow on me.
After a time we couldn’t imagine not having him in our family. For the cost of some kibble, chew bones and a comfortable bed he has been a constant source of amusement. He is terrified of cats, thunder, fireworks and the sounds of gunfire. He has a fondness for UPS brown. He barks like he wants to rip your throat out when you drive into my dooryard, but if you come in the house, invited or not, you are his best friend and he will offer to show you where the best snacks are kept. He loves to ride in the car, even though 99% of his car rides end at the vet’s or kennel. He has never put the two together. If you put an item of clothing on him, he freezes and will not move until you take it off. He doesn’t run away anymore, but if he finds himself loose he will do one quick lap around the house and then throw himself at the door to be let back in. When my husband died, he gave up his comfy bed and started sleeping across my bedroom doorway. He seemed to sense I needed him there. My new bedtime routine is to move his bed from it’s usual spot in my office to outside my bedroom. We sleep in a row with my little dog, Clover, in her spot near the bed.
Comet’s tumor was found much like mine. Not there one day and hard to ignore the next. My long time veterinary clinic would not see him though I begged. I was leaving for Texas in a few days and he was to be boarded. While I understand a lump is not an emergency, I am a cancer survivor. We don’t ignore lumps. When I returned from Texas I made an appointment with a new clinic and they have been wonderful. Sure this was just a fatty tumor, they biopsied it and got concerning results. Surgery revealed a much larger mass than suspected and they could not get it all without causing muscle and nerve damage. Pathology report came in yesterday and it is, indeed, cancer. Good news, it is not the kind that metastasizes normally. Bad news, they did not get it all so it will likely grow back. I’m taking a wait and see approach and for the moment he is doing great. He had his stitches out today and carried on like they were killing him. Such a drama king.
While history tells me the odds are not usually in my favor, they have been in his and I’m betting on him to be around for a few years to come.
mainelyhopeful 
Your writing is so beautiful, Susan! thanks for sharing your gift. So sorry to hear about Comet…
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ty, Tina
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Oh dear. This is, actually, a wonderful story of love and redemption. My husband and I are looking to adopt a new dog — from a shelter. “He was a dick” cracked me up. I know I will be thinking just that before too long.
Best of luck getting your buddy through this — and I hope your belief that they will get it the second time around and that Comet will have many more years with you.
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Can’t wait to read about your new buddy!
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Me too!
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I didn’t intend to laugh when reading this..and at first I kind of panicked thinking your cancer came back…I wanted to say I am so sorry that Comet is going through this. But also, you freaking crack me up. I laughed my ass off reading about your dog and how funny he is. And I got teary eyed when I read the part about him sleeping by your doorway after your husband died. My dog knew I had cancer again months before I did. He never left my side and he was driving me insane and I would trip over him constantly. Now I know why. 🙂 Hugs to you and Comet has a personality where a little cancer is not going to bog him down. Ever.
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If I ever lose my ability to see the humor in life, I’m packing it in. Isn’t it funny how intuitive dogs can be?
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Mia and I will keep Comet in our prayers. No worries. As you are always on my list.
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ty xo
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I hope this time the odds are in your favor.
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Me too!
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Hopefully it will be a slow growing form of cancer. Having 3 dogs, I know how they tend to be like your children. We worry about them as they ask nothing from us except love, food and a good home. I wouldn’t trade, Gypsy, Jaspa and Sadie for anything.
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I hope so too, John
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Loved your story about Comet and I truly hope he beats the odds with the nasty-C disease! I also was always a cat person until we let our young son have a beagle when he was about 8 years old. Long story short, “Angel” (I called her my fallen Angel) became my dog long before my son went to college. When he was a senior in college, I got breast cancer and while I was on chemo, Angel developed a cancer that took her life. I thought that was a rather odd turn in life. At 4 1/2 years out, I’m still cancer free and I pray that you stay that way, too!
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Thank you. I’m sorry you lost your little Angel.
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This broke my heart. Really? Perhaps it is time to go buy a lottery ticket. I pray that you and Comet will have many years together. Beautiful writing, as always.
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Thank you xo
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betting right along with you…excellent odds for your dear Comet. please give him a gentle pet from me. Karen xoxo
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Done! 🙂
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So sorry to read this. One of my dogs developed a very fast progressing cancer. In a matter of weeks it was over. I’m happy to hear Comet is doing well and I wish both of you many good years.
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Thank you! I’m sorry about your dog.
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I love your fresh, new blog site – looks fantastic! much love, Karen xoxo
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Thank you. Just playing around 🙂
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Susan, I hope that Comet’s treatment goes well. We had a cat for 11 years who was also “a dick”. But we loved him and he provided a lot of joy and expensive vet bills. xoxox
-Elizabeth
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I also have a miniature aussie and two elderly cats. I know vet bills!
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Sorry that you’re having to deal with crap again. I hope Comet beats the odds and is around to keep you company for a long time. Pets are family too.
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Thank you. He’s doing really well for the time being 🙂
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Susan, so happy to see you writing again. I’ve missed you dear friend and I’m so sorry about Comet. Your writing as always sends me through different emotions so effortlessly ~ one minute I’m sending congrats to your daughter for a hat trick, then I’m giggling about Comet (he’s a dick) and the next I’m remembering your hubby and sister and I’m sad…finally, I’m thankful for Comet for protecting you at night and now I’m hoping he’s ok…I’m sending healing, heartfelt hugs as always. I was happy to see your ‘sniff’ on my blog. xoxo I’m always around…sending you all the good karma, good luck and healing that I can muster. xo
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xxoo
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