Chance

Meet Chance.

He's happy to be home.

* * *

I have a theory about the creatures around us. I developed it when the kids were really little, and I'd watch them "experiment" with bugs. They were so, very intrigued by them that those little bugs would get poked and prodded and manhandled beyond their little bug capabilities to survive sometimes. It was through these interactions that I taught the kids life things. None was necessarily profound, but those moments served as a way for the kids to learn something about other living things without actually hurting someone. It was then I thanked God for those very creatures that often annoy. This certainly isn't the reason for the existence of bugs we learn in our science classes, but I don't find their purposes to be mutually exclusive. So, I embrace both.

Since then, I started to look at all creatures in new ways. And, when we got Elly, there was no doubt in my mind that she was with us for big reasons. Like I stated yesterday, she literally changed the trajectory of my health and well being. She also is the one whose pace I followed to train to run beyond 5 miles. I even remember the run where I realized her role. I'd just been talking to God saying (whining), "I don't get why I don't know what to do to get better!" which is the same moment when I looked down and saw Elly plodding along happy as a clam to just be going. She'd go for as long as I let her, and she was perfectly pleased to do so no matter how long it took. In that moment, I realized I'd been given the very trainer I needed.

I'm in a slice of my life right now where I'm investing a lot of my time and energy into things I cannot change for the better. And, some of those things involve considerable, impending loss. It's a very difficult emotional place to be. I have been praying about it a lot, though, and I recently came to the peaceful conclusion that it would be okay to start investing in something that has wonderful potential to change for the better. I realized my heart has the capacity to welcome it, and I have it in me to handle it. I talked to Aaron about it, and he, too, was on board. 

We found him last night, and he won my heart immediately.

And, we named him Chance.

Aaron and I found him at the Humane Society yesterday evening, and I immediately fell in love with him. He's 13 months old possessing a wonderful case of being an unspecified Pound Hound. He's chock full of energy, and he exhausted me today introducing him to Elly and the kitties and to his new surroundings. This is a transition that could have been terrible, and it went pretty okay! We have a long way to go, but it was a good start! He is lightening fast when running around the backyard, and we're working on walking on the leash. Currently, he's exhausting in that regard, but he has already shown promise. Seeing the investment build, for as completely whipped as I am here at the end of the day, is worth the work!

He'll be worth it. He already is.

Welcome to the family, Chance!❤

Changes

I know. It's been quite some time ...

It's been almost a year since my last entry, and, even then, I knew I was running out of steam. I'd been with this running gig for about 8 years, and I was tired. Of course, that wasn't really about running at all.

Without recalling the details, I remember it being readily apparent that something had to give. I was perpetually just stretched razor thin mentally and physically, and, I knew I needed a break from something. The only option of what to cut out of my day at that time was running. My loss from running was my gain for a little more sleeping.

And, I took it. I took it hard core.

I meant to just take about a month to recoup figuring I'd get back in the swing when school rolled around. Long story short: Between July and December, I dabbled in a few jogs, and I walked a bit, but, really, I sat out while getting the other details in my life under better control. I'm not going to lie: I totally enjoyed the sleep.

Somewhere around the same time the calendar turned, I got back into it. But, I signed up for a Half Marathon to make sure I'd stick with it.

To say that my first few runs felt like I'd never before run is an understatement. I didn't use it, so I most certainly did lose it. *sigh* The only difference between starting up running this time and back in 2008 was that, this time, I already knew I could do it and just had to get there again. 

During training, I capitalized on my 6-mile training run to earn a 10K medal with Elly.

It was tough, but we did it. Together. Like it's been for a long time. She's been running with me for 9 years ... hell, she's the very reason I started running in the first place ... and, I knew, with her turning 10 just around the corner from this run in April that her long distance days were likely retired. And, I was okay with that.

I was not okay with what we recently learned.

About a month ago, we noticed a significant, sudden drop in Elly's weight. She'd dropped weight last year, but she maintained the drop. This was different. A check and testing showed that she has chronic kidney disease. The original suspicion before blood work but after an xray was that she had late-stage liver cancer. But, that wasn't the diagnosis. Chronic kidney disease, liver cancer, tuh-may-toe, toe-mah-toe. Seriously. The difference is somewhat moot.

*sigh* and *dammit to hell*

Very suddenly, as in, that very day, Elly's normal walking-for-fun days ended. Just like that. Never mind running, we were directed to take her no more than a mile, if she can walk that far, at her pace in the most ideal weather. The problem is the kidney disease makes it very difficult for her to eat which means she has no reserves to burn while exercising. So, she has shifted to relaxing inside and eating whatever will go down and stay down. Her diet is to consist of low protein, high carbs. And, wouldn't you know, it's almost impossible to get carbs in her. Proof she's no human.

After a few weeks, multiple trials, more errors than successes and a lot of tears, we seem to have found things she likes and will stay down. And, just last week, we started adding Pedialyte to her water which has definitely helped with her alertness. It's one of the most heartbreaking experiences I have ever had not being able to do anything to make it better.

What has helped her is her overall health, and that is in large part due to her lifetime of running. The vet who diagnosed her noted that she's in excellent health but for the genetic problem that can't be cured. So, there you go. It's one of those things where we did everything right, and it doesn't ultimately matter in terms of keeping her forever like we would if we could. (insert multiple naughty words here)

Our girl after an overnight receiving IV
fluids to help what she'd lost. The nerve
of not giving her a purple wrap. Just sayin'.

Elly has not just been my every day companion, but she most literally changed the trajectory of my own health and well being. She is the reason I ran in the first place, and she is the reason I continued in the beginning when I didn't want to. Running has been our thing. I didn't really even get to ease her out of it like I thought I would. I thought we'd earn that last, longer-distance medal and giggle a little while running two or three miles for the next couple of years. I'd be all, "Hey, Elly, remember when ..." and she'd glance sideways at me with her tongue out having no idea what I said but smiling in agreement just because she heard my voice. I pictured that we'd walk together. I pictured time to wind it backward from how far up we'd gone. 

Instead, it just -- ended. 

Going out to run anymore has, quite literally, lost a very big meaning for me. My heart aches when I step out the door, and it's something I work to get past while I'm out there.

I did manage to finish the recent Half Marathon ...

... and, I am as tired as I look. It was pretty rough. Training wasn't awesome as I missed a number of short runs, the humidity sucked, and I was emotionally spent. That saying about making sure you "leave it all on the route" crossed my mind en route which is the same time I said to myself, "Bullshit, I left it all on this past semester." The four weeks leading up to this run included Elly's diagnosis to punctuate a helluva few months. I was proud of the finish because, if predicting a finish by how January through May went, that finish should not have happened. 

So, here we are. The Half was a week ago (just a week ago?), and I took the week to recoup, start summer schedules with everyone and reset my own brain in terms of what I want to make of this running thing. It's hard to come up with a plan, though, as even thinking about it without a four-legged running pal just makes me ache.

Elly is to the point that she doesn't expect to leave the house with me. It's really sad for me even though I should probably feel comforted that it's not a priority for her anymore. She seems just fine about it. What do I know, but I think she's fine. I know she's happy to see me when I return. That's probably more important anyway. I try not to impose on her my own thoughts. I keep trying to remind myself she is a dog and doesn't process like humans.

It's not comforting, though. That's how it is when the human brain is more complex than the dog's ...

Elly's shift into what are clearly her twilight days has left an incredible hole in me. In no way is she ever, ever going to be replaced. That's not even possible. So, there's no reason to think that that's the idea when I introduce somebody tomorrow ...