A lot of times I write about the complications that we face and endure in our "every day lives." We deal with so many things that we must deal with, we take on so many things that we are better served to "JUST SAY NO" to. We want very much to be right there for all of our family and all of our friends.
I must say I am blessed with such an amazing abundance of both.
Perspective comes from the craziest places.
As you may know, my best buddy and canine companion aka FURRY SON of 12 years, Geordie has been battling cancer for a while now. It hit my life like a freight train when the illness started to make itself known.
I was scared...well more like terrified and freaked out completely. I felt things I've never felt nor have since been able to find words for. I was also selfish. I did NOT want to DEAL with his surgery, his illness or anything related. Don't get me wrong! It was this simple: I didn't want our "LIFE" infected with this insidious disease! It was WRONG! NOT GEORDIE! Not "MY GEORDIE!" Once I realized crying was helping no one, especially Geordie, who is a FIXER, I realized I had to learn a few lessons...FAST.
The first lesson, and perhaps most difficult lesson I have learned is that it IS not a sin to ask for help. I learned to let my friend Heather HELP me when it was evident that I needed it. Sometimes, I was just clearly exhausted. I might have been doing something like sitting up in the night, just rubbing Geordie and talking to him when he was first diagnosed. I didn't want him to hurt, be scared or any of those things, yet it was completely out of my control. I don't do well with "out of control." *Note: if there is SOMEONE ELSE in need, I AM YOUR GIRL! That's the hypocrite in me! I'll do anything for anyone, but it's SO hard for me to ASK someone for help.
I am notorious for WITHDRAWING from things when I am at a loss. I tend to "go into my cave" and try to work things out in my head. So, the next lesson learned was that I had to MAKE myself TALK to others. Yes, he's just a dog, but he's MY DOG! He was given a grim diagnosis and I had no where to place it. I had to learn to at least attempt to let my family and friends be there with me and for me. A few weeks back, Marah had had enough of her mother being a cave dweller. She and Kevin drove home and (wow, she's an adult now!) she said,"Mom, I just had to come and see for myself that you're alright." That's MY daughter. She is amazing. She knew I wouldn't ask her to come and just "be with me."
I learned to pick up the phone and call my friend Flavel and talk about everything and nothing and eventually get around to "I'm scared Flav." You see, Flavel had been through cancer with a grim diagnosis with her beloved cat "M." She was always SO strong, but now I realize that maybe, just maybe, she was being a lot like me. Keeping the poker face on and feeling scared out of her wits. "M" has done AMAZINGLY well, underwent a very invasive surgery and continues to thrive and is a happy boy. I had that to look toward and focus on as well as Flavel reminding me that it was OK to feel everything I was feeling.
Another lesson? Keeping positive, even when hit with hard "medical facts" is absolutely the hardest thing I have ever done.
It's strange, when you find your life and something you love very much faced with the word "CANCER," everything changes. Seconds of the day become more precious. I found myself getting into bed, then getting right back up for one more hug and one more "I love you Geordie."
You find yourself peering into the eyes of a dog and telling him EVERY single thing that you love about him...and receiving that incredible look that only a dog can give that says, "I know."
I have learned that the future is NOW. Right now. Even as I type this at 4:53 am, I have to force myself to live very much like my Geordie, in the present.
I see clearly how dogs can be so forgiving. They don't live in yesterday. They make NO plans for tomorrow. They live in the "now." And they are HAPPY! They carry no guilt, no shame, no what-if's, no regrets. Those are human actions and emotions that we in fact, carry around with great pride sometimes. (Much to our own detriment.)
I have learned that I never KNEW I had so many friends! Of course, I "knew" I had a lot of friends that I have been so blessed with. They are the ones who have "served time" with Annie learning how I think I can do EVERYTHING myself and I would rather have a root canal than to say the words "I need help." Fortunately, I have very bright and observant friends who know me well enough to just say, "Get out of the way of yourself! I'm helping you." Those measures of "help" have come in SO many ways. Emails, phone calls, cards in the mail, gifts for Geordie, and the "HEY! Just checking on you" contacts that remind me not to go inward and to ALLOW my friends to love me. Then there is the ever popular "SHOWING UP" as our amazing neighbor Kim does... knowing full well if he called and asked he'd be met with, "Oh no! Don't go to any trouble! I'm FIIIIIINE!" Yeah right. I must be a pain a pill won't reach at times!
You see, Geordie DEPENDS on me, as do all of my other animals. He never has to wonder if I am going to feed him, if I am going to be able to determine "which bark" means he wants crushed ice or that he needs to go outside. He depends on me to observe
his behavior and help him when he needs it. It's funny. He NEVER minds asking me for help when he needs it.
How does that correlate here? How many times have my friends OBSERVED me and knew there was a need and as a HUMAN, I smiled and said, "I'm fine" knowing full well I wasn't fine and there was nothing FINE even remotely close to how I might have been feeling.
I am sorry for that, but again, I'm learning these things.
It has taken the serious illness of my beloved Geordie to teach me how to be a better person and friend. I've often said it "takes a friend to be a friend." I have friends like Martha Myers who are BUILT WITH TENACITY! She knows my ways and she's one who will shake me up when needed from time to time REMINDING ME that I'm not alone in this. Her gentle reminders are sometimes more like HORNS BLASTING to say, "HEY! I'm right here. Don't forget that! LET ME HELP YOU!" And I begrudgingly take my proverbial medicine from her and we laugh.
Today, when Heather and I returned from the North Carolina State University Veterinary Teaching Hospital, I was a zombie. Heather was completely wiped out as well. It had been a LONG and uncertain day. She had said she thought she'd need a cup of coffee to boost her home. I set about making our coffee. When I finished, I looked out the back door and there was our Heather...purple feed bucket in hand, feeding the goats, donkeys, dogs, etc. She was filling water troughs, and you know, she had the biggest smile on her face. She was doing MY CHORES and smiling about it.
Being "ANNIE,"I opened the door and yelled,"HEY! What are you doing? I CAN GET THAT!" (Because I can do everything in the world and then some in 30 minutes flat!) She ignored me and kept smiling and feeding. I think her only comment was "I've got it."
These are called "Blessings." They comfort. They give you a moment's reprieve when you LEAST expect it...and perhaps most importantly, it gives another human being the opportunity to be there for someone they love and care about.
I think of the times I was busy and Geordie walked up and nudged my hand and was met with "Just a minute boy, I'm busy." Geordie is persistent. He ALWAYS nudges again and again until I stop (sometimes with frustration) and ALLOW HIM TO LOVE ME. You see, those nudges are not intrusions at all! My Geordie came to say in his way "Thanks, I love you, I'm thinking of you, I appreciate you" or whatever else made HIM stop what he was doing to come find me and give me that familiar nudge.
Do I stop what I'm doing now for him? You bet I do. As I said earlier, hearing the word CANCER changes your life forever. I relish and welcome those blessed nudges now and EVERYTHING stops while Geordie says what he needs to to me with his eyes, his snuggles and his heart and his nose.
Seconds in this life are precious. Many times we do not get the second chance to do things correctly. We have to slow down and think like a dog...live in the moment. Make our choices and decisions as though we will never have that opportunity again, as we truly may not get the opportunity to set things straight.
Geordie has taught me to say what I feel, to let others know how I feel about them, to live in THIS moment and not put off the love that I can easily share RIGHT NOW.
I have concluded that to accept the love and help of others is NOT a sign of weakness! It is TRULY a sign of strength and courage beyond measure. It is a sign of TRUST to be able to put yourself right out there and allow yourself to "be loved"...just like a dog.
I have learned that "THE PRESENT" IS A PRESENT, A GIFT! Not something to get to tomorrow, to "save until it's the right time" or any other means of procrastinating.
This moment as I type this is the present. It's my present. I thank God for the opportunity to be here, right now, with everything that is going on my life---knowing I am so completely surrounded by LOVE of friends, of family, of even perfect strangers who have reached out and said, "I CARE."
I thank each and every one of you for being with Geordie and me through this trial. Your strength and love have helped more than you could ever know.
Today is a gift. Unwrap it with reckless abandon and LIVE IT!
BE A DOG FOR A DAY! Just LIVE IT! You just might find there's a lesson or two in there for you as well.
Thanks to all of you who love me and who love Geordie.
WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH!
Till next time,
Annie...and her greatest teacher, Geordie...who also taught me that mistakes are OK too!
Since it's now 5:52am, I'm not even going to proof read this post! Talk about living on the edge! WOW! (You see, I was DOING other things while writing this...feeding the cats, making coffee and checking on my number one buddy!) You can't proof read life, ahhh...if it were only that simple!

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I use this picture again and again of myself and my best friend Geordie. I figure he pretties the picture up considerably.
I have always been around dogs...lots of dogs. In fact, my first pet was on the scene before I was born. He was a Border Collie called Champ. Champ lived to the ripe old age of 17. My brother and I grew up with him.
Twelve years ago, Marah and I were on the search for a dog. She wanted a basset hound and the one we chose was not available when we went to get it. My eyes kept going back to an ad for "border collie puppies" and after the basset hound fell through, I called to inquire.
The lady said she had one pup left and they were going to keep him because he was the only red pup in the litter. Disappointed, I kept searching. The phone rang back in a short while and it was the lady with the border collie pup. She and her husband ran a sheep farm. She said the pup had a great disposition, but "didn't appear to want to work with the sheep" and they couldn't keep him. "He's full blooded," she said, "and you sounded like you really wanted him. Would $50 be too much?" I couldn't believe it! I accepted her kind offer and we had to wait 3 days to meet her near Franklin, TN. She was willing to deliver the puppy. At first sight, Marah said, "Mom! He's got eyes like Jordi in Star Trek!" And it stuck. I chose the spelling of Geordie because I liked it. Border Collies originated in an area on the border of Scotland and England. The folks who live there are called "Geordies." So, clearly, the name fit.
We have had 12 beautiful years with our faithful friend. He has experienced everything with us. As a puppy, when I had band rehearsals, he would lay in the floor of this great big room filled with musicians...and SLEEP! He romped and played with Marah, he rolled and tumbled with Wayne, and snuggled with us all when we needed extra love.
Geordie made his place in our family as "one of us."
Reality came crashing down recently as we had noticed that he was slowing down some. But then the next thing you know, he'd be running like a maniac, chasing goats, playing games with them and swimming in the pond. I just figured like any of us, as we age, we have great days and not so great days.
This past Saturday, Geordie had been with me to feed part of the livestock. It was hot, so I thought we'd do it in 2 feedings. I had been aware that the heat seemed to bother him more than usual. We came in and I started laundry. When that was done, I said, "Come on buddy! Let's go finish feeding." He didn't move. He just looked at me. I slapped my leg and said, "COME ON!" Nothing at all. No attempt to move. I realized something was wrong and it was bad. He seemed paralyzed. I called our vet and told her I was on my way with him. He could not stand or walk. I lifted him and carried him to my truck and we got to the vet. He was checked over and given IV fluids. There were a lot of nondescript symptoms. She gave me medicine for his heart because there appeared to be fluid and sent us home until Monday.
On Monday, we returned and xrays were taken. Geordie's heart was very enlarged, but the most shocking thing I have ever seen was that his abdomen was nearly full of a tumor! Things looked grim. The vet took the bloodwork and said she would call asap on Tuesday. With the catheter still in his leg, we came home. Wayne and I were terrified. What if this was Geordie's last night with us EVER? We didn't sleep a wink.
The vet called Tuesday morning, May 12, and said the bloodwork was surprisingly good. She added, "I've also had two surgery cancellations and I see this as a sign that we need to operate." She added, "It has to be soon." We knew what we had to do.
Trying to be strong, I rode in the back seat of Wayne's truck with Geordie. I held his head, stroked his back and told him over and over how much he means to us all and how we loved him. He was very still and very quiet. He barely moved. It was like he knew something was up and it was big.
Once we were at the vet, we were given plenty of time to be with Geordie while the surgical area was prepped. When the doctor came out, we all went into pre-op together and I asked if we could pray. Geordie was on the table and I knelt beside him. We were all in tears and we left our Geordie in the best hands possible.
The ride home was quiet. Wayne and I were numb. When we got home, I did EVERYTHING to keep busy. I even set about housework, trying to block negative thoughts as they tried to creep in. I HAVE TO STAY POSITIVE! I HAVE TO VISUALIZE HIM GETTING THROUGH THIS! Self-chastising helped pass my time as well.
When the call came, I said, "Wayne, I don't want to answer it. It's too soon! They can't be finished."
I finally answered the phone and one of the vet techs told me he was alive, he had come through the surgery and that the tumor was extremely large. The words "BOWLING BALL" and "LARGE CANTELOPE" had been used and she attested that indeed it was a frightening sight. The doctor later explained that the tumor was "angry" and that Geordie had precious little time before it actually 'blew.' She could not be sure that he would have made it to wait for surgery even one more day. He would have died a horrible death. I am so thankful that our vet followed her instincts and sent for us when she did, or this post might have been written from another sad perspective. I am certain that those two cancellations were indeed "THE SIGN" the vet spoke of and any loose cog in the wheel would have sent this story off on another track. In God's way and in God's time...we must be vigilant and listen in order to get the answers we seek in our prayers.
We were shocked to learn that if he improved as they felt he would, we could pick him up at 5:30 Tuesday evening! The doctor felt that Geordie would improve more quickly and respond better at home.
I figured I could vacuum and nearly have a clean house by then! Nerves are an excellent catalyst to getting your house clean! So, I worked like a maniac trying to pass the time.
When we arrived, the same vet tech who had called me earlier, came out and smiled. They had a surprise! Geordie WALKED OUT TO GREET US IN THE LOBBY! Tears flowed, he was groggy, but he WALKED to us! There were still a few things to be done, but we were welcomed to watch. They were busy removing the IV catheter, checking him over good and he was weighed.
Geordie had been weighing around 70 to 75 pounds in the past few months. By Monday, after the fluid removal, he was down to 60.5 pounds.
Today, after the tumor removal, he weighed a sleek 55.5 pounds. Our Geordie had been carrying a 5 pound tumor in his abdomen and as the doctor put it, kept it well hidden for a long time. He had several check ups prior to this episode and it simply didn't show up.
The point of this post? It's for me. I love that dog beyond words. He is my best friend. I'm sure anyone who reads this and has a pet can relate. Dogs have a way of marking a place in your heart that no one or nothing else can ever touch. It's theirs...and solely theirs.
My family swears I love Geordie more than them. And if I'm being a pain in the rear, I have been known to agree on that.
Geordie and I have shared EVERYTHING. He's the best secret keeper in the world. When we laugh, he's right there to romp all over us. When we celebrate, he's right in the middle of the celebration. When we cry, he's right there, sitting quietly, assuring us that things will be ok. He is our unwaivering, constant companion.
He is at home, surgery is over and now we wait for the pathology report. But he is alive and HOME. That is what is most important as I type this post.
Another interesting bit of Geordie info is that when we got Geordie as a pup, I had no idea until I looked at his papers that we share the same birth date. May 16 is OUR DAY.
God willing, we will share this birthday coming up in just a few days.
Having Geordie with me after this ordeal is the best gift I could ever dream of. Having Geordie in general is the best gift I could ever dream of.
Our pets are truly our friends. God gave us a means to have a loyal companion without all the messes that we humans make. Dogs keep things simple. They don't demand a thing and give more love that we can ever give back. They teach us how to TRULY forgive... and just forget! They don't hold grudges and even those poor souls that have been mistreated find a way to love again. We should all be like dogs in that way.
So, this is a post for me to pour my heart out, to rejoice and to celebrate my love for one very special dog, Geordie.
I love you boy and I'm so thankful you are back home with me tonight.
(I wonder how comfortable I'm going to be sleeping on his bed beside him tonight? I wouldn't have it any other way.)
Love your pets...and always remember just how much they love you.
Till next time,
Annie

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