Happy Birthday, Barney Boy!

Four years ago today, my little Sheltie made his way into this world. A little less than seven weeks later, he came home to live with Robert, Cotton, and me. He is my heart and soul!

Cotton was a big white fluffy puppy - just gorgeous. Don't shoot me, but I personally don't think Sheltie pups are some of the cutest around. They are a breed, in my own opinion, that are much more gorgeous after they become adults. All pups are cute, but Barney and other Shelties are not beautiful as puppies. In my opinion!

My mother came over shortly after I got Barney. By that time, his little looks had grown on me and I was thinking he was cuter than I did initially. His sweet, silly personality made you love and adore him and see a different puppy.

Mom, on the other hand, rounded the corner and saw him for the first time. She immediately declared that he was the ugliest little puppy she believed she'd ever seen. Poor little Barney! She was expecting a big fluffy ball of fur like Cotton, an American Eskimo Dog, was.

I saw a picture of Barney from his puppy days on Facebook this morning. I hope I can find it to post here because the poor boy was really gangly! The angle of the camera doesn't help! Little Man looks like he's all head and only a little bitty body! I just want to grab that little puppy up and give him a big hug now!!! A lot of my friends have new pups this year. Seeing them hasn't really made me want a puppy all that badly. Seeing pictures of my own Barney Boy from a few years back, though, is really giving me puppy fever!!! And lots of big, big smiles!

Barney has been through so much with me. I had only had him for three weeks when we learned that our three grandkids, aged 10 months, 3 years, and 8 years at that time, were coming to live with us. CPS had removed them from their home and, at least at first, it seemed Robert and I were going to become parents again until the kids were full grown. I only had one child when I was young ... getting three all of a sudden and under such circumstances was traumatic, to say the least. Poor little Barney didn't get nearly as much attention as he would have under different conditions.

Well, that's not entirely true. He got attention from the kids and from me ... but it was different attention than I envisioned when I got him. The good news is that he loves kids, especially the three grandsons, unequivocally. I'm sure that growing up with the kids influenced that love greatly.

But we missed some early training opportunities that I see my friends offer to their young pups. I'm not sure it really stunted him much though. He's well-behaved and a fine little agility dog.

The kids lived with us for 5-1/2 months before the judge allowed them to go back home. So much of my time and effort was focused on taking care of them that I feel like I missed Barney's puppyhood. I barely remember it. Those months are a daze in so many ways!

As soon as the kids got to go back home, Barney and I threw ourselves into training. Little Man was fabulous. If you asked it of him, he gave it. He still does. What a dog!

We started training every chance we got. We went out to the DAWG (Dallas Agility Working Group) field twice a week and one time a week, Barney was in pre-agility and then beginner agility classes. We both love agility and spending the time together. Cotton was along for the DAWG training. She loves agility, too. Sometimes. When it suits her!

As soon as he turned 18 months, Barney started competing in several different agility venues: USDAA, ASCA, and NADAC. We were gone nearly every weekend and, no matter the venue, the little guy turned in a stunning performance. He qualified in nearly every run he ran. We had so much fun. So.Much.Fun! We added AKC to our list of venues because there were a few weekends when we couldn't compete in our favored venues. Addicted to agility! That was me, for sure. And Barney loved every minute of it, too!

Then, in October 2012, the bottom fell out of my world. Forget the fact that I was competing in agility every weekend and going to class, by then, four times a week. Forget that I was happier and in better shape than I can remember being (other than being slightly overweight from having quit smoking and going through menopause without the benefits of hormone treatments). Cancer didn't care.

Barney, Cotton and I continued to go to class and trials while I underwent all sorts of tests and we waited to hear the final diagnosis. We even continued to go to class and trials after the word came that I had Stage IV lung cancer. But, once I started chemo, all bets were off.

I didn't have the stamina to go to class at night after working all day even when I wasn't sick, deathly sick, from the chemo treatments. If I wasn't nauseous, I was still so exhausted that asking my legs to carry me very short distances (like from the 15 feet or so from the couch to the refrigerator) was an accomplishment. As badly as I wanted to keep playing, it was physically and mentally impossible.

Well, nearly. Ed Scharringhausen holds Run As One NADAC agility trials in this area once a month except during the hottest months of the summer. He and his other half, Cathy, are as supportive of me and the challenges I face with this disease as any two people I know have been. Despite not going to class, Barney and I have managed to go, at least for a few hours, to quite a few Run as One trials since I was diagnosed with cancer. And little Barney just keeps on keeping on! We've reached a point on one of the events, Chances, where the dog has to work a great distance from you, that we are not going to qualify without more training. Otherwise, though, Barney is at least as likely to earn a qualifying score as not. He gives his all each and every time we step to the line.

But, Barney is more, so much more, than just my little agility teammate. I've posted this picture a time or two before, but in my mind's eye, it is how I see my little boy much of the time. I was so sick after one of my first chemo treatments. My boy was right there with me ... he has never before or since been so willing to stay with me (on me) for so long as he was during the time that I was the absolute sickest ... such a comforter!!!

I dearly love my Cotton Girl. One of these days, I'll give her a post! To go on and on about Barney doesn't diminish how much I adore Cotton, but she's a totally different dog than Barney. Barney is my caregiver and my little shadow. My sensitive, loving little man. I am, every single solitary day, so very grateful that Mr. Barney was brought into this world on February 7, 2010 and that he came home with me a few weeks later!

Happy birthday, Little Man!!! I hope we get to share many, many, MANY more together!!!!

Today is World Cancer Day

Did you see the Super Bowl Commercial that Chevrolet ran? They will donate $1 to the American Cancer Society for every person who goes purple on Facebook or Twitter today. Do it, please!!! It will only take a moment of your time and your dollar combined with those of thousands of others can really make a difference. http://www.chevrolet.com/purple-roads-world-cancer-day.html

The Chevy commercial really touched me. This woman is facing a cancer diagnosis ... and her husband is sharing in the pain. There are lots of diagnoses that would be heartbreaking to receive. The one I identify with is cancer. I think I will never forget the moment I learned I had lung cancer.

I was fairly certain by that point that I had cancer, though no one but me had ever uttered such a word in connection with the tests I was having. I was so hopeful that it would be nearly any kind of cancer but lung cancer. My dad died of lung cancer only six months of being diagnosed, despite a valiant effort to fight it. The stats for surviving lung cancer are just not good.

Of course, anyone who knows me or who follows this blog knows I didn't get my wish granted. I not only had lung cancer, I had Stage IV lung cancer that was inoperable. Radiation also wasn't an option. Chemotherapy was the only hope I was given. And the doctor wasn't all that confident it would prolong my life appreciably.

How do you describe the emotions you go through when you learn that your life may be nearly over? Just when life was kind of coming together. I was so involved. I had so many more friends and activities to pursue than I had for most of my adult life. I was having fun ... no ... F-U-N!!! Literally, the time of my life!

Cancer wasn't in the plans. At all. I had quit smoking five or six years previously. I was physically active. I ate decent. Cancer was for someone else, not me.

Things move quickly after you're diagnosed with cancer. You face it bravely, but you're still scared. And once you get that diagnosis, the fact that you have cancer sort of defines who you are from then on. Or, that's the case with me. It never leaves the forefront of my mind that I have cancer. I don't mean to say that it especially limits what I do because I try hard to make sure that isn't the case, but I still never really forget that I am in the fight of my life against a mighty foe. And I never forget that God is Good and He is Powerful. And by His grace, I'm still here and I still feel good and I am still able to do a whole lot of what I was able to do prior to that terrible day that I learned I had lung cancer.

When I watch the commercial, I imagine that the woman has learned recently that she has cancer. Maybe they are on their way to her first treatment or to tell her parents or kids that she's received a deadly diagnosis. So many difficult moments accompany the news that you have become a cancer statistic. You have to figure out the new road you're going to walk whether you want to or not ... and you wonder just exactly what it is going to entail. Talk about fear of the unknown!!

Is it going to hurt? Will I be deathly ill for my remaining days on this earth? What's going to happen to my family, to my dogs? Will my friends disappear? Will people be too uncomfortable to be around me? Will I be too uncomfortable to be around them? Will I lose my hair? Will I become a skeleton? What's it going to be like to face a deadly opponent? What does chemo feel like?

Here are some answers to those questions:

1. Lung cancer doesn't hurt. That's a problem with it. You have no clue you have it until it is so far gone that your chances of survival are greatly diminished.
2. Some of your friends do fall by the wayside, but others are right there for you every step of the way. You mourn the ones you "lost" and celebrate the ones who are strong enough and care enough to stick around.
3. I was lucky! My hair got thinner, but I didn't lose it. I purchased a wig and hats and all of the rest but by God's grace, I didn't have to use them. I'm really happy I didn't lose my hair - that would have been difficult. But it surely wouldn't have been the end of the world. I see some women who wear their bald heads with such pride ... my heart just swells with love when I see it.
4. I surely didn't become a skeleton. It never has seemed fair that I can go through chemo treatment after chemo treatment and still be bigger than ever before. But, I'd rather be a little chubby than way too thin. I don't look sick and I don't feel sick. 
5. Chemo doesn't hurt or burn or anything. It is boring ... the first treatments I got took 3-4 hours to administer. The ones I get now drip for an hour. Ho-hum. The after-effects can be awful though. I can't describe the fatigue or the nausea that accompanied my first chemo treatments. I think you have to experience them to understand them. I've tried to face this battle with good humor, but I have to say that I was starting to get quite depressed when I was on the first two courses of treatment. You would have chemo, be sick-sick-sick, and finally start to feel better just about the same time as it was time to go again for another treatment.

Every single day when I wake up, I praise God that I'm still here! I still feel good. I can still enjoy the activities I did before I was diagnosed with cancer.

Below is a video that was shot yesterday of my Sheltie, Barney, and I trying our luck at a NADAC Chances run. We did not earn a qualifying score (LOL, to say the least!!!), but we WERE successful! We were outside together with friends and we had a ton of fun. A far cry from the video above where the woman is looking out the window with so many fears and so much sadness.

I am fully aware that any day my cancer may take off and kill me quickly. I think that knowledge makes me enjoy each and every day far more than I would if my body hadn't been invaded by "evil cells." I try hard not to sweat the small stuff ... or even the big stuff. 

On the other hand, I tend NOT to make plans for too far into the future. There's a Gaither concert over the Memorial Day weekend that I would love to attend in Tennessee but I have been hesitant to get tickets ... it is a lot of money to spend if it turns out I am no longer able to make a trip like that. 

Here's the thing, though. Tomorrow is not promised to any of us. Car wrecks, heart attacks, the flu ... none of us know what tomorrow holds for us. A cancer diagnosis might make that fact a little more real, but ALL of us should live life as if tomorrow may not come. Be happy. Be strong. Live!