A consultation With the Homeopathic Vet and the Dog Psychic

Yesterday was awful. We drove down to Potters Bar to consult the homeopathic vet. It took one and a half hours each way, which is disagreeable for the poor old boy. Still it was necessary. Vet was sympathetic and says he doesn’t know what the prognosis will be. But if the growth in his mouth is no worse in a month, there is a good chance Nutty will be able to live with it for a good while. If it gets worse, he will have to put him down I suppose. I can’t bear for my boy to suffer so it will break my heart but I will have to do it.

Vet prescribed a battery of homeopathic pills and tinctures, including colloidal silver, anti-tumour drops and pills, as well as extract of shitake mushroom, so at least I have a regime to follow, which makes me feel I can do something. He says surgery is not really an option. Nutty is too old and surgery would be painful. There is no guarantee operating would not kill him or that the cancer would not reappear.

Sara went through the same thing with her beloved dalmation and she was inconsolable. But six months later she is feeling better but then again, she has a very full life with three children, work, friends…. thank God I have Boyfriend on a Short Fuse. He has been foul recently but sweet as pie today.

Although I feel unsupported sometimes, at least I do have him. Imagine being single and having no family (I don’t really like to confide in eco-brother or teflon-dad, they are not very emotional and just don’t understand this sort of thing, but in an emergency I know they would be there). I have told one or two people but to be fair I haven’t really told many. I can’t face it just yet.

It separates the real friends from fair weather friends to be sure. I left a message with my old friend M, who I’ve recently got back in touch with after twenty (!) years. It’s been lovely to reconnect and we had a nice lunch together. I had to cancel our next lunch because the thought of showing my tear-stained face in public is too much. I actually called her mobile (she is another one who doesn’t like the telephone, relying exclusively on Facebook and text). I didn’t get a call back but received the predictable text a few days later sympathising with my plight. My handset is so ancient it deletes messages that are quite long so I didn’t even see half of it. I shan’t persevere, I can’t stay in touch with people who only want to text. Oddly enough texters always seem very keen to meet up whereas telephone people are just as happy to leave it for a while and stay in touch on the phone. Perhaps the texters are a bit starved of human contact. Personally a good natter on the phone is good enough for me most of the time.

Yesterday Boyfriend on a Short Fuse was so moody, I really thought about going it alone again. I think like this but then he miraculously improves, his mood lifts (helped that we made love this morning although I must say I have zero feeling in that department at the moment), and I think, yes, we do have a future.

It was lovely in the park this afternoon, bright, warm and sunny and the best day of the year so far. Nutty trotted towards me like Aslan emerging from the sun, the brightness like a halo around his beautiful tawny fur. Oh how I love him!

Earlier I was going through the vitamins in the kitchen cupboard (rather a lot – my flat so full of healthy potions it’s like the Mind Body and Spirit Exhibition). I picked up a large brown glass bottle of homeopathic pills I had bought in bulk to help with his stiff old joints and just cried and cried. I suppose he will have no more use of them now as his health concerns are so much more serious…. It’s the small things that bring a great lump to the throat.

We visited the psychic douser for more insights. She liked most of the supplements the vet had prescribed and did some healing. She said his kidneys are in a bad way as he is drinking so much water. But since the healing he has been drinking less so I am very hopeful. She said I looked tired. It’s true, I am shattered. Had a helpful session with A, the breath-guru, as he modestly describes himself. He is brilliant though and I felt so chilled after our session. I confided that I had been feeling so depressed I wanted to end it all, had even been on the Dignitas website. He insisted I did have strong reserves and must draw on them through my breath. `Choose Life’, he kept saying as we breathed, which I thought apt (after the Buddhist activity I did, also called Choose Life, based on the profound dialogues between Dr Ikeda and Dr Arnold Toynbee).  

As I  write, Boyfriend on a Short Fuse (see, he is useful), has just brought the dogs back from their late night walk. I hear the clip clop on wood as Nutty slowly and gingerly climbs up the stairs to find me and then nuzzles my hand in greeting. Now he is off to drink some water. Not unnatural amounts I hope.

I’ve been googling up rentals in Maui. When Nutty goes I have decided (although I keep changing my mind about where we should live), to move to Hawaii. S longing to go (so he says). I was thinking about buying a caravan in Camber Sands just for Nutty to have access to the outside at all times, but pyschic douser said he is very content in the flat. It’s a relief, he hates travelling and I hate to put him through long journeys. But I am keeping an open mind. Things change from day to day and my mind moves accordingly.

I thought we might have years left with Nutty. It’s such a shock. But at least he has lived a full life. Fifteen is a good long life for a Sheltie. Although not nearly long enough obviously. I thought he would live till twenty (especially after seeing the Youtube video of the twenty year old Sheltie). Sometimes I feel philisophical about it, but most of the time I just feel devastated.