I trudged out the door this morning for my walk with K, full of high hopes that my flu symptoms might disappear after walking a bit.
Storm clouds loomed in all directions, reflecting how I felt. Alas, in stark contrast to me, K seemed happy and full of zip. She kept picking up sticks and requesting that I play with her.
She galloped through deep snow by choice.
And then she found yet another stick to try to pry out of the snow. This was a big one.
It was, most definitely, a good day for K. It's been almost two months since her diagnosis with osteosarcoma, and I feel like we've lived each day as fully and joyfully as possible.
Although walking didn't make me feel better, seeing K so happy made my heart sing.
Today, as I struggled with the flu, I thought about our canine friend, Lilly, who has been so gravely ill recently. She was struck with an inflammation of her entire nervous system, including her brain, and she spent many days in the hospital, barely able to move. Compared to how sick I feel, Lilly felt at least 100 times worse.
Lilly is home now but is still struggling to recover her full mobility and strength. To my eye, she's made incredible strides since her worst days but she still has a battle ahead of her. The good news is that she has a good chance at a full recovery and a normal happy life.
If you could go over to
Lilly's blog and give her a word or two of encouragement or even contribute to her
Chipin fund for vet bills, I'd be incredibly grateful. Your support has meant so much to me, and I think that it would mean as much to Lilly's human, Roxanne.
Like last night's blazing sunset light, support from friends can feel like a shining beacon in an otherwise dark world. I've learned this firsthand from all of you. Thank you.
