Time stands still, time moves on

I’ve rewritten this post four times. I think it’s just time to publish it.

Last week, I got an email from Monica, subject: Ruben. Monica (and Bruce) are the wonderful couple in western NY with whom I placed Reu, my too-much-dog five year old gordon setter in the fall of 2004. Monica started her email by saying she’d hoped she’d never have to write me this news.

It was also a sentence I never wanted to read. Heck, six years ago I never thought I’d be alive to read it; who worried that I’d be around? Not me. I was more worried that I wouldn’t be around. That was why I re-homed Reu in the first place. In 2004 Reu was an active, hard-charging 85-lb. Gordon who needed a full-time job. On chemo days, I could barely hold onto him. A researcher I work with took him into her home during my first 12 chemo infusions – where her family called him ‘Hurricane Reuben.’

I knew in mid-summer 2004, after Dr. Personality declared me inoperable, that I needed to find a new, working home for my big guy. As much as it tore me apart, I told my dog friends and I put out the word that a five-year-old started Gordon setter was available for rehoming. I contacted the breeder - a novice who didn’t acknowlege my letter or emails or phone messages. I talked with the stud dog’s breeder, long-time friends about an hour away. I knew that Reu would always have a home with them, but since their main focus is conformation and I was the obedience/agility connection, Reu wouldn’t really be challenged in their kennel. They’d be doing the right thing, but it might not be the right thing for my guy.

And then an agility friend introduced me to Bruce and Monica – fellow agility competitors from western New York. Bruce had always wanted a male Gordon but Monica was reluctant to start a male puppy. They came to meet me and Reu at our campsite during the Wine Country Circuit that September – and then, they came back with all three of their Gordon bitches. The dogs got along. Reu took to Bruce like he’d found his next best friend. And he was (to my surprise) immediately gentle with Monica, who has multiple sclerosis (MS) and met him from her electric wheelchair. I could tell before the weekend ended that Monica and Bruce were good people, the right people.

We made an agreement, and two weeks later, Reu went home to western New York with Bruce. I had trained him in Rally and entered him in the AKC’s first Rally trials in Rochester NY on New Year’s Eve/Day 2005. Monica showed him to his Rally Novice (RN) title, making him the first Gordon setter in the country to earn the RN. That trial was our first reunion – and while my crazy puppy was glad to see me, he was also attentive to the sound of Monica’s wheelchair and to Bruce’s voice. The dog who once had been mine now had new bonds, new people, and a new focus in his life. And he was happy and productive. And I knew he was home where he belonged.

That’s the kind of rehoming transition that every trainer and rescuer and breeder hopes to reach when placing a dog…the dog who still hugs you but is looking for his new family. They sent me pictures and portraits and news, as Reu earned first his Novice Preferred title in agility, and then his Novice standard and jumpers titles. I still have the blue glass trophy plate Bruce brought home from the Gordon Setter Club of America national specialty, where Reu finished his NAJ. I know every day, every moment, in every part of my being, that I made the best decision for both Reu and I, and that he’s had for these last five years a far better life than he would have had nursing me through three surgeries and five chemo regimens.

But while I seem to have cheated time and survived longer than anyone in 2004 could have believed, time has moved on for Reu. In another six weeks, he’ll turn 11. And according to Monica, his next birthday is not a guarantee. She was writing to tell me that our boy has a sarcoma on his spleen, and that he’s not, in the estimation of their vet, a surgical candidate. On medication, he is (in her words) ‘acting more like his old self.’ But time will move on and the sarcoma will not stand still, or go away. Our boy doesn’t have very much more time, but the vet assured Monica and Bruce that on medication, he’s not in any pain.

No matter how much we care for our dogs, we cannot make their time – or our own – stand still. They won’t be either crazy puppies or strong adult dogs forever. All we can do is hug them and help them to meet their time without pain or distress. But as I re-read the email, as I have each day, I can’t help but realize that a part of my life, the part where I owned a crazy wonderful special setter, is changing again. And the next email will remind me that time moves on, but survivors leave too many friends behind. 

And there is just never enough time.

Feb 22, 2010

• Posted by PAS
• 6 comments
• dogs, survivorship
• Gordon Setter, senior dogs

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