Thursday evening

Another mammogram out of the way. Results fine. Bone scan apparently indicates I have whatever the preliminary to osteoporosis is, so I guess I do need to try to take calcium and vitamin D. At any rate, these are issues that are much easier to deal with than those I faced at this time last year. I realized the other day that I had reached a one year anniversary of the first chemo. I remember how petrified I was. Recalling those feelings in turn recalls all the love, support, compassion and kindness of so many friends and family members that supported me - without each of you I would not have made it through those first dark difficult days, and all the others that followed. I am a lucky human being.

On another front, a strange development. David and I have been missing Jessie so much, herself specifically, and as a representative of all loyal, loving dog friends who make themselves so "present" in the lives they are called on to share. And without any real intention of taking any action, I began a few days ago looking on line at dogs available for adoption in CT. (That's how I first found Jessie - on line under the heading "Urgent!".) And one little dog face struck me some how. A day or so later I sent an email to the contact for this dog, just asking how old the dog was with no intention of anything further. Turns out this dog - who is now called Ella - has a deep story. She is about a year old, some sort of shepherd-mix, tan, a big girl but not huge. She was rescued by an organization called Connecticut Underhound Railroad (I kid you not) from a shelter in Missouri where she was to be killed within a day or so, or even hours. Someone there contacted this organization in CT (as well as dozens of other rescue organizations around the country). Even though the organization here had never rescued any dog from the midwest (they work with "high kill" shelters in the South), something about this particular dog struck the woman who received the email. And one thing led to another. The woman here committed to the volunteer in Missouri to figuring out how to get the dog from Missouri to Maine (where the woman lives). The woman in Missouri arranged to board the dog somewhere in Missouri in the meantime. It took a month or more for the woman here to arrange transportation to bring the dog to Maine (where the woman lives) and a little longer to find a place in Maine to "foster" the dog - a "doggie day care center." Then the organization posted Ella's picture on line as available for adoption, a few weeks ago, I think. And this week, I saw it.

Now David and I may meet Ella this weekend - if arrangements to bring her from Maine can be worked out - and "foster" her for a week or so to see if she likes us and we like her and even might want to adopt her long term. In a way it seems too soon after losing Jessie. In another way, it feels like something that just is supposed to be happening. Even if we decide this is not the dog for us long term, perhaps we will keep her as a "foster" dog for a while. I have to think, that Jessie would approve of us helping another dog in any way, short or long term.

So very many dogs, treated like disposable toys, discarded for any or no reason than convenience. Of course in a world in which human beings treat other human beings - even children - as disposable, how can I be surprised that some would treat "mere" creatures the same and worse. Perhaps one day dogs will evolve (while we humans are still yelling at each other on MSNBC and Fox News) and learn to speak for themselves and rise up, seek justice. They can only improve this world, and I for one will be happy to hand it over to them, to the loyalty, commitment and love they embody every day. Perhaps if I learn to evolve some more myself, one of them will consider me to be "adoptable."

Peace. Kindness and compassion to all creatures, including little Ella.