A Win and a Terrible Loss

2020 International Book Awards

It was my hope to have posted this last Sunday. However, I ran into major WordPress troubles so this is as soon as I was able.

I find it hard to write during this pandemic. My heart and mind so focused on what is happening in this country. More importantly, taking care of my family. Taking care of my husband and my three dogs, Bodhi, Leela and Nestor.

It hasn’t been conducive to talking with the dead as I am constantly filled with anxiety over what is transpiring. Hard for me to hear the angels through all the din. So, my writings might be sporadic for a while. However, I wanted to share two things with you.

First, my new book Could Anthony Newley Be My Muse? (Or His Story Never Ends) – Forging a Creative Bond with the Dead, was just named a finalist in the International Book Awards New Age Non-Fiction category. Considering that the winner was from a traditional publisher, I think this self-published book stood up pretty well. So, it was a bright spot on a rather dark horizon.

Nestor, July2 2020

More importantly is the death of one of my dogs, Nestor. I was managing about as well as one could during this time of unspeakable national and worldwide trauma until on Memorial Day weekend Nestor sat up on the bed, fell over and began having a Grand Mal seizure. It was only four years ago on Memorial Day weekend that we rescued Nestor. Now this.

I rushed him to the emergency room, handed him over to the vet tech and sat in my car (most vets are only offering curbside service) for the next four hours after signing permission to do CPR to revive him if necessary.

It should be interjected here that quite unexpectedly, Tony reached out to me, made his presence known, just before Nestor began to seize. I haven’t been in the quiet place necessary to communicate with him, but there he was. In hindsight, I think he wanted to give me a heads up, that something awful was going to happen and that he would be there for me, with my angelic team of teachers and guides. I felt them again as I waited, minutes turning into hours, waiting to hear from the vet what was happening with my Nestor.

We spent a good part of the weekend going back to that emergency hospital. In 40 hours, Nestor suffered 7 Grand Mal seizures and cluster after cluster of focal seizures. Reaching out to my alternative vet, I tried homeopathy at first but it became unmistakably clear that was not going to help what I was told was either a brain tumor or a brain lesion in a dog 12 ½ years old. Without an MRI, it was a best guess. The nearest facility that did MRIs for dogs is up in Richmond, VA which was at the time not only a hot spot for Covid-19 but also in the midst of the George Floyd protests. On top of the fact that Nestor would be required to be anesthetized for the procedure and any following radiation treatments or brain surgery. That would give him a few more months but at what cost to quality of life? My little boy had experienced enough trauma in his life, we weren’t going to put him through more. So, I called our veterinary hospice. They were wonderful.

We had six and a half weeks to get used (as if one could) to the idea what we were going to lose Nestor. The medications hospice put Nestor on assured that he would have no further seizures but the damage to his brain was severe.

Nestor was just beginning to learn to play. Just learning that it was safe here with us and no one would ever throw him away ever again. He was blossoming and I couldn’t wait to see how that would unfold next. It just wasn’t enough time with Nestor. Not nearly enough.

July 8, 2020, I held Nestor in my arms while the hospice vet helped him cross the rainbow bridge. My husband and I are devastated. My others dogs are grieving too – not wanting to eat. Its funny…no, it’s not…but I have been at the bedside of so many people during their journey into the afterlife…but to lose a furry family member brings me to my knees. I can handle the pandemic; I can handle all the challenges being thrown at us daily but I cannot handle the death of my Nestor…our Nestor. It’s too much.

So, it might be a while for me to be able to write more.

Stay safe. Try to stay sane. Until next time…