I was hoping the only blog post I would write today would be one wishing Addison a happy birthday.  I know that when Addison reads this in 20 years, she’ll understand why, on her second birthday, I couldn’t focus to edit pictures of her eating her special “A” pancakes, playing at Gymboree, picking out her birthday toy or dancing around in her Halloween costume.  Addison is having a nice birthday.  We are celebrating her and all she is becoming.  The pictures and the stories are coming, they are, but not today.   The cloud hanging over this day is too dark to ignore.  Oliver’s vet called this morning to let us know the results of his biopsy.  Ollie has high-grade malignant lymphoma. 

When we first met Oliver he wasn’t supposed to be a permanent fixture in our lives.  We were supposed to give him a home for two weeks to free up room in one shelter before he was moved to another shelter.  Two weeks.  It was perfect timing; not long enough to get attached, and he would leave our home just days before we were going on vacation.  We were doing a good deed – helping a dog and the over crowded shelter – but not making any commitments.  After one day in our home, I knew that Oliver was meant to be a part of our family.  I don’t know how  but I knew that he belonged here with us.  

As soon as we could we inquired about adopting Oliver and were told he was promised to another shelter.  He may already be spoken for by someone else.  But, if we couldn’t have Oliver they would find us “one of the other dogs”.  That wasn’t an option for me.  I didn’t another dog, Oliver was the one.  I called my Dad very upset (after 2 days!) at the thought of having to give him up to an uncertain fate.  He could end up with some other family that I knew would be totally wrong for him.  My Dad started scheming with me, “Dog’s run away, you know,” he said.  That’s it!  If they try to take Oliver back I will say he ran away.  If they come looking for him, I will hide him!  I don’t know if it was the pregnancy hormones that inspired the insanity in me but I was 100% ready to carry out the runaway dog plan.  It all worked out with no deceit necessary.  My point, is that I knew Oliver was meant to be a part of our family for the rest of his life.  I never imagined that life would be so short.  I know dogs die.  I know that they will eventually break your heart.  But I was picturing a decade with Oliver.  I was picturing Oliver walking with me – and the little girl in my belly – to the bus stop.  I was picturing him sleeping on the floor next to her big girl bed.  I was making plans that are never going to happen. 

I’m trying to find the lesson in all of this.  I know this must be happening for a reason and I’m trying so hard to figure out why, but it’s not clear yet.   Thank you for all of your prayers.  Please continue to pray for our boy and for us; that we will have the clarity to always do what’s best for him.

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