We dropped Feebs at the vet’s office at 8:30 AM this morning. I have to tell you I was having serious doubts about whether we had made the right decision and it was really hard to walk out the door knowing she had no idea what was about to happen.Continue reading
Phoebe’s amputation has been scheduled for July 23.
I’m anticipating I won’t have a lot of extra time in the weeks after Phoebe’s amputation, so I’ve been in a cleaning frenzy today. It still looks like Hurricane Helga went through the house, but it’s improving.Continue reading
I have my legs back under me where they belong, pardon the pun. After a long chat with our vet, I’m convinced that giving Phoebe a chance to live the rest of her life as a tripawd is the only clear choice.Continue reading
The reality of Phoebe’s cancer has sunk in and I now know we don’t have time on our side. Canine osteosarcoma is an aggressive, fast growing cancer. If it spreads to her lungs, we’re done.Continue reading
We’ve always assumed we’ll live longer than our pets. It’s just the natural order of things. But we also hope with all our hearts that they’ll live out their full canine lives happy and painless.
And when you least expect it, someone drops the C-bomb. Our Leonberger Phoebe has been diagnosed with canine osteosarcoma in her left metatarsus.
Gone From My Sight
by Henry Van Dyke
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says, “There, she is gone.”
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me — not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, “There, she is gone,”
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!”
And that is dying…
Eunice A. Adams, quietly slipped away March 11, 2015, after a brief illness with her family at her side. She is now soaring with Eagles. Born August 4, 1924, she lived a long, beautiful life of 90 years.
She was a Proud member of the Upper Mattaponi Indian Tribe all her life. Her father, Jasper, was the Chief 50+ years. She served as Secretary of the tribe for many years. She was retired from Norshipco after 28 years. Her joy was being a Wife to Moses, and Mother to her son, James S. “Jimmy” Adams. She then became the BEST Grandma to her grandchildren: Aaron, Jason, Jesse and Hunter. She had 3 great grandchildren: Donovan, Samantha and Whitney.
She spent many years in her volunteer work and clubs such as the Alpha Iota Sorority, and the Pilot Club. She was a member of The Chesapeake General Auxiliary. She was voted Woman of Chesapeake in 1988.
She was predeceased by her parents, Jasper and Molly Adams; her husband, Moses and all of her siblings.
She leaves behind her son, Jimmy and his wife Karen; all of her grandchildren, great grandchildren and a host of nieces, nephews, cousins and neighbors whom she dearly loved. Family was a very important part of Eunice’s life. If there was a family get-together, you know you’d find Eunice in the middle. In lieu of flowers, please make donations to Upper Mattaponi Culture Center.
Visitation will be held at Hollomon-Brown Funeral Home, Indian River Chapel from 2 to 4 p.m. on Saturday, March 14, 2015, and at B.W. White Funeral Home, Aylette, VA from 2 to 4 p.m. on Sunday, March 15, 2015. Funeral service will be held at Indian View Baptist Church in King William, VA at 1 p.m. on Monday, March 16, 2015. Condolences may be offered to the family at http://www.hollomon-brown.com/obituary?id=1490413.
Flexible and tolerant, they take a pragmatic approach focused on immediate results. Theories and conceptual explanations bore them – they want to act energetically to solve the problem. Focus on the here-and-now, spontaneous, enjoy each moment that they can be active with others. Enjoy material comforts and style. Learn best through doing.
My Mom ate white bread, cooked with real fat and would have probably assumed that a place with the name Whole Foods was a farm stand. And while she was a little bit nuts when she died at the young age of 92, we’d be lucky to be half as healthy as she was. I seriously doubt she ever tasted whole wheat bread, much less a substitute for it. I do remember she once bought a jar of Oil of Olay, but gave it away something like 10 years later unused. And if you dared to Namaste her, she’d probably be tempted to smack you for sassing.