while ronan’s leg tumor was stable for months unbeknownst to us at some point he developed a lung tumor. on sunday his body could no longer compensate and he crashed and the only thing to do was to let him go. i’m thankful it was quick and he was peaceful. from our side it was sudden and shocking…as sudden and shocking as death can be with cancer. cancer is an asshole and ronan fought that foe valiantly by having a great quality of life for far longer than we could have hoped in the face of osteosarcoma. he was strong and brave and even at his last oncology appointment a week and a half ago his leg tumor had not grown, he had gained weight and he was pain-free…so for all that cancer can suck it. there’s a lot to say about ronan and his journey to us and with us but i’m not sure right now i can let it all out…right now my heart is hoarding what it can of ronan. what follows will have to do.
october would have been ronan’s four year anniversary with us and i was really hoping we would get there. that anniversary was particularly important to me because at that time he would have been with us for as long as he was anywhere and for ronan that felt especially important. by the time ronan came to us he was pretty emotionally bereft. his original family’s circumstances had changed and he ended up being neglected for quite a while before they decided to rehome him. he came to us a fairly aggressive, scared, empty shell and we all worked together daily to change that story.
it took a lot of time and a number of different therapies to finally make progress and thankfully at some point we found our way to biofeedback. once we saw the effect it had on him he had weekly sessions that changed his emotional well-being dramatically and gave us the gift of ronan. this is dave and ronan during one of his sessions (he took up a lot of the room)...
he was never an easy dog but his love was more than worth the work. in the last year he had a lightness and happiness about him that was palpable and good gravy was it glorious. he had this way of running at you with his head cocked to the side, an enormous grin on his face and very little ability to stop when he got to you. that’s how i’ll always remember him; a happy, loving, enormous oaf of a guy.
at the end i’m proud of who we were for him and to him and i am eternally grateful that ultimately he trusted us enough to let us in and he left this earth peaceful and absolutely adored. this will always be my favorite photo of us (although i cannot explain the size of my hand)...
our family has lost two enormous lives, both in presence and character, too close together and it remains to be seen where we all will fall. as a pack our dogs have been walloped and they are careening a bit…it will take time to right the ship and the dynamics will definitely be different. the shining light is we’ve got each other and we’re holding on tight to that.