Much has happened since I alluded -but didn’t elaborate – to some significant changes on the horizon. Life has raced forward st breakneck speed threatening to overwhelm us.

The unexpected conversation was career-related. An opportunity to run my own plant again but with an international twist. It would have us going overseas on another expat adventure, kids and dog in tow. Who’d have thought we’d end up in Dubai. Again.

The problem of course – we’ve just bought a house, and at the time of discussion, possession was still weeks away. March 16th in fact. “Well…commute for a few weeks then” was the solution. We’d long said we wanted another expat posting, an opportunity to expose the kids to life, culture and perspectives different than theirs and their friends.  We started making plans, altering schedules, investigating schools and neighbourhoods.  We contacted “pet relocation specialists” and international movers.  Then it all stopped.  Corporate policy changes put everything on hold, our lives included.

We received an unexpected yet most welcome call from our exceptional realtor Lance Berrington.  Our possession date had moved up by more than a month.  As I write this, we are firmly ensconced in our place.  Our place.  Sure, things are scattered all over the place, I can’t find anything, there’s chaos in the kitchen where master electrician Trent Ellwood is bringing things up to code, my new garage is full of non-garage things as we yank out 40-year old basement carpets and try to figure out where it’s all going to go.  We’ve been so busy since we took possession we’ve hardly had time to enjoy it.

So busy.  So distracted.  It started with an infection.  A lingering infection that required antibiotics.  Then, as we scrambled about wondering about Dubai and worrying about the new house, we noticed the weight loss.  We attributed it to the chaos and stress the house was under as we floated around in no-man’s land packing for an unknown destination.  We felt certain that things would go back to normal once we settled…somewhere.  They haven’t.

Uneaten dinners, failing eyesight and finally the discovery of a lump changed everything.  The stunning growth of the lump in the space of 24 hours pushed alarm into panic.  The professionals confirmed our worst fears.  Our beloved Suka, house-monster, child-minder, food-vacuum, squirrel chaser and slobber-mouth extraordinaire has advanced, aggressive cancer.  She will not see her 8th birthday.  She may not see March.

I’m heartbroken.  Her last visit to the vet was so unsettling, so unpleasant for her, we’re not going to subject her to any more.  There will be no surgery and no chemo just lots of treats, lots of love and a general license to get away with murder.  When she’s no longer happy, we’ll help her move on.

When she was at the vet for the infection in November, we had a “general health” blood test done.  There was a voicemail on the phone telling us that the test showed nothing untoward, some high white blood cells counts but she’s fighting an infection.  Overall shes in good health.  This was the news we’d expected.  However – I wanted more for my $200 blood test than a 20 second voicemail so one day in late January I stopped by the vet’s office an picked up a copy of the results. I didn’t expect to glean anything from it, I just wanted something for my money.

I sat down and read the 4 or 5 pages at the kitchen table.  Columns of acronyms I couldn’t deduce matched to little graphs showing where the test levels landed.  Some high, some low, mostly normal.  The vet had only mentioned her creatine being “on the high side of normal” which, after her lecture against feeding Suka a raw food diet, was expected.  There were far more little red dots in the graphs, little “outside normal” results than she’d noted but I’m not a vet nor a doctor.  Finally I came to the lab summary.  High white cell count, oversized, mal-formed.  These were words I understood.  And then the summary.  “As you know, these results are consistent with a diagnosis of leukemia”.  I read it again.  And again.

I emailed the vet a restrained, albeit somewhat brusque query about the lab notes and the vet’s “in good health” message.  They responded quickly.  They stood by their diagnosis – it’s rare, she doesn’t have it, she’s fine, my favourite – this is what happens when a patient gets hold of the lab results.  They did offer to test her again, for a fee.  How…accommodating.

I wanted them to be right.  I willed them to be right.  I prayed they were right and I denied what was happening in front of me until it was no longer possible.  The speed at which it’s progressed is staggering.

Cancer.  I didn’t see that coming.