Have the lymph nodes…shrunk?!

Update on my beloved Chip... and the rest of the pack.

Last night was not a good night of sleep. Chip woke me up a number of times with intense hacking, coughing, and wheezing.

He's been on a pin drop sized amount of FECO at night (so he can sleep through it while it does its thing) on top of the CBD/THC during the day (am and pm). I will say, his lymph nodes have - amazingly- shrunk in size! After 5 days of this. The coughing may be an offshoot of this with tumors actively shrinking? Will continue keeping an eye on this, and keeping the red light unit on him (it was on me, but is now on Raiyna at the moment).

Raiyna (my 14 yr old; the only female in the bunch) loves her boys, and has always been a bit of a "mama bear" to them. She doesn't like it when the pack is apart and won't rest or relax until everyone is together again. As an example, if Levi wants to be out back while everyone else is inside, or if I'm out front with Todd ~ allowing him to sniff his way around the short perimeter his condition has relegated him to~ she stands watch and waits until everyone is in home and together again, then goes to lay down and rest.

She's been incredibly lethargic as of late. Resting a lot more. Slower on walks. Less interested in things she used to love. A few days ago, she woke me up in the middle of the night vomiting... then did so again later that day. She also vomited yesterday on my bed... twice.

Levi's noticeably slowed down, too.... and just.... not himself.

For the first time in a very long time (if ever), they showed no interest in going for the afternoon pack walk yesterday. So they stayed behind, laying and soaking in the sun on the back deck.

Todd, with his dementia, is (so sweetly) oblivious.. and just living his moments... wandering and sleeping; and Franklin is... busy being Frank. His antics, I feel, do break through the heaviness and raise the energy of our space, though. He's such a silly little dude.

The symptoms and pains of my own health concerns have significantly intensified, no doubt due to all that's going on.

I'm doing my very best to try and "be normal". Carry on as I / we always have. Our routine, everything. Still trying to maintain my own personal fitness despite current limitations. Doing the very best I can to keep myself in a good place, be present for them, be present for my business and clients, and try to maintain some sort of "healthy" perspective... some sort of "emotional balance."

I jacked up my daily EFT practice, meditation, red light therapy, prayer (have always been a daily prayin' girl since I was a little Kim, though), maintaining doctor appointments (sick care), and ... writing. To be honest, the writing has been my saving grace. Expression, service, and purpose. Writing these posts, writing and developing different programs/ ways of being of service, doing the Dog Walking Meditations, writing the 3rd book ("The Human End of the Leash"), writing the 4th book ("The Hobby"), journaling at night before I go to bed... I'm trying to navigate and process all of this as best as I possibly can.

But, with all this "preparation" and "doing", nothing can really prepare someone for letting go of a piece of their heart. I have a fear that these pieces of my heart will be taken in waves; and not like a set of gentle waves with plenty of space in between... but like a tsunami of waves that hits all at once.

These guys (and gal) are my heart, my inspiration, my daily motivation, and my family. With the exception of Frank the Flying Hot Dog, they've been with me through getting over the trauma of losing Tucker the way I did, through the inception and development of PackFit... through so much. And I have a unique and special bond with each of them.

The first few times I've had to say goodbye to my beloved dogs, the decision was forced under different types of pressure (Lobo, https://www.packfit.net/lobos-story, the catalyst behind PackFit as a whole, our mission and approach; and Tucker- who redefined what "health care" looks like for dogs). They didn't have the luxury of aging with me. This isn't the case now. These dogs did, and we did the best we could along the way.

Chip, as they all have, never had the toxic, chemical flea/tick preventatives (that took Tucker's life). Ate a clean, biologically appropriate diet his whole life. Filtered water. Extreme minimal vaccinations (last was when he was a very young pup). Daily fresh air, plenty of exercise, leashed and wooded off-leash walks. Peaceful, safe living environment. Never exposed to chemical or toxic house cleaning agents, detergents, etc. (I don't use them). Of course, genetics will play into these types of things, and who knows to what extent. But we can up play and downplay genetics through lifestyle and health care (the every day choices we're making for them). The only thing I feel played into this is the fact the rescue he came from neutered him at 13 weeks of age. Ridiculously early, and long before his reproductive system was fully developed. I get the mindset behind it, and while it may serve "the greater good" to some degree (... but has it really?!), it absolutely does not serve the greater good of the individual dog.

I've been watching YouTube videos on how to prepare for saying goodbye, when to know it's time to say goodbye, what happens when dogs cross over... trying to "warm" myself up for making this decision. Trying to find some level of comfort. Some level of acceptance. Trying to embody the notion that "this is our final gift to the dog".... and, admittedly, I've got *so* much resistance to it. I can't say goodbye. It's so ... final. So permanent. So painful (for me, not for him). I understand the emotional attachment piece of this (yes, I see it), and also the fact it's a gift so they don't suffer. Intellectually, I "get" all of it. I also get it on a spiritual/ soulful level... where death really isn't "death", but a return home and to who they've always been and always will be. A rebirth. It's a transition and a "shedding" of the physical wardrobe, so to speak.

I'm doing my damnedest to rewire my thinking and reverse my thoughts about this (this is taking a LOT of work...and I don't seem to be making much headway). I'm trying to work through my emotions, as they're *really* impacting my physical state, as well (my hip pain has been the worst it's ever been consistently each day, the chest pain and heart palpitations have started back up - which are just really, really scary; I've lost my own energy, and my appetite is gone).

Again, I understand this is part of the package deal. Part of the unparalleled type of bond and relationship we enter into. The love. The adventure... the journey... the side-by-side evolution. The chapters in our book of life. I also understand these chapters eventually end and this book eventually comes to a close. I owe this crew the world...and really did my best to give it to them while they were with me (and continue to while they are still with me).

Anyways, this is where we are now. Taking it day by day. Trying to navigate (and process) this as best we can.