Cloud-based Hope

I was beyond worried about his prognosis. Nearly a decade ago, my terrier Rosie died of cancer; she was four years old—way too young—and I’ve never gotten over her death.

I rarely share my woes and worries online; it feels like a cheap request for instant attention, an insincere social supplication to garner likes or sad faces and “thoughts and prayers” comments. But this felt too big not to put out there. I couldn’t hold it in, or keep it together by myself. Even with the few humans around me who knew and cared about what was going on, I still felt like my emotional seams were stretched to bursting. 

Besides, so many of my online friends and followers are pet people. And pet people get it. You know exactly what I’m talking about, how it feels when tests are being done on your dog or cat or bird or gerbil. There’s more than the fear of the as-yet-to-be determined diagnosis, though that looms large enough to throw a shadow over the days leading up to the scheduled ultrasound or x-ray or bloodwork or biopsy. You feel that gut-wrenching tug when you hand the cat carrier over to the vet tech and he carries it gently through the doors to the back. Or when you walk with your dog next the tech so he feels the comfort of his human alongside him as he trustingly accompanies her to the cage where he’ll wait, and worry, and wonder. And you’ll go home to do the same, but you’ll be without each other to make it just a little bit more bearable.

We are tied to our pets; we feel their emotions, and they feel ours. So while you wait, you know your dog is scared. Your cat is huddled in a corner. It’s unfamiliar, loud, and good stuff never happens there.

That just makes everything that much more difficult. You can’t be there for them. You can’t explain what’s going on. You can’t tell them everything will be all right, even if you don’t believe it.

So, that day, after I dropped Jasper off,  the fear of cancer squeezing at my heart, imagining a scared and potentially very ill Jasper, I went online and shared some of what was going on with friends, family, and followers. 

And of course, they surrounded us with kind words and healing thoughts. It was as if there were a whole crowd of people waiting alongside me, all of whom knew what I—and Jasper—were going through. All of whom have been through it themselves. And who know they will go through it again. A community tied together by a common love of their pets, everyone one of them proudly wearing the labels of dog mom or cat daddy or gerbil lady and who know that we would do anything for these souls whom we’ve invited into our hearts and homes, and we do not care if others don’t get it or judge us for the fierce devotion we have for our non-human family.

That day, I couldn’t concentrate enough to work, so I brought a book outside to read, knowing that an escape into the printed word was my best chance to push the scary thoughts and terrifying feelings out of my head, and to make time pass until I could pick Jasper up and find out the results.

At one point while I was outside, I looked up, and seeing an interesting cloud formation, I snapped a quick picture. What I saw were clouds that looked like the head of a dog, with streaks of sun streaming outward—the photo at the top of this post.

It felt like it meant something, but I couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.

Later that day, I was beyond relieved to learn that all of Jasper’s tests came back negative. No cancer.

What joy looks like for a human and a dog. I was so happy to hear there were no tumors in Jasper’s abdomen or chest. He was happy to see me and overjoyed to be going home.

It wasn’t until a few days later that I looked at the photo again and saw two more cloud shapes I hadn’t noticed before. To the dog’s right and below is a shape that looks like a demon. But above the dog’s head is a heart. To me, it was as if the heart and the light were battling this demon.

An exhausted Jasper after his ultrasound. You can see the shaved belly.

Now I’m not a woo woo person, but I hoped—I really hoped—that it was a sign that Jasper would be okay. I didn’t share the photo then, because Jasper still needed to be tested for Addison’s disease, and if that turned out negative, then he’d need an ultrasound of his neck to see if there was anything wrong with the parathyroid glands—which could still be cancer.

So I waited. And took Jasper back for more tests. Two weeks ago, the ACTH test for Addison’s came back negative.

And last week, after the ultrasound of Jasper’s neck, we learned that he has nodules on both of his parathyroid glands. They’re small, and the vet is confident they’re not cancer. But they’re most likely what’s causing the elevated calcium levels.

Jasper after the ultrasound of his neck. For most of his test, Jasper needed to be given something to calm him down. My poor princess moose was just too stressed out by the procedures. Here, though, he’s happy to be home. In this picture, you can see where his neck was shaved.

It’s probably the best answer we could get. While we could take out the parathyroid glands, it’s tricky surgery, and the calcium isn’t high enough to be too concerning. So we wait. We test Jasper’s calcium again. As long as it stays low, we can continue in this holding pattern.

It was then that I posted the cloud picture, along with a little bit of the story behind it, and some thank yous to the people who were there beside me and Jasper, connected through the magic of the Facetube and the Twitter and the Insta.

But here’s the thing: among the comments I received was one from an Instagram follower named Courtney, who told me she didn’t see a demon in the clouds. Instead she saw an angel looking at the dog cloud and giving a thumbs up. “I can see the wings and even a halo,” she wrote. “Can you see it?”

Once Courtney pointed it out, there it was: a hidden angel.

Kind of like my online friends, fans and followers. Hidden angels in the ether of the interwebs. I just have to be open to letting them shine through.

You may also like: 

• Almost as Good as a Spa Day: Taking Your Cat to the Vet Doesn’t Have to Be Stressful
• My Cat Suddenly Started Drooling, So I Took Her to the Emergency Vet
• An AAHA Moment: How I Found the Best Vet for My Dogs and Cats
• My dog may have a kidney problem, and I have to come to terms with it
• Tucker, his kidneys and me: the continuing story