In Memory

I learned this week that a high school classmate passed away. The funeral was this morning in Colorado. I sit here now, hours after he was laid to rest, collecting the thoughts and feelings that have been swirling in my mind and heart all week.

It's always a shock when someone so young is lost; we can't fathom how something so terrible could happen. Jon was a person full of life, living his dream, and on the cusp of starting a new chapter with a new love and family.

We were friends back in the day. The past 20 years I'd not seen him much, but had reconnected the past several years on Facebook, like so many classmates have. Sharing of photos and a few chats here and there have been my main connection to him in our adult lives. His posts reflected positivity; his photos full of his adventures in the mountains he loved. He was a person I truly enjoyed keeping in touch with, and admired for his obvious love of people and community as well as his dedication to fulfilling a dream and living life to the fullest.  Jon touched many lives, which has become apparent by the outpouring of grief and compassion by our high school community in the wake of his death. He had a warm smile (given readily), a love of the outdoors, good looks, intelligence, an appreciation of music and the arts,  a goofy sense of humor, and a gift for making people feel comfortable. His light will be greatly missed in this world.

This week I've turned to my memories to get me through. As I reminisced, I realized that I have some very singular memories of Jon that are frequently brought to mind as I go about my days. These memories are his legacy in my life. Here are two of my very favorites...

This is an unlikely pleasant memory, but one I cherish. Jon and I were part of a contingent of high school juniors and seniors who went on a Close-Up trip to Washington, D.C. for a week. The trip there was my first plane ride. Needless to say, my stomach did not agree with the flight. Jon was sitting next to me, and as I repeatedly hit the barf bag, he was appropriately concerned while simultaneously cracking jokes. It's such an encapsulation of who he was as a person, and it makes me smile every time. The whole trip itself is also a source of good memories.

My absolute favorite memory of Jon happened the summer before our sophomore year of high school, just before school started. I was at a sleepover with a bunch of girls, and Jon and our friend Jason came by. I was feeling down about a recent breakup and they stuck me in the back of a minivan (I think Jason was driving, but not sure), and we drove around for a bit. I was sitting in the backseat in my ESLEEP pajamas (remember those baseball jersey/boxer sets?), listening to those two loveable idiots screeching out the words to The Police's "Roxanne" and completely cracking up. It is a memory I recall every time I hear that song, and plenty of other times in between. I had so much fun with those two during our high school years.

I saw Jon a few times during college, but hadn't seen him much since then. As I think about his passing I lament that I didn't have the opportunity to know him better as an adult. I feel profound sadness for this loss but I know so many others close to him are grieving so deeply.  The only thing we have left are memories, but damn if they aren't some good ones. He had that effect on people. I wish it was something he had seen in himself, that would have turned him from the terrible, heartbreaking decision he made.

Jon's inscription in my junior yearbook reminds me that he always had this dream of living out West, and he worked hard to make it come true.

I only wish we'd had more time, and that I had been able to see him there, if only for a visit.

I hope you have found peace, friend. We are still working on it.

Family Affair

Got some good shots of ALL the birds tonight!

(click on photos to enlarge)

Peek-a-boo, I see you too mama!

Twinsies!

Did you hear that?

Dad was nearby too, sounding the alarm about the weird human laying in the yard taking photos.

Hello, Little Chick!

We have a baby hawk! Just one, as far as we can tell.

We had lost hope that we had any eggs left in our hawk's nest. In late June, the adults were still around, but not sitting on the nest and we couldn't see anything in there anymore. Today Husband said he saw something, and sure enough it was a fluffy white head!

Mom (or Dad) was nearby and squawking plenty as I roamed around the yard to get a few shots. This helped us finally get a good look at one of the adults.

Looking forward to seeing the little one grow!

Backyard Resident

I can't think of a better reason to break blog silence than to tell you about a new resident to our backyard.

For a few years we've observed hawks in our neighborhood, and recently have been hearing some out-of-the-ordinary bird noises. On May 2, Lucy and I were playing soccer in the backyard  and saw a hawk swoop above us and land in one of our trees. After some closer inspection, it appeared to be sitting on a branch next to a nest, or at least a good start to one. A couple more days of watching, and we observed a pair of hawks, and witnessed the bird(s) carrying sticks to add to the sculpture. Definitely some nest-building going on!

After consulting some reputable websites, we suspected that what we had was a Broad-winged Hawk. We sort of got a look at it, but the key was the very distinct call. Through our research we've learned that Broad-wingeds don't usually nest close to humans, so we're very honored this pair chose our Silver Maple!

The past few days one of the birds has been sitting on the nest quite regularly, so we suspect there may be a few eggs. There's quite a racket when one of them is hungry or needs a break from all that sitting. The incubation period is 28-31 days, and while we're not sure exactly when any eggs were laid, we suspect it was within the past week...so we might get a glimpse of some chicks in 3 weeks or so! We're having fun watching them, and have a decent view of the nest from our deck (click on photos to enlarge).

A flurry mid-flight! This was in the nest-building phase. 5-2-15.

Here you can see the banding on the tail,
which provides further confirmation this is a Broad-winged Hawk. 5-3-15. 

Do you spy something looking at me? 5-20-15.

Anyone out there hatch hawks in your backyard? Any tips?

Buddy Love

This is Buddy.

He's been with us for about 6.5 years, and on this earth for about 8. If you count in dog years, he's older than anyone else in this house by a fair margin.

Buddy has been here in the thick of things. For awhile, it was just the three of us - Buddy, me, and Husband. He formed a fast bond with Brandon from the weekends he was here, and later when he was here all the time. He was here to greet Lucy the day we brought her home (gave her a big 'ol sniff while she was sitting in her car seat in the driveway). Over the years he has gone from tolerating her to forming a bond with her, too. He takes her bossing like a champ!

Buddy is pretty gentle. He rarely barks. The most noise he makes is when he bays at sirens, which is hilarious. He likes to be by his people but doesn't really like to cuddle - he'd rather roll over and let you scratch his belly. He gets a little too friendly with guests sometimes, but his soulful brown eyes usually win them over.

Over Thanksgiving, I had Buddy boarded at our vet's office because he had a lump on his belly that I wanted checked out. While they were at it, I asked them to check a bump on his neck, too. I'd had him in for that particular bump a few months prior, and it was diagnosed as an allergic reaction.

When I went to pick him up from boarding, I knew something was wrong. The staff, who love him and are always very friendly, were unusually quiet. The doctor wanted to talk to me in an exam room.

The lump on his belly is just a fatty mass, she said. No problem, lots of older dogs get them. The thing on his neck...that was called a mast cell tumor. Cancer. Surgery would be needed to understand its stage and if it had spread.

I held it together while I was there, because Lucy was with me. We collected Buddy and headed home. When I told Husband, I lost it a little bit. I wasn't ready to lose our dog.

We scheduled the surgery, and in the meantime I had all but convinced myself he was fine. He seemed perfectly normal. As the day approached, however, I grew more anxious. I did alright dropping him off, but picking him up was not easy. He was groggy and pretty out of it, and had a sad looking bandage on his head because they couldn't get the "cone of shame" on him - he freaked out. They sent us home with 2 painkillers and a sedative, and said "try again tomorrow."

When I brought him home, Lucy helped it sink in. She was very concerned when she got a peek at his incision, which was kind of Frankenstein-ish, I have to admit. As we sat on the floor petting him while he was so obviously disoriented and drugged up, I looked over at her and saw big tears running down her face. "I don't like Buddy to be like this," she said. "I don't either, Honey," I told her, as my eyes filled, too.

The following day, I worked from home to keep an eye on him. Even on the highest dose of sedatives, he wouldn't get near me if I was holding that damn cone. I had Husband try to help when he was home for lunch. No dice. That dog became a bucking bronco if I even l laid my hand on the cone. The bandage wasn't staying up, and wouldn't keep him from scratching at the stitches. We needed another alternative. Enter the donut.

He is tolerating it, and it does keep him from scratching. But he's definitely not thrilled.

Friday, I got the call that the labs were back. The tumor was a Stage 2 out of 3, so what they call "intermediate." The extra tissue they took all around the tumor was clean, but usually for Stage 2 the next step is to biopsy a nearby lymph node. We had already done that, and the lymph node was also clean. So for the moment, our puppy is cancer-free! However, the Stage 2 diagnosis does make it more likely for the cancer to reoccur. Also, any other bumps we find (anywhere on his body), need to be checked right away, because now he has a history.

What a relief. This whole experience has made me really face the reality that one day we'll have to say goodbye to our furry baby. It will break Lucy's heart, and I dread that day. But it will also break mine. He is my first dog, too. It's true what they say that dogs become part of the family. It would just be pretty boring around here without our pup, so I'm glad cancer has seen fit to leave him alone for now.

He is recovering fine so far and doesn't seem to be too bothered by pain. The biggest challenge we've had aside from the cone situation is some doggy diarrhea from one of the meds, which hasn't been fun for any of us (I can attest to this personally, based on the pleasure of a 4AM clean-up). Today, he bayed at some sirens and I got tears in my eyes laughing at him. "That's my boy!" I told him. It was the most normal I've seen him since Tuesday.

Bay on, Bud.