TL;DR: My dog has cancer 🙁 If you’d like to help, please check out these options.
Shortly after I made my post announcing how I was embarking on a summer of adventure and spiritual reawakening, I received some devastating news. My beloved dog Rusty (Sir Rustopher Boofington Franklin) has an inoperable malignant tumor in his skull, located in his upper palate, under his left eye, and pushing into his nasal cavity. It has already started to affect his quality of life—we found the tumor because it had caused dental problems, as well as sinus issues (you don’t want the details). Thankfully, at the moment, aside from being a little congested, a little nauseous from swallowing a lot of that congestion, and a little tender in his mouth, our boy is not in too much discomfort yet. However, if the tumor gets any bigger, he could start getting chronic headaches, go blind in one eye, lose his sense of smell, and possibly even begin experiencing neurological problems.
If you follow me on Instagram, you may already know the plan from here. We are pursuing stereotactic (aggressive) radiation therapy with the hope of killing the tumor and preventing it from growing. Because it is a bone tumor, we’ve been told not to expect it to shrink, only stop growing. However, I remain optimistic, maybe delusionally so. My experience with oncologists is that they have to speak to you in worse-case scenarios and lower-end statistics, but in reality the range of experiences among patients is broad. And cancer is a weird disease. Some people experience “miracle healings” and some people don’t get even the lower end of the positive statistics.
Don’t worry—I’m still dealing with the facts, the possibilities, the overwhelming number of decisions I’ve had to make and will still need to make (on behalf of someone I love who can’t tell me what they want, and who I can’t really inform about what’s happening). I’m processing my fear, and grief, and everything else. I think I’m doing a good job, actually. This time last year I don’t know how I would have handled this. But in some miracle of a balancing act, I’ve managed to (so far, at least) both face reality while accepting that grief may be coming for me in the near future, and steadily grow into a sturdy, optimistic state. Yes, taking him for his CT scan at Cornell the other week was harder than I expected. Yes, there was more grief that needed to be felt, and grief still seems to come up every day. But two things can be true at once: I feel sad thinking about the situation and what might happen, but I remain hopeful that the best possible outcome will happen.
This has been a challenge, I will admit. There are a number of things I’ve been staying optimistic about when in reality I have no guarantees about them. It wasn’t too difficult when it was one, two, or even three things I needed to keep the faith on. But this new item, so deeply outside of my control aside from treatment options, finally rocked the boat and let my anxiety slosh in, carrying with it anxieties I hadn’t even known were lurking in my lizard brain. Will I ever publish another book? Will I run out of money and have to get another job and risk all the progress I’ve made with my health? Will my elderly cats take a turn for the worse? Will other people I love get sick or die? Is the book I’m writing stupid? Will anything I ever write be as good as The Wilderness of Girls or did I Citizen Cane myself? Is the world going to end? Is the US going to implode? Is my beloved dog, my actual son, going to die soon? Is it my fault? Have I made nothing but bad choices the past two years? 13 years? My whole life?
Ah, anxiety. My old frenemy. There’s not much to do about it but let it speak, sometimes—and let myself feel bad. But I’m proud to say I’ve worked hard over the years to be able to, eventually, sit my anxiety down and say, “hey. I know this sucks, and you’re scared, and there are a lot of things you can’t control. But we’re going to be okay.”
It’s difficult to write about spirituality in a blog post when you’re also a semi-pubilc figure for reasons that aren’t directly related to spirituality, but I try to be open on here about my beliefs, seeing as how those beliefs inform every part of my life. I know I’m going through a Death Card year, and while that doesn’t necessarily mean literally dealing with death or mortality, sometimes it does. And it’s true a lot of people in my orbit have passed away in recent months, but mainly I have been emotionally supporting others through those deaths. I have, myself, always been good at processing death. Maybe because loss like that is such an undeniable kind of pain, I’ve never tried to talk myself out of grief like I have other emotions. But I don’t think this year is really about mortality. I think, for me, it has been more about committing to my particular faith—committing to the things I’ve always known deep in my gut, without anyone ever telling me it was so.
This past spring and summer, I’ve been making an effort to rediscover my spiritual path. So far, I’ve been reaping huge benefits, especially when it comes to my health. Some situations are more difficult to see through a spiritual lens, though—sometimes you don’t want to see it through that lens. Suffering, especially, is not something I can square very easily with my spirituality because I do not believe in a universe that demands suffering or uses it for “lessons”. But I have realized over the years that most of my suffering (emotional, mental, and physical) comes from ignoring my intuition or acting in opposition to it—acting from a place of fear instead of trust (in myself, in things working out, or that I knew what was best for me). And that caused me to see that suffering is not a lesson the universe gives you, it’s a lesson you walk into when you abandon yourself, like putting your hand on a hot stove because someone told you it was the proper thing to do, even though you know better.
(Obviously I’m not talking about all suffering—I do not know why terrible things happen to innocent people and I do not necessarily believe “everything happens for a reason”. I’m just a gal with a blog and a penchant for spiritual musings—I don’t pretend to have an answer for everything. But I do think many problems we face in life arise from disconnection from our true self.)
Anyway, what does that all have to do with my dog having cancer? A few things. I have been practicing, for a long time now, to tune out other people’s voices unless I am asking for advice. Many people, I am aware, think it’s not a good idea to spend this much money on cancer treatment for a 13 year old dog—never mind the fact that smaller dogs like Rusty (half Pomeranian, half Sheltie) can live upwards of 18 years according to my regular vet (in fact I met a nice old man in Ithaca while I was getting gas for the drive home from Rusty’s CT scan at Cornell, and when he saw Rusty he told me he’s had four Pomeranians who all lived long healthy lives to 19 years old). Honestly, many people—good people!—probably wouldn’t spend this much on cancer treatment for a dog of any age. And there was a time when I might have let the opinions of “many people” influence my decision, but I am happy to say I am at a point in my life where I don’t need the agreement or approval of the masses in order to know what the right decision is for me (and my dog). In fact I’ve been making moves the past year that a lot of people would think are crazy (and some people I know think are irresponsible, but we’re not getting into that right now). But at the same time, this is the first year in ages where my health as been improving instead of declining, so frankly, I do not care what those people think. I spent way too much of my life making choices based on what I thought was correct according to other people’s standards, instead of what my body and soul knew was right. I will not be doing that again.
And what I know right now is that I fucking love my dog. I fucking love my cats, too. I do not commit to taking care of a pet lightly—when I adopt an animal, they are my family, end of story. And I’m not saying people who would make a different choice don’t love their animals just as much—I’m only saying this is the right choice for me. $10k is a lot, I know. But Rusty’s life is invaluable. Even if I don’t get him for much longer, I at least want him as happy and as comfortable as possible. I could not forgive myself if I did anything less than everything within my power to make that happen for him, including taking on a little debt.
Rusty has been my friend through all the worst moments of my adult life, and all the best, too. I want to be here for him, now, when he needs me most.
So I am at peace with my decision, regardless of whether or not I end up carrying some debt for a while. I have been so fiscally savvy and responsible most of my adult life that I haven’t paid interest on anything but my mortgage statement or car payment since 2013. So…I think I’m allowed a little debt in my 40s!
If you would like to help Rusty fight cancer so he can keep (and hopefully improve!) his quality of life, here are three ways you can help:
1.) I now have a print-on-demand swag shop! All proceeds from all sales will go towards Rusty’s cancer treatment costs. There are tee shirts, tote bags, mugs, stickers, and magnets. Most have to do with The Wilderness of Girls, but some are just random feminist goodies. Please note: shipping is calculated by the manufacturer and not factored into the price. I’ve ordered a few items from this POD manufacturer over the last couple of years and they are very high quality and stand up to lots of wear and washing. That said: I’m not able to handle refunds or returns at this time, but if an item arrives and it is in really bad shape, please let me know and I will contact the manufacturer to see what can be done.
2.) Signed, personalized books! 1 If you are in the market for a signed, personalized copy of The Wilderness of Girls, I have quite a few paperback copies I would be happy to send for a donation of $15 (or more if you’re feeling generous) via PayPal (friends and family option), Venmo, or CashApp. Media mail postage starts at about $5.50 these days to ship a copy of Wilderness, so if you’d like to cover shipping that would be appreciated. If you’re interested, contact me in whatever way you know how: reply to this newsletter (if you’re reading this as a newsletter), use the contact form on this site, or email or text me if you have that info. Social medial is not the best way to contact me right now, as I have been pretty inactive on socials this summer. Just let me know your name, mailing address, and any other kind of personalization you’re looking for.
A note re: signed copies: I am traveling from August 6 until August 15 (for work and then for Rusty’s radiation treatments), so the books would get in the mail soon after the 16th.
3.) We’ve set up a fundraiser on Gofundme for Rusty’s cancer treatment! And it is seeing tragically little traction, which I kind of expected considering the hellscape we’re living in has made the economy feel like a giant grimacing emoji. But if you would like to help us out as directly as possible, this is the best way (unless you just want to Venmo me some funds). I’ve laid out the expenses as transparently as I can on the Gofundme page so you know exactly where the money is going. If on the off chance we raise more money than we need (seems unlikely at this pace), that money will be donated to our local animal shelter.
If you’ve read this far, all I can say is thank you. I know we’re all going through it this year. The world stage is a dumpster fire and everyone I know is having personal crises one after another. I beg you not to donate to this cause if it feels like a stretch to you, but if you have a moment to spare and can send some love and healing vibes to Rusty, I know he’ll appreciate it. He’s a sensitive boy.
In the meantime, here’s hoping Rusty gets many more long walks, swims at the park, blanket digging shenanigans, butts to sniff, and many, many days of ease, comfort, and snackos.
Thanks for reading!
- If you are interested in signed, personalized copies of my ancient self published books (iykyk), I still have quite a few of those, though I don’t think my agent would encourage distribution since future revised/reimagined traditionally published versions are not off the table. But who knows? They might be collectors items some day! Donations for these oldies start at $15.5 (which includes shipping) but of course if you’re feeling generous you can always send a bit more. Please let me know what book you’re looking for and send payment via PayPal (friends and family option), Venmo, or CashApp. Rusty and I thank you! ↩︎