Debby Does…

We’ve got two dogs with whom we keep company—Matilda (pictured here) and Adelaide (still waiting for her moment in the spotlight). Matilda is the elder spokesperson and goes by Tilly, when not in deep trouble with Mama. Both dogs are rescues from Puerto Rico and came from the same incredible shelter, https://sasfapr.org/, run by a glorious human being named Dellymar Bernal Martínez. Being humanly childless ourselves, these two are our world, and we cater to their every need and most of their unneeded whims. We’re those people. 

Tilly had a rough start in life. She was dumped over the sanctuary’s gate in a cardboard box with four puppies. Eventually, mama and puppies came to New York City and were adopted out from another amazing shelter, https://www.bideawee.org/. Though we initially wanted one of the puppies from the litter, we chose the mama dog and the rest is history, minus a horrifying first night with her when she ran away into the dark! Happy ending, we got her back. 

In her 9 years with us, Tilly’s health has been a major concern, especially since 2020—but then what didn’t get fucked up in 2020? She had her first bout with mast cell cancer, major surgery to remove the tumor, and subsequent chemo. She rocked it all, even showing off her 7 inch scar on the beach for spring break on Sanibel Island. Of course, it was Covid times, so no one was there to appreciate it!

Later in 2020, after I was diagnosed with breast cancer, Tilly had another incident of mast cell cancer, this time in the breast. I mean, how precious is that? We both had breast cancer together. You cannot make this shit up. Another surgery, this time she removed her own staples, and no chemo. Tough little cookie.

One of the things that I most admire about Tilly is her resilience and adaptability. Whether it’s moving to a new house or fighting cancer, she takes it all pretty much in stride. I could learn a heck of a lot from her on those fronts. In mid 2021, we moved, following my mom’s admission into a care facility for her dementia. In order to pay for it, we had to sell our house of 51 years. Our new house, which is wonderful, had some projects, and, in the midst of our kitchen renovation, Miss Tilly aspirated some debris. That lodged in her lung, invited some bacteria over to party, and caused acute pneumonia that went undiagnosed for months. Why, you ask? Because my mom rapidly deteriorated and ultimately died in November of 2021. 

Finally, we got an appointment in early 2022 at Ryan Veterinary Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania and, with a great deal of effort and care by their incredible staff, we have been infection free for about a year. Residual effects include terrible coughing and an unending stream of gelatinous snot that we can pull, taffy style, from her sweet nose. But, we love her, so we’re here for it all. 

Today, at what I thought was a routine visit, I pointed out a small lump and we’re back at mast cell cancer again. We’ll be trying a new intratumoral injectable drug, called Stelfonta, which we hope will kill the cancer and save her from another surgery and time under anesthesia. I don’t think she’s done with us yet. There’s an awful lot of sweet potato treats to eat and imaginary shit to bark at.

In 2019, my little cardboard box girl won a contest and found herself on the cover of a coffee table book, as well as adding $5,000 to the coffers of her rescuing sanctuary. The picture above was on the cover of that book. Every time I look at it, the love is palpable. My darling Tilly, who presses her warm body into the small of my back most nights, has been the source of such joy and love for so many people. She’s a warrior—a warrior of love, even though she makes you work hard to earn it.

People used to say that in their next lives they wanted to come back as one of our family’s dogs. It’s a doggie jackpot over here, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Long live Tilly and Addie and your furry friends!