What We Can Learn from Our Dog: A True Tale

Posy, as a person with Parkinson’s (PWP) has just returned from a two-month sojourn in Florida. This was not intended to be a holiday, per se, but rather, it was a chance to take on the mantle of a pseudo-Mary Poppins: an attempt to comfort and care for her daughter. In her arrogance, Posy had not realized that, to a large extent, this role was already being filled by her daughter’s dog, Poppy* (*not her real name.)

Poppy Poppins?

This wonderful animal stays by Posy’s daughter’s side, night and day. She is walked around the block a couple of times a day, fed and watered, but otherwise, Poppy gives freely of her love, loyalty, presence and support. Eighteen months ago, Poppy was diagnosed with a tumor on her spleen. Sadly, it was inoperable as it was also attached to the wall of her body. The sympathetic vet sat on the floor with Posy’s heartbroken daughter as she explained to her that Poppy had at most two months to live. However, the vet warned, it was more likely that, within the next few days, a sudden bleed would kill her instantly.

There was, indeed, one terrifying incident a few days later, where Poppy collapsed on a walk and stopped breathing. Luckily, Posy’s daughter was able to revive her, and she carried the (large) animal back upstairs to her second-floor apartment. From that moment, Posy’s daughter was living on a knife edge, as you can imagine. However, with tremendous love, care, adherence to every precaution and extremely expensive medications, Poppy is still alive and happy.

Can "Parkies" be this happy?

Yes, Poppy is happy! Are we “Parkies” able to feel true happiness? Is it the knowledge of our condition as opposed to our physical symptoms that can render us despondent? Obviously, Poppy is not aware of her terminal diagnosis. (Mind you, this dog is mind-blowingly intelligent and intuitive!)

Basically, Poppy the dog has taught Posy some important lessons that would be worth emulating:

If at all possible:

1. Try to accept. Accept your own pain and carry on with life regardless.
2. Keep trying. If you fall down, try to get up, then continue until you fall again.
3. Accept the things you cannot change. It is what it is. Poor Poppy’s medications make her incredibly thirsty, but she is not allowed to quench that thirst satisfactorily as it causes her to choke and vomit. Posy herself found it very tiresome when her PD medications gave her a dry mouth and she may have complained about this on occasion! But she reminds herself to stop feeling sorry for herself: It could be much worse.
4. Appreciate your friends. Each one is golden. If you have even one friend, be thankful. Poppy is content with just my daughter.
5. Enjoy life! Even if your life has shrunk to a predictable routine, you can still enjoy it. Try to incorporate a pared down version of your favorite activities. Poppy used to run like the wind and chase the waves, but she still adores her twice daily short, careful, on-the-leash walks.
6. Smile! It sends feel-good signals to your own brain and encourages others to be happy: How uplifting it is to see Poppy’s short tail wagging at the smallest of joys!
7. "Keep right on 'til the end!" The song tells us never to give up until the end forces you to stop. Poppy will run around until she can run no more. Posy's Dad, at 96, knowing he was probably dying, got out of bed to do his 200 squats when the doctor said he was physically fine, but "just suffering from anxiety."
8. Take responsibility or what you can: Enjoy each golden moment, then accept that you have other duties to perform. Poppy loves her walk, but she dutifully climbs back up the stairs, negotiates the slippery floor, then reverses through the door as she returns to my daughter’s bedside where she is needed.
9. Just do it! If you can see/sing/speak/walk/cook/dance only a little bit, then do that! Don’t complain that these things are too difficult. Poppy’s once deep, terrifying baritone bark has become a feeble, husky cough but she still tries to guard the property. Posy used to have a strong singing voice and she is gutted that Parkinson’s has taken this from her.(She has been known to moan quite frequently about this….)
10. Accept the indignities aging and disease brings. As with many aging dogs, Poppy has unsightly growths round her eyes. These must be uncomfortable and make it difficult for her to see clearly, but she doesn’t seem to mind. The vet will not risk removing them, as this would necessitate general anesthesia. Sometimes, Posy would want to cry as she imagined this expressive dog was pleading to have them taken away! But, no, Poppy would just lick Posy’s face as though to say, “It’s OK, I understand.” (Posy feels particularly ashamed as she constantly berates her own failing eyesight!! Just having to deal with vari-focal glasses is such an inconvenience!)
    Once or twice, with the tumor pressing on her bladder, Poppy urinated on the way to the front door. She looked alarmed and ashamed, but was is cleaned up without any fuss and therefore Poppy was not driven to depression There are many humiliating symptoms of aging, let alone the extra ones heaped on us by Parkinson's, but let us try to apologize to the carer, and CARRY ON LIVING OUR BEST LIFE.
11. Say thank you. However small the gift offered, accept it with grace. For Poppy, even the tiniest treat (or gentle belly rub) is still a treat to be celebrated!
12. Appreciate the care, loyalty, steadfastness, and patience of those who truly love you enough to put you first. Poppy loves Posy's daughter and would try to protect and please her at any cost. Posy admits she is trying to see through her tears as she writes this, knowing that, at any moment, Poppy may die. It seems to us all that she has somehow kept going against all the odds as she knows my daughter will fall apart without her.

Life can be a struggle. Posy thanks God that Poppy has taught her she must make the most of it.