Life is good, until it isn't

Man.
It’s been a week and a half since Clem and I went to Davis for a CT scan to get more information on her ISS diagnosis.
We’d been the week prior for a consult, and the consult wasn’t much more encouraging than the Internet research I’d done. The diagnosis was rare and the prognosis grim.
In the same time, the COVID-19 pandemic's been called and toilet paper is rarer than gold.
Stores are empty and people are hoarding.
We went to the store last night for a few things and the only things left were beer, tequila, and English cucumbers.
I bought all three.
Still shaking my head.
Life is good, until it isn’t.

Thanks a lot life. We're all working on our own stuff anyway, but wow.
This. This is a lot.
For me, I’ve been struggling with Clem’s diagnosis. And an old dog, an old horse and yea, it's a lot. I know you've got your own stuff to deal with.
This diagnosis (I refuse to call it 'her's') is very rare and the research community has yet to find a treatment that yields a cure or even encouraging results. The recommended approach right now is radical excision surgery and then a month of radiation.
Ouch.
Life is good, until it isn’t.
In my book I wrote about what I called 'the black sharpie line' – we all hit them and we all have them. That line forever defining what life was before, and how something comes and changes it forever.
You know what yours is/are.
Sometimes they're unique to us and other times, like now, the whole world has just crossed a universal black sharpie line.
Fear is flying and uncertainty is sky high.
Many of us are under 'shelter in place' orders and are trying to figure out what these next few weeks/months look like.
We take so much for granted and now all of that is thrown up into the air.
We’re all trying to figure out how to catch the pieces.
Lives and businesses are in harm's way.
So it might seem ridiculous to be thinking about a cat.
One little gray cat in the madness; how can she matter in the midst of this mess?
In times of chaos we hunker down.
Go to ground, gather up what we love, and take solace in them.
Like Clem.
She knew what she was doing when she showed up here one wet day three falls ago. She charmed and bargained her way into our hearts (Clem's resume reads excellent manners, a sparkling personality, and KO'ing one big a$$ gopher that had been driving Pat nuts). Now she owns our family.
So we're torn up about this.
I've done all the due diligence I can and we've decided that sending her off for a month of radiation that may or may not cure this isn't the course for us.
For her.
We looked at Clem's best life and that wasn't it.
So we're doubling down on helping her live the most healthy, the most loved, the most every moment counts life.
None of it's guaranteed y'all.
That irrefutable fact hit us all pretty hard and heavy when the rug got pulled out from the entire world.
So a small gray cat in a small rural place may seem like small potatoes in the harsh reality of what's going on, but I think it's more than that.
I think, once again, Clem came to teach us something.
She's taught us to rethink what we thought - we're not cat people. Wrong.
It's okay to be wrong, to give something that seems way out of your wheel house a chance. It's pretty cool to learn something new about yourself, to learn to love something you never expected.
Love is the great multiplier.
There's enough love to go around to both dogs AND cats.
She's taught us that sometimes you just need to turn tail and show your backside to things that don't make you happy - thanks Clem.
That's a lesson lots of us needed to learn.
She's taught us that dogs and cats can get together - it takes all kinds of kinds - the first night she came inside she snuggled down right next to Kai as it to say hey bud, can you help me out?
She's taught us to do all we can when faced with tough stuff, and then breathe, take care of yourself and those you love and then rest; knowing you've done all you can do.
We're still believing.
We're still praying for a hedge of health and protection over our beautiful girl.
We're going to put Today I'm Good into active practice.
Clem's going to be living her best life day by day, and I'm going to walk with her in that.
She's a pretty darn good teacher.

I hope wherever you are you're finding peace, washing your hands, helping your neighbor in however that presents itself to you.
Get Psalm 46.1 on repeat. It will lift your spirits.
I'd love to see what you're up to as we all work together to #flattenthecurve. xoxo