Thursday, November 01, 2012

Sad Pugs, NaNoWriMo, and Facial Frying


It’s November, and I haven’t blogged in a while. It’s also NaNoWriMo, which means nothing to my friends who don’t write. For those who do, that’s National Novel Writers’ Month.

I’m writing… though sparingly. Probably no novels completed this month, but a short-novella is likely going to emerge intact.

I’m also back for more radiation on my head. Cancer in the mouth and throat can be very stubborn, and such is the case for me. The lesion on my salivary gland did get a bit smaller, but not small enough. My other issues required cautious radiation, so I’m back in for another few weeks of head frying, with a likely third round in December to make the holidays super fun.

Weirdly, as is always the case when I am sick, Max is depressed. He ALWAYS knows. He has an uncanny ability to even know where the problem is, and lays his head on the afflicted area, sometimes licking it incessantly. In this case he isn’t licking, since he came to me having been taught not to lick faces. It’s very rare he’ll give me so much as a swipe of the tongue on my face. Usually I’m holding him really tight and rubbing his belly or butt and the tongue goes into a seizure that results in an involuntary tongue slash.

Since I was diagnosed, though, he won’t sleep without putting his head next to mine, usually chin on my shoulder, or draped over the top of my head on the pillow with his nose against my neck. He’ll press his face there and sniff—snort, really, he’s a pug.  Then I get a quick, almost timid little lick where my jaw meets my neck—exactly where the radiation is targeting.

He also fusses more than normal when I go out the door. Big sad face. If you are not a pug person you may never have seen one of them cry actual tears. Some claim it’s just the breed’s watery eyes, but he only does it when he’s very depressed or over-the-top melodramatic… like when I have been leaving him home a lot. Today I got the full on tear-palooza.


He should really give lessons.

So now you’re updated. I’m writing, frying, not eating much, and Max is very sad. He does sad about as well as it can be done.


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