STELLA
The Endless Farts and Tiny Mind of a Darling Disaster
by Kristen Johnston
Stella was...well, Stella was none of those things. She was like the homely sister of a model or a movie star. She was stout, snorty, stinky and her lower jaw jutted out (all the better to see her hilariously awful teeth). She was blessed with the remarkable skill of ripping indescribably awful farts seconds before you sat next to her. Her timing was uncanny.
Oh, and it’s worth mentioning that she had the mental capacity of a stick of wood.
Poor Stella.
Think Helen Klum, Jessica Aniston, Candy Theron or Ashley Jolie. However, instead of being jealous, Stella was oblivious to all the attention Lulu would ineveitably draw from the throngs of admirers on New York City sidewalks. Instead would waddle along; a happy, stupid, kind creature. They utterly adored each other.
Lulu & Stella bore witness to the darkest period of my life, years of a hideous clinical depression, which I wisely treated by self-medicating with enormous amounts of opiates and red wine. Because, after all, I am a Doctor. Well, that’s not quite true. However I am a nurse. Oh, alright, so I played a nurse on ER for 6 episodes, same thing.
Until you’ve experienced the endless, muddy swamp of clinical depression, it’s almost impossible to comprehend. I was desperate for relief. I can think of a number of times where the only thing preventing me from swallowing the entire bottle of pills was my concern for the fate of my dogs. At the time I almost resented them for hindering my plans. Now I’m so grateful. Without them, I'm fairly certain I wouldn't be here.
Many years later, after I finally got my dumb ass to rehab, I was slammed with a few monumental buzzkills immediately upon my return: First, living life without drugs or alcohol was way easier to do in a rehab.
And second, Lulu was dying.
For years she had a terrible, deep cough that no medication seemed able to touch. So we all lived with it, despite the fact that she hacked like Bette Davis after a bender. However, it had now clearly progressed to the point where her quality of life was awful - she coughed so consistently she barely slept or ate. Plus, she was really, really old. As anyone who’s experienced it can attest, euthanizing a pet you love like a child is excrutiating, unbearable.
Compounding the nightmare was that Lulu was so intelligent I swear she KNEW what was happening to her and once inside the room in the veteranary hospital (where she’d been many times before, with no problem), she began freaking out, fighting desperately to escape, to live. Instead, Stella licked her face while I held her still, screaming and weeping as I allowed a vet to kill my dog.
Thank God my friend Joe was with me, not just because of the steady comfort he provided, but because he bore witness to something I still have a hard time believing actually happened. If he hadn’t been there, I think I would have convinced myself I had made it up, because it’s simply too strange to comprehend.
Once Lulu was finally gone (of course the first shot didn’t work), Joe, myself, and my suddenly sister-less dog all stumbled out to my car, in shock. When I turned the car on, the radio was blaring. What the fuck? I knew it wasn’t on when we drove over there (“Yeah! Let’s jam to some tunes as we drive my dog to her death!”), and if it had been, it would not have been on some golden oldies station.
Huh. Oh well...
I reached up and was about to turn it off just as I heard the words “Lulu’s Back in Town.” (I later found out it was a famous Jazz standard and it was sung by Mel Torme, but at the time I had never heard it before in my life).
I looked at Joe, who said succinctly “That’s weird.” I turned my head and looked at Stella, who was staring back at me, stock still. Then I turned back and the three of us just sat in that car, lost in our own thoughts as we listened to Lulu’s goodbye...
Gotta get my old tuxedo pressed, gotta sew a button on my vest,
'Cause tonight I've gotta look my best, Lulu's back in town.
Gotta get a half a buck somewhere, gotta shine my shoes & slick my hair,
Gotta get myself a boutonniere, Lulu's back in town.
You can tell the mailman not to call, I ain't comin' home until the fall,
And might not get back home at all, because Lulu’s back in town....
The following are a series of emails I sent to a few friends and family in November & the beginning of December 2007. I've never quite known what to do with them - should I make them a chapter of a book?
Instead I've decided to share them with you.
To me, they’re an homage to the deep, powerful connection we have towards our pets, but also a truthful snapshot of somebody experiencing brand-new sobriety. A time when I was a lost and terrified foreigner trying to clumsily negotiate the utterly mysterious and completely unfamiliar land of the alive.
Lulu & Stella
Los Angeles, 1998
Subject: Stella
Friday, Nov 9 2007 3:32 am
Still have more Q's than A's. Waiting for last blood work, but basically, there will probably be surgery, and recovery looks grim. The Dr said she wanted to be clear with me and that the prognosis isn't good.
Just waiting on last blood test & a chest x ray before they can do the surgery.
She's lived a great life, due in no small part to all of you loving her so much.
I'm ok. Teary, but I know whatever will be, will be.
I promise I'll keep you updated as soon as I know anything definite.
I'm just praying, and I guess if you pray, toss one her way.
I'm still hopeful she'll surprise the shit out of everyone by simply being too dumb to die.
Love
K
Subject: Stella
Sunday, Nov. 11 2007 5:10pm
There's a mass, which could be anything from cancer to a fucking tinker toy. And since Stella would happily eat pretty much anything, including her own puke, I wouldn’t be surprised. The problem is, her pancreas is 3 times it’s normal size.
Just hung out with her for a half hour in the icu. Feel a little better, brought her my pillowcase so she’d know I was there. Also, everyone in the ER loves her and they all went on & on about her expressive face. So she's been getting lots of love.
She looks miserable & stupid, I don't know why that comforted me. They'll call mid surgery (tonight I guess) & we'll go from there. If it's cancer, well - she was very clear that she may not wake up.
Thank God one of her Vets, Dr. Fishkin, is so incredibly nice, she has 2 pit bulls, and was just very sympathetic.
If it isn't cancer, or just regardless, the chances of a dog her age...well, she's mostly worried about the next 48 hours. The chance of infection after an operation there is REALLY high. I told her I knew only too well, because of my stomach disaster last year.
Please pray for her.
I know you all loved her in spite of her mental disability.
Xx
Subject: Re: Stella
Sun, Nov 11 7:42pm
She has an (almost definitely cancerous) tumor in her pancreas.
He presented me with 2 options, neither thrilling. In fact, both just terrible, terrible options. (And I had to decide which one that instant, as he was speaking to me while standing over her still cut open):
2. Or they could kill her now.
I think the surgeon wanted to put her down. But he doesn't know her. Or me.
So that's it. It helps to write it all out. I'll let you know what happens.....but I will say, this apartment is a whole lot better when she's in it.
I miss her.
Subject: So far, so good
Sun, Nov 11, 10:26pm
The next 2 to 5 days are critical, but I really think she's maybe got another year or 2.
Slower, dumber, more annoying, but I think she's gonna do it. I hope.
I can visit her at noon.
Oh, btw, the Dr said "you made the choice I wouldve made for my dog.".....
Which would’ve been way more helpful to know about three hours ago.
Dick.
Subject: Re: Stella
Mon, Nov 12 2007 1:39pm
It's still very iffy, trying not to get too excited, but I'm so relieved, and maybe all the good vibes sent her way helped.
Or again, maybe she's too dumb to die.
Xxxx
Stella & her new sock monkey, given to her by one of the vet techs
Subject: The latest...
Tues, Nov 13 4:50pm
but mostly, she's wasted, and looks a lot like her mommy circa 2005.
I'm hopeful, but the reality is, 80 percnt of dogs who have this surgery don't make it.
I mean, they basically took out a bunch of her innards & drastically moved the stuff that's still there. Plus, the biopsy results aren't back yet.
But I'm hopeful. I really am.
She's at the hospital @ 15th & 5th, so if any of you want to visit her, let me know.
Jackie cracked up today cause I was pretending to be a munchausen by proxy doggie mother with the Nurses.
They didn't get it.
But Jackie did.
K
From: Kjo
Subject: Update
Weds, Nov 14 2007 6:23pm
So, here's the deal. I've been trying to wait to write you guys in case I had more news, but I haven't heard back from the Vet yet, so I'll give you what I know:
amazing.)
Then, about 2 hrs ago, I got a call from the vet. There's a buildup of fluid in her body, and they don't know if its an infection, or if something ripped open.
So I had to again make the split-second decision whether to put her down or open the poor old girl up yet again.
After 20 minutes of hysteria, I decided they should open her up again.
She's on the table now.
I haven't heard anything yet.
When I do, I'll let you know.
But just thank you all for loving her & me. And your calls.
I do feel blessed, I really do, to have you all in my life.
Stella's mommy
Subject: She just won't die!
Wed, Nov 14 2007 9:56pm
I know, eeew.
But, she pulled through yet AGAIN!, and I'm so happy I made the right call. If we hadn't decided as quickly as we did, the surgeon felt it wouldve been too late & he wouldve had to put her down.
Except this one isn’t funny.
That's all I got.
K
Subject:
Thurs, Nov. 15, 2007 11:07am
Update you all later, but thanks for offering to visit.
Xxx
Subject: Days Of Our Lives, Stella Style
Thurs, Nov 15, 2007 8:44pm
I just saw her for the first time since the 2nd operation. She is just lying there.
Its just a killer, it really is. But the sweet vet tech sat next to me (after I burst into tears) and said that despite how bad she looks, she has defied ALL expectations, and is the talk of the Hospital. Just her sheer will to live.
They really can't believe she's made it this far.
Which was a good kick in my ass....I mean if she's fighting so hard, then I will too.
She knew I was there, and moved her head to look at this other toy I brought from home. She's out of it, but she's still Stella. I know she wants to live. I can just tell.
What a Lady.
when will she maybe, maybe come home?”
"Let’s just take it one day at a time."
Thanks, Jesus.
Like I needed THAT reminder again.
(I actually kind of did)
From: Kjo
Subject: Re:Fri, Nov. 16 2007 6:34pm
I just left her, she perked up a LOT during my visit, sat up, drank her first water in 2 days.
Everytime I visit, at the beginning, she looks so bad that I start bawling & asking everyone if I should just put her out of her misery. But always, I leave knowing she wants to keep fighting.
Sometimes, I am just confounded by the decision before me.
Keep fighting, exposing her to countless agonys, Or let her rest, finally.
To be honest, it is like nothing I've ever felt, every instinct in me is crying out for my own relief, a pill, a glass of wine. But I won't.I’ve had the best time with her the last few months, being a sober, good mom for once....taking her to the dog park, playing with her, letting her lie next to me watching tv so we can snuggle. I used to make her lie on the end of the couch, because she’d knock over my wine. What an asshole. Me, not her.
Besides, I'd usually end up spilling it myself.
Every night we’d walk to the theater and she’d lounge backstage while I performed 'Scarcity,' and every night she and I would walk home together as the cast went out for drinks. My little sober companion.
So, I'm not going to relapse. Life on life's terms.
I wouldn't do that to her.
But I want to.
I've never gone through something so powerful sober. It sucks. I can't quite express in words what it's like to enter my apartment. An unbearable silence in place of her noisy greeting.
Year after year, day after day, she's been there.
I realized that I never really grieved for Lulu, because Stella was there.
So, I'm IN it.
It's scary & powerful. Then it hit me.
Sometimes life is just awful & mean & unfair. But you have to be IN it in order to honor it.
Stella's mom
Wearing Dr.Fishkin’s frog.
Subject:
Sun, Nov 18, 2007 10:26pm
But the crux is, as always, that it doesn't look good. It's frustrating to keep writing that, every fucking night, but trust me....it's far more upsetting to hear it.
Because, there are a million highs & lows in between that.
Last night was the best, cause she was so STELLA. Of course, watching her walk towards me hooked up to this massive IV stand, and needing 3 people to escort her, that is brutal.
But last night Dr. Fishkin said "I'm not supposed to say this, but I am so hopeful! She's a miracle. As long as we don't see any bacteria in her stomache tube, by Monday we can start getting REALLY excited!!!"
This morning, they found bacteria.
Crushing.
While speaking to her vet (I did NOT like the one treating Stella today.....pompous, condescening and cold), I said no to any more surgery. BUT I told her I had a similar infection, and they just shoved a tube in me (at site of infection) & let it drain.
She said they were already thinking about doing something similar. I said “So what’s the hold-up?” (Don’t fuck with me, bitch. I can give as good as I get.)
So they went ahead and did that, getting a lot of bad stuff out. Plus changed her antibiotics.
I guess that was good, but I can't wait for her real Dr to see her.
I have to explain, and if you'd see her you know what I mean--She really & truly SEEMS good....like "When are you taking me home, and then the park?"
She really does. People who've been to see her agree. She is Stella & wants to come home.
I'm just saying this because as much as I love her, I'm not some crazy dog lady who
wants to keep her alive & have a pet sematary dog.
She doesn't want to stop.
No one (I know I keep saying this) but no one can believe how resilient she is.
So that's where it is today. More purgatory.Thanks for your calls, etc.
Love, K
Subject: Big News
Tues, Nov. 20th 2007 5:15pm
Stella is actually slightly improving. The great news is, they aren't seeing any bacteria. Her spirits are up. But she still won't eat, and her stomach won't work yet. That's critical, but they feel she's now strong enough for them to try some more aggressive treatments.
I took her home of course. Gonna give her to Joe the dog walker, or the kennel, the first few weeks Stella's home.
Her name is 'cookie', but I'm thinking of changing it to 'Pinky', altho nothing's set.
I'll also send some pics taken by the over excited ASPCA lady.
Seeing Stella soon.
Love you all
The day I got Cookie (Pinky)
Subject: Stella
Tues Nov 27, 2007 6:08pm
But she's playful & fighting & wants to live, so I am just gonna keep fighting until she stops.
I brought her favorite green frisbee back from Ct dig, dig, dig and she became so intense & crazy & the vets laughed their asses off. They only bring it out once a day because of how completely unhinged she becomes.
I thought of you, Hickey. You would’ve loved it.
Dig dig dig.
She is still not eating though, and is so skinny. I kind of broke down today, little bag of bones. She has so many tubes in her, argh.
But she occasionally holds down food thru her stomach tube.
Pinky is a doll, loved the country, but its weird there without the grand dame of outside play.
So that's where its at.
I hope you all had great thanksgivings!
Dig. Dig. Dig.
17
Subject: End Game for Stella
Thurs, Nov. 29, 2007 3:50pm
I just found out that Stella, despite her sunny disposition, all the endless treatments and all the love in the world - is not gonna pull through.
Her GI tract just won't work, and they think it's pretty much dead. It's crazy-making, because she SEEMS okay.
I'm giving her another 24 hours of aggressive treatment, but it's just.....end game.
The good/bad news is, I get to take her home on Saturday am. She'll be so happy to be home & I hope some of you can visit. Then she'll be euthanized at home on Sunday, with me & all her stuff around her.
It's the definition of bittersweet.
So, if any of you would like to say hi/bye to her, call me. She is still the same cute Stella. But I also know that that's so hard for some people.
To this day, one of the funniest memories of my life.
Thank you, Hickey
Subject: RIP Sweet Stella
Sat, Dec 1 2007 5:58pm
Jackie & I brought her home to my apartment, and I was hoping to have one last night with her, but it didn't work out that way. She started breathing so hard, and finally I saw in her eyes something I'd never seen in all these weeks - she was finally done. The fight was gone from her eyes.
(Although, even with belabored breathing, goddam if she didn't STILL want to "dig dig dig" at that green fucking frisbee - Gasp dig dig gasp dig dig.)
Unreal.
Me & Cadee & Jackie drove her to the hospital, where they had agreed to come out and euthanize her in my car, so she didn't have to die in that fucking place. I couldn’t bear her having to go back in there, I just couldn’t.
Jackie drove, and I'll spare you the details of her "hysterical-slash-I'm-perfectly-fine-and-not-at-all-devastated" driving.
Only cause I can’t wait to act it out to you all in person.
God, I love you Jackie. Thanks for loving Stella as much as I did.
You are one hell of a friend.
But it was pretty funny.
I was riding in the back holding Stella, and even she looked up at me as if to say What’s happening? Am I in hell? I'm scared mommy.
I swear, Hickey.
She died in my arms, her head on her frisbee.
That did it.
I needed to not feel this.
I’m not equipped to feel this.
I pushed the car door open & ran, slamming instantly into into Joe Schrank's chest. (Thank you so much, big Joe, for being there to catch me.....a lesser man would’ve folded, or at least faltered, but damn if you're not as sturdy as a Redwood).
Well, maybe not Joe cause he's a straight man who likes football, but the sight must’ve been pretty amazing. Three loudly sobbing women all hanging on to one enormous man right on 5th avenue.
I never ever expected to feel grief & pain like this.
I'm so glad I'm feeling the whole weight of it, she deserved that from me.
We ended up getting french toast afterward, which worked out just fine anyway.
Kristen
Stella Johnston
1995 - 2007
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