It’s difficult to imagine, but a century-and-a-half ago this site was covered with logs from the Sierra Nevada waiting to be processed into timber for mining and other applications. A large flume was used to convey the harvested logs to this site, where they were staged for milling.
Now it’s a linear parkway and a favorite place for dogs and handlers to play. When we do morning walkies in town, it is one of our favorite routes. The Girl loves the fact that ground squirrels populate the area and provide prey to chase. Then she loves the cool, moist grass (obviously) for a nice romp and roll after hunting rodents. I like the cool that emanates from the grass and the shade of the large trees surrounding the site. Plus there is a sense of history that hangs here. I know that men worked this area to make a living. Their energy still lives here. It is nearly tangible.
The Girl’s vet called me a couple of days ago. The mass he was concerned about was a hemagiopericytoma, which is an old term for a soft tissue sarcoma. The pathologist called it Grade 1, which means that there is a 15-percent probability that it will return or metastasize. The margins were clear so he got all of the dangerous tissue. It is the best we can do and I’m not going to worry about it.
But I still f*ing hate cancer. I remind myself regularly that there is only here, there is only now.