Mr. Maxx by Marcia Siemsen

Maxx started limping on his front left leg in September 2009. X-rays didn’t show anything obvious, but in the interest of safety, Maxx’s vet, Dr. Louis Brad at Gunbarrel Veterinary Clinic in Boulder, had a radiologist take a look at the films. She saw something ‘funny’ and said we should take Maxx up to CSU [Colorado State University] just to be sure. So I took Maxx up to CSU on my 57th birthday, and got the worst news possible. After a full body bone scan and bone biopsy, Maxx was presumptively diagnosed with osteosarcoma of the left proximal humerus. After hearing all the options, I elected not to amputate – Maxx is a 12 year old Great Pyrenees, and he is a big, big boy. I jokingly say that his life expectancy is about 10 years, and that he’s already out of warranty, so I didn’t want a big change for him to have to deal with in the form of an amputation.

But the doctors said that SRS (Stereotactic Radiosurgery, sorta kinda like cyber knife technology that we hear about) has similar results when coupled with chemo as does amputation and chemo. So Maxx had SRS up at CSU with the most advanced tool there is. (They call it the Trilogy). He was in the hospital at CSU for a week. The night of his bone biopsy, before SRS, he had so much pain he had heart problems, and we thought we were going to lose him. But he pulled through and sailed through the SRS with the love and support of the absolutely miraculous staff at CSU, for which we are eternally grateful.

After SRS, Maxx was scheduled for five rounds of Carboplatin. When we went to CSU for round three, we found a lump on his back which turned out to be an osteosarcoma metastases, just a short 3 months after original diagnosis. So on that day, we were SO VERY LUCKY to get Dr. Steve Withrow (IMO THE number one expert literally in the entire world on osteosarcoma) as our consult, and he said to ditch the Carboplatin and get more aggressive, and we immediately started Doxorubicin. So far, Maxx has had two rounds, and is scheduled for three more.

Doxorubicin kicks Maxx’s butt pretty good for about a week – no vomiting or lower GI problems; I think he just feels like he has the flu pretty bad and doesn’t want to eat a whole lot and he sleeps a lot. He has a special blanket that I cover him with, and he gets lots and lots of special human food to keep his strength up until he emerges from what I call the “chemo doldrums.”

After the first Doxorubicin round, Maxx immediately had surgery to remove the mass, and thanks again to his wonderful doctor at Gunbarrel Veterinary Clinic, Dr. Louis Brad, Maxx had clear margins, and a big old scar to prove it! Everyone is keeping fingers and toes and paws crossed for Mr. Maxx. He is just such a wonderful boy; everyone loves him and smiles when they see him.

He was never really sick a day in his life before the dreaded osteosarcoma came to our house. I try to say nothing but positive things around Maxx, and I refuse to cry around him. He has always been my rock, and now it’s my turn to be his. I’d like to please ask everyone in our 2 Dogs 2000 Miles community to keep Mr. Maxx in their thoughts and prayers. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, but somehow osteosarcoma managed to turn one of them into something way worse than mean. He didn’t deserve this.


4/28/2010

It is with profound sadness that I let you all know that Maxx left our world last night (April 27, 2010) here in his home with peace and dignity. He was such a wonderful wonderful boy, always kind, always loving, and always brave. He never met a human he didn't love and vice versa.

My fondest memories of Maxx will be the many times with him in the car, stopped at a red light in Louisville, and people stopped beside me yelling "Hi Maxx" at him from their cars. I had no idea who any of these people were, but they knew and remembered Maxx from everywhere he went - Lowe's, Home Depot, the Louisville Farmer's Market, the parades on Main Street, the festivals, the parks,... He was popular and unforgettable. Children flocked to him, and he just would stand there and smile.

Thank you all for your love and support over the past months. It has been a difficult journey and I hope that with the passing of time the lesson will become clearer. Right now, I'm just so very very sad and broken-hearted. But he deserved one last gift, so I gave him rest.

Marcia

Solar’s Journey by Michele Handte

When he was just shy of 3 years old, Solar came to live with me. Prior to that, he lived with my best friend, Kate, who happens to be his breeder. Solar always loved me from when he was a little puppy and would turn himself inside out when I showed up. In fact, I wasn’t allowed to be near the show ring when he was being shown because he always tried to leave the ring to get to me.

When he was just over two and had finished his championship, which in itself was a harrowing experience, Kate decided that she was going to place him because he would get more attention in another home. I had always told her that I wanted him if she ever decided to do that. Well, the time came, but I wasn’t in a position to bring him to my house with the six dogs I already had. So very reluctantly, I told her to give him to the other home she had for him. I knew the person, as did Solar, and knew they would take good care of him.

It was important that Solar go to someone with whom he was at least familiar. Why? Well, when he was being shown in conformation, Kate let a handler take him home for the evening because he was showing Solar all weekend. She thought it would be a good chance for them to get used to each other, and she was staying in the area. When the handler tried to take Solar out of his crate, Solar bolted and wouldn’t come close enough for them to slip their hands under his collar. By the time Kate got there, he had run off into the woods. For six days they looked for him. There had been sightings of him near the high school, which is where he seemed to want to stay. The kids started throwing food to him, but he would always run away if they tried to approach him. And of course every time Kate went to the school, he was no where to be found. Finally, on the sixth day when Kate was making one final loop before having to drive back to Pennsylvania for the night, she spotted him at the edge of the woods. When she called him, he hesitated and then realized it was her. Talk about jumping for joy!!! He was SO happy to find someone he knew!

As it turned out, Solar’s new mom ran into some tough times about six months after taking him and had to give Solar back to Kate. Kate had him for a couple of months when I decided that I needed another agility dog because Jagr absolutely hated the ring, and I just couldn’t put him through it any more.

It was at that point that Solar came to live with me and became my competition dog. He absolutely loved to do anything with me, whether it was obedience, agility, Rally, herding -- it didn’t matter. He was my dog and my dog alone. Getting along with the rest of the pack wasn’t an issue. He always respected every one of them and never offered any challenges.

For some reason, he decided that he liked to bark at my husband, Jack, when he would come home or if Jack got up to move around the house. I joked that Solar was obsessive compulsive, just like Jack. Jack really isn’t except when it comes to exercise. You don’t want to live with him if he hasn’t had his workout! But the two of them loved each other in a unique way. Jack always said that Solar’s last breath would be woofing at him.

Solar went on to be a great partner in competition and earned his OA, OAJ, NJP, NAP, CD, RAE2, PT, JHD, CGC and TDI. In addition to competing, he was a therapy dog who visited nursing homes routinely. He even did agility and obedience demonstrations at the nursing home in the summer time out in the courtyard. The smiles he brought to the elderly residents were priceless. It was so difficult to go back there after Solar passed because they all wanted to know where he was. Solar and his son, Shaman, were quite the hit with all the folks there.

Solar retired from herding (sheep) and agility in 2007 when arthritis started to creep up on him. We were still herding ducks and working on a started title when he had to have his leg amputated. Solar’s ducks haven’t been worked since.

On December 7, 2008, our world changed. We were out for a potty break at an agility trial, which I was chairing, when another dog tried to grab him by the neck. Solar tried to get away but slipped on the ice and let out a yelp. He came up lame on his back right leg. I thought it might have been a pulled muscle because he had been limping but responded well to massage therapy that weekend. Besides the initial yelp, he never cried or whined. So we went home and iced his leg and tried to keep him quiet. By Monday morning, it was very evident in his eyes that I needed to see a vet right away. So off to our vet we went. She asked to put him under so she could get better films. I agreed, so that meant I had to leave him. Then the call came – Solar had a badly fractured femur; and we needed to go to Pittsburgh right away.

On the drive down, I had a terrible feeling in my gut that he had cancer; but I tried to think positively. When Dr. Payne came into the room after looking at the x-rays, my worst nightmare came true – osteosarcoma. He explained that the only way to make Solar comfortable and try to stop the cancer was to amputate the leg. I didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t live in the severe pain he was experiencing, and there was no way I would put him down because of this. By this time it was late afternoon so they put him on a morphine drip and did the surgery the next morning, December 9, 2008. His chest x-ray was clear then.

Just a month prior, Dr. Payne had looked at x-rays sent by my vet and diagnosed osteoarthritis in his hips. Solar had been limping off and on for a couple months, and I wanted to find out why. When I reminded him that he had seen x-rays 4 weeks ago, he said he knew and just looked at them again that day. There was nothing that indicated OS on those films. My hope was that we caught it early enough.

On December 22, 2008, he had his staples removed, and we met with the oncologist. She would do 4-6 rounds of carboplatin, chest x-rays that day, half way through and at the end of the treatment. So Solar started his chemo with a clear chest x-ray on December 22, 2008. His next treatment was January 13, 2009. On January 21, 2009, I was concerned about panting at night so requested another chest x-ray. It was still clear. On February 4, 2009 Solar was scheduled for his third round of chemo, but his blood levels were too low. We waited another week, and he was able to have dose three on February 18, 2009. Dose four was March 5, 2009 and dose five was March 26, 2009. The final dose was scheduled for April 15, but his blood count was too low. Worse than that, they found three lung mets ranging in size from .8 to 1.3 cm. Our options were a couple of rounds of reduced dosage of adriamycin or go with the Metronomic protocol (Metacam, doxycyclinel & leukeran). I say reduced dosage because Solar’s MDR1 gene was mutant/normal, thus he couldn’t take all types of drugs. Adriamycin is one of the drugs on the list to avoid. After much thought, I decided it was too risky to do that and I thought I wanted to go with the Metronomic protocol, but then decided that a purely homeopathic route was better for Solar. I made that decision because of the change in his attitude when he came off the chemo. He seemed so much happier and had a great appetite. I just wanted him to be happy and continue to eat well for however long we had with him.

We started acupuncture on him, which he really seemed to enjoy. That’s the only vet from whom he wouldn’t try to hide behind his mom when the vet came into the room. We continued those treatments about every 10 days up until five days before he died. He also enjoyed his massage therapy and Reiki with his buddy, Maria. Every time she worked on him, there was such a complete calmness and contentment that came over him.

Solar went everywhere with me and missed a trip only once. That wasn’t a happy weekend for him or Jack. From the moment I left, he lay in front of the door and wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t even go to bed with Jack. Then it started ... He howled most of the night at the door. When he finally stopped howling, he whined. I promised him I would never leave him again, and I didn’t. He went to St. Louis several times with me and made many weekend trips to lots of different places. He would never leave my side. Even when Kate, my best friend, would try to take him out, he wouldn’t go. He would only leave with me.

His last trip was to Pittsburgh with Jack and me. It was a very special weekend just a couple of weeks before he left us. It was on that trip that I knew the end was coming soon. I could see him slowing down tremendously. We spent a lot of time just sitting by the river watching the boats and people go by. He was really content and happy.

On June 22, Kate and Solar’s girlfriend, Riot, came to stay overnight with us. I asked her to come and say goodbye because I knew the time was coming soon. Solar had a good day that day and enjoyed seeing both of them. Riot and Solar gave us Shaman four years ago.

It was the next day when Solar struggled to walk and started walking in circles that Jack and I discussed letting him go. His vet knew how much he hated going there so she agreed to come to our home. The decision was made and the appointment set for Friday, June 26, 2009.

Solar had a horrible night on Thursday. He just couldn’t stop coughing and wasn’t able to walk at all. We tried to reach the vet to come that night, but she wasn’t around. But I guess it was meant to be that way. Once the coughing settled, he had a peaceful night. And I had some very quiet and reflective time with him on Friday morning. It was so peaceful. I told him how very much I loved him and how much I was going to miss him, and we talked about all the fun things we’d done together and about him being able to see Jagr again. There were so many things to talk about in so little time. I could feel him hugging me as he pressed himself against me on the couch. I told him it was ok to leave me and that he would always be alive in my heart. Then it was time. He passed peacefully in my arms with his dad by my side.

The most beautiful picture of him is hanging in our family room watching over us every day. Nothing can replace his love for me, but seeing that picture helps. I have never had a dog love me with such intensity and with all his heart and soul as Solar loved me. I hope I was worthy of that love.

I love and miss you with all my heart, Solar.

Rocky’s Story by Kathy Tristan

Valentine’s day 2001. Our daughter, Eileen, who was a junior in high school, brought home a black and tan ball of fur with huge paws and announced she had bought a Rottweiler. My husband, John, less than thrilled, asked who was going to take care of him. Eileen said “I am. He’s mine.”

It didn’t take long for the whole family to fall head over heels in love with the fur ball who came to be known as “Rocky” or “Rocky Boy” or “Rockers” or “Rocky Poo.” He was obviously intelligent. We all got involved with his care and training. For the first couple of weeks I took him to work with me and kept him in my office while I taught my P.E. classes at a local elementary. After a bit I came home during the day to let him out and play with him for a while. Eileen got a real taste of “motherhood” when he wouldn’t sleep at night and she had to take care of him and get up in the morning for school.

Time went on and the boy grew. AND THE FEET KEPT GROWING! By the time he was finished growing he was 122 pounds and his feet were bigger than the palm of my hand. He was a gentle giant and oh so loved.

The true test of Eileen being able to take care of him came on July 11, 2007. Eileen and I took Rocky to the vet a week earlier because we noticed he was limping yet it didn’t seem to slow him down much. The vet, not wanting to get too invasive, thought maybe he had strained his ankle joint from all the hard running and cutting he did or was developing arthritis so he prescribed anti-inflammatories and said if it didn’t look like it was getting any better by the following Monday to bring him back in and he’d take an x-ray.

It didn’t get any better. In fact it seemed to be getting a little worse. So, back we go to the vet. Dr. Craig Meyer of Lake Travis Animal Hospital in Austin, Texas took the x-ray and came back to show us, “The last thing I thought this would be…”. He truly thought he would see some arthritis but he said the word…OSTEOSARCOMA. I knew immediately what he was saying but knew I had to hold it together for Eileen who was now a senior in college. In fact she was in her last semester. She waited to hear him explain what this meant. She held it together pretty well until we went to check out. She gave me her wallet and she took Rocky outside and cried like she had never cried before. Upon leaving the clinic we both were sobbing.

I called John and he was devastated. Eileen called her boyfriend and he was in shock. The hardest part was yet to come. Telling Eileen’s siblings who were 13 and 19. As soon as we got home, Brianne, the 13 year old, asked what the doctor said. I held her and then told her that Rocky had cancer. She immediately started to scream, “NO!” and fell into a lump on the floor. Ian, the 19 year old wasn’t home. I called him to see when he would be home. He was at lunch with his girlfriend. He also asked what the doctor said. I told him I would talk to him when he got home. He insisted I tell him. I kept insisting I would tell him when he got home. Finally, he broke me and I told him Rocky had bone cancer. The line went silent. In 5 minutes Ian came in the front door. And immediately went to Rocky and bawled like a baby. He and his girlfriend had immediately left the restaurant and come home.

We then told the family of the options and prognosis. Eileen called to make an appointment with the Texas Veterinary Oncology Clinic in Round Rock, Texas, a short 8-9 mile drive from our house. We insisted they be frank. The doctor explained that amputation and 4 rounds of chemo were the protocol. Eileen asked if that would cure him and she said, “More than likely not. It would actually stimulate the cells to spread.” Kind of like when the cat’s away the mice will play scenario. Amputate the source and the cells get even more aggressive. But Eileen heard the words 4 weeks if you do nothing and 9 months if you do the protocol. That’s all she needed to hear. Yet, she had a very difficult time making her final decision. She didn’t want to make the wrong decision. After all, what if Rocky didn’t take to only having 3 legs? She didn’t want him to be mad at her.

I took the other road and started surfing the web. I found a Yahoo group called “www.bonecancerdogs.org.” I found this group to be more than helpful yet I couldn’t get Eileen to look at them. It was as if she wanted to avoid dealing with the whole thing. Yet she knew she had to make a decision. Finally, after many conversations with her, one night while she was in the shower I printed and placed on her bed excerpts from the site. I think the most compelling thing I put in the document was “Whatever decision you make it will be the right one for you and your dog.” She came out to tell everyone goodnight and turned to go to bed and sat down on the step in our living room and began to cry. I asked her what was wrong. She said, “I know Rocky needs the surgery. I don’t want him to be in pain.” Of course, in my mind I’m screaming, “THANK GOD. We finally have a decision.” But it had to be her decision. After all, as she told us 6 ½ years earlier he was her dog. So, we began to think of how she could pay for all of this. Remember, she is a senior in college. We gave her a car for her graduation so she decided to take out a bank loan and put her car up for collateral.

July 24, 2007. Surgery day. Rocky goes in for the amputation. He ended up staying until the 26th. He wasn’t up and moving like they wanted him to be. They assured us he would be back to his old self in a few days. HA! Rocky was depressed, wouldn’t get up for anything. Water was brought to him to drink and food was literally shoved in his mouth. This went on for almost 3 weeks. The first weekend in August, Brianne and I were going out of town and Eileen had a weekend babysitting job, leaving John to care for the depressed pup. He was scared to death because he didn’t want anything to happen on his watch. He was able to get Rocky to eat though. He made him some chicken and rice and he gulped it down so when I got back we made some more and he wouldn’t touch it. So, I did something I swore I would never do. I started making him doggie versions of people food. Chicken liver meatloaf. See, I didn’t want him to get used to this diet because our budget just couldn’t afford it. So, we gradually weaned him from the special diet and mixed his regular food into it until the special food was all gone. He was still moping around and was on and off his food.

One night at about 1 am (I am off in the summer and I am a night owl) the kids and I were watching TV when Rocky stood up and started staring in the direction of the fireplace and dancing around. We looked but didn’t see what he was looking at. Finally, Ian said, “Mom, he’s looking at his leash.” As soon as I picked it up Rocky went nuts. Jumping, dancing, barking, panting. So I moved towards the door and opened it. He flew out the door and kept going. We had finally reached the turning point. He didn’t ever get that leash on him that night. I jogged with him. We came back and everyone was so excited. Rocky was back!

Rocky did quite well through all of his chemo treatments and all his chest x-rays were coming back clear. The oncologist was even excited. She told us at his last appointment that he no longer needed to come in for x-rays. At that point even she thought he had a chance. This was in April 2008. The nine month mark since his diagnosis and amputation.

In December 2008 he wasn’t eating much and was lethargic. I called Eileen and she made an appointment with Dr. Craig. He didn’t see anything at this point. He had only lost about 3 pounds but his weight was still over 100 which we were told was the weight we wanted to keep him above. See he dropped from 122 to 116 right after the surgery and finally settled in at 106.

After Christmas the lack of appetite continued as well as the lethargy. So, we took Rocky back to Dr. Craig. He did a CBC and an x-ray. His white cell count was not where it should be and the x-ray showed fluid in his lungs as well as what appeared to be some masses. These masses also appeared on his upper heart and liver. He went ahead and drained the fluid and said to keep an eye on him. It was a Friday evening just before closing time. He said if we needed anything to call him during the night. If we felt he needed more fluid drained to come back and they would take care of it. We went back the next morning. Dr. Jason Foster took Rocky and drained a liter of fluid off his lungs. Jason was direct as I had asked him to be. He said we needed to say our goodbyes over the weekend and expect for Rocky to leave us during the next week. Eileen was the strong one this time. I completely broke down crying. Eileen said, “Mom stop.” We drove home in silence. This day was exactly 18 months since his diagnosis.

I spoke with Dr. Craig during the week about how to handle the euthanasia. I told him Eileen wanted Rocky buried in the backyard and he agreed to come to the house at the end of the day on January 15, 2009. The night of the 14th Rocky hardly slept because he had such a hard time breathing. Eileen woke me at 3 AM and I told her it was time to put him out of his misery. She agreed. I told her I’d call Dr. Craig first thing in the morning to alter our plans. We would now take Rocky to the clinic and then bring him back home. The family wanted to be there. All except Brianne who went on to school. I think she didn’t want to see him after he was put down. So, I called Dr. Craig but he wasn’t in yet. He called me back as I was taking Brianne to school. He said he would still come to the house as soon as he could rearrange the schedule. So, I called home and told John and Eileen. What I didn’t know was they had already coaxed Rocky into the car. Poor baby. So, now they had to take him out and get him back into the house.

When Dr. Craig got to the house Rocky was lying on a sheet on the living room floor. We all circled around him. We each had a hand on Rocky. He looked at all of us as if to say, “It’s been a fun ride, thanks for all the love and thank you for doing this for me.” Dr. Craig began the cocktail. I held Rocky’s head in my hand and he peacefully drifted away to The Bridge where he had 4 legs and was once again healthy.

After Dr. Craig left we carried him in a wagon to the spot waiting for him under his oak tree. We told him goodbye one last time. He was lowered into the crevice in the ground facing the tree. Eileen tucked his favorite toy under his remaining front leg, we gave him a few more pats and touches, then covered him in the sheet he was carried out in and began to cover him with dirt. Understand, we live in the hill country in central Texas so the dirt doesn’t run very deep. We bought bags of top soil to cover him. Ceremoniously, we placed the dirt over him. Mourning doves flew from the tree at that moment. WOW! What a sign.

My hardest day was the next one when I went back to work. Having to keep it together all day. I came home and went outside to sit by Rocky and the tears just flowed. I sobbed for a solid half hour. I’m sure my neighbor behind me thought I was nuts. Oh well.

The days have slowly gotten easier but even sometimes seeing his picture in the digital frame in the living room can cause me to get teary eyed. Brianne finally dealt with it in her own way. We were in the backyard pouring more dirt over Rocky and I asked her to come help. She poured the last bag over him and the tears finally began to flow. At that moment she decided we needed to build a sitting area around Rocky. Kind of a meditation spot. A place to go and think. So, we have made plans and cleared the area of the kids old playscape. When the weather cools down from the 100+ we are now having we plan to really get started on it.

Dr. Craig has been a godsend. Not only did he care for Rocky but he visited with me at school on occasion to see how everyone was holding up. See, Dr. Craig is the husband of one of our teachers and also a parent at my school. Thank you for all you did to make this journey more bearable.

Most of all, thank you Eileen for bringing this beautiful boy we called Rocky into our lives.

Rocky
January 7, 2001 – January 15, 2009

Keyeagan by Dawn Donelson

This story is being written for my mother as it is a new pain that they are dealing with. My mother has always taught me to fight and to believe. She has tried her hardest to protect me from any and all pain. To see her go through this awful disease, bone cancer, makes my heart ache. I can't help her or heal her heart. I can only watch as she continues to believe but is so helpless.


Keyeagan, a 6 year old Great Dane, was diagnosed with bone cancer a year after my own dog had passed from this dreaded disease, and only a month after her 11 year old Great Pyrenees had been diagnosed. A disease that we all were hoping to have seen the last of has somehow grabbed tightly onto our family.

Keyeagan was the sparkle in my parents’ eyes. The new child, if you would, in the house. He went to bed with my parents and awoke with them. He proudly took his stance at his food bowl at breakfast and would enjoy anything he could convince you to feed him, without being caught of course, from the table.

Keyeagan always wanted to play but never quite understood his enormous size. He would playfully chase the cats and dart around the grandchildren as if they were road cones, being very careful not to bump them. He was the human dishwasher/trash compactor. Anything that was left unattended on the table would disappear without an ounce of a trace, leaving the plates clean and shiny as if they had been washed. He seldom got caught doing this.

As I am typing this, so many memories fill my head. Keyeagan did so many things to make us laugh. You know those priceless moments...

For instance, once my parents were playing badminton with their grandchildren and he was running back and forth trying to catch the birdie. If he got it we had to chase him around until he dropped it.

I can remember another time when we were covering the swimming pool. Keyeagan was watching and thought this large cover was going to hurt us so he leaped clear over the side of the pool on top of the cover to attack it and save us. Memories of those funny moments fill your head while at the same time break your heart.

Keyeagan was a protector, a cuddler and a joy to my parents. He was their happiness and there comfort at the end of a long day. Losing him has broken my parents’ hearts and seeing the tears fall from their faces crushes my own heart. Knowing I cannot stop their pain hurts but realizing that Keyeagan is not in pain anymore brings comfort.

Woof by Andy Donelson

An odd name for a dog some might say but he was proudly named by our daughter when she was 2 yrs old. You see, she referred to dogs as woof-woof and when she was asked what to name him, she proudly said "Woof."

I clearly remember the day we went to see the litter of pups. He knocked us over by jumping onto our laps. When we asked to purchase him, the breeder told us that he was not perfect. He had a spot on his nose that might not fill in with the black coloring. How silly to say this...Woof was every bit of perfect to our family.

He was a lover, a protector, a companion, a playmate and my best friend. He has been gone for a year and a half and I still sleep with his teddy bear and cry thinking about him. My heart still aches and has an empty spot which has not healed. I had never had to experience any type of cancer. When he was diagnosed with bone cancer, I was sure he would beat the odds because our love was so strong. His eyes told a story...and that story was for us to be together forever. I had never hated anything until I had to live with this disease.

Woofie, as he was called, was spoiled. He had a party on his birthday, was visited by Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and was constantly given little love gifts. He slept with us. No, not on the floor...right beside me in the bed all night long. I kissed him goodbye when I left for work and hello when I came in the door. He was and still is my baby boy.

We have so many memories that I don't know where to start...so I will just start with something that he loved. Woof loved the snow. Whether it be running and diving head first into a snow bank or simply eating the snow. We'd stand outside and he'd eat his way around the yard. Looking at me every now and then for approval. And boy when he didn't want to do something forget it. He had such a stubborn streak. I can remember having to push him with all my might to get him to move somewhere. Also when he was mad at you or even jealous for some reason, he'd lift his leg with just a squirt to say who's the boss. And he knew what he was doing. What I would give to see that look today.

He was a smart, loving friend and he can never be replaced.

Woof taught me the value of love. True unconditional love. And he showed me determination. We fought as hard and as long as we could with this disease. And we did it all together. I am to believe his soul is still here with me...at least that is what I tell myself so I have the strength to continue. Like I said in the beginning, Woof was always perfect to our family. And he is so greatly missed. But you know what? I'd do it all again just so I could have him in our life to love. And to be loved by him...

Daisy (Blindsided: Two Dogs with Cancer) by Hope Lisle

I have read that one in four dogs will die of cancer. It appears that the statistics at my house are going to be at least two in four dogs will die of cancer. In December 2008, I had been battling osteosarcoma with my 8 and 1/2 year old American Bulldog, Lily for 17 months. I had also started to worry some that Lily's puppies, Rosie and Britney who were 6 years old, might develop osteosarcoma. The one dog that I wasn't too worried about was my Boston Terrier, Daisy. Daisy was 8 ½ years old and I thought that was young for a small dog. I actually used to joke around with my friends and tell them that Daisy would outlive all of my American Bulldogs because I thought small dogs lived longer. Then, on Valentine's Day of 2009, I learned how wrong I was. That is the day that I lost my beloved Daisy to brain cancer.

Daisy's health problems began when she started having seizures on December 30, 2008. I rushed Daisy around to three different veterinary clinics and she had 7 seizures within a 23-hour period. When I finally got an appointment with a neurologist, Daisy was put on medication and monitored in the I.C.U. for 4 days to make sure she did not have any more seizures. I brought Daisy home, kept her on medication and she acted completely normal. She never behaved like she felt bad and to my knowledge she never had another seizure. Then my heart was broken into a million pieces on Valentine's Day when I woke up and my Daisy, who always slept with me, was not moving. She was gone. Daisy had died in her sleep a few days before I had an MRI scheduled to rule out brain cancer. I knew two other Boston Terriers who had seizures, so I had not been as worried as I should have been. The veterinarians told me that Daisy had died from an astrocytoma and that even if I had done the MRI sooner the outcome would have been the same due to the location and aggressive nature of the tumor. One of the things that I always liked about small dogs is the fact that they are supposed to live longer than large dogs. Before I lost Daisy, I honestly did not know that you could lose a small dog at such a young age.

Boston Terriers have always been my favorite breed and Daisy was absolutely my dream dog. Daisy behaved like a large dog in a small package. She was extremely intelligent, energetic, outgoing, friendly and athletic. She was like the Energizer Bunny – she never stopped. She thought everyone was her friend and she wanted to greet everyone by jumping up and licking them in the face. Daisy (aka CH Bandit's Darling Daisy AX, AXJ, NF to name a few titles) was an AKC Champion and an International Champion in the conformation ring. She also had excellent titles in agility and we were working on her MACH (Master Agility Champion). Daisy was also a model who appeared on a couple of Boston Terrier calendars.

I have always been an animal lover but Daisy is the first dog I owned to have any official obedience, agility or conformation training. She was extremely intelligent and that quality made her a fantastic dog to learn agility and obedience with. She could think a lot faster than I could. I will never forget the first time that I laid eyes on Daisy. I had seen a few agility dogs on television and I had decided that agility would be a cool sport to try. When I met Daisy for the first time, this little four or five-week old puppy was running in circles around her brother who was twice her size. She would run around her brother and then take a flying leap over him. I knew then that I had found my "agility dog." I'm sure that I probably drove the people who owned Daisy at the time crazy, because I would not stop calling them to see if they were going to let me have this puppy. Later on, when I started taking agility classes with Daisy, one of the
instructors would often criticize my technique and tell me what I did wrong. However, it really didn't seem to matter if I made a mistake, because Daisy almost always compensated. The time spent training Daisy for agility created an incredible bond between the two of us. Daisy also performed well in the conformation ring. Some of my Boston Terrier breeder friends might say that there were dogs who matched the Boston Terrier standard better than Daisy. However, Daisy was just a little show-off. She enjoyed being the center of attention and she had attitude.

Daisy's favorite things were eating, agility, stuffed animals and traveling. If Daisy could have had things her way, she would have eaten all of the food I was giving to my three American Bulldogs in addition to her own food. When it came to training, Daisy was highly treat-motivated so she was easy to train. Daisy excelled at agility and she always wanted to be moving. She was not the type of dog who wanted to sit in my lap and be held. Daisy adored stuffed animals and always curled up with one of her stuffed animals when she went to sleep. Her favorites were her stuffed Easter bunny and the lion that roared. She had lots of stuffed animals because almost every time I saw a cute stuffed animal, I would bring another one home.

I love to travel and Daisy was the perfect travel companion. Because of Daisy's small size I was able to take her places I could not take my American Bulldogs. As soon as I pulled my suitcase or her travel bag out of the closet, Daisy would get really excited and start running in circles around the house and up and down the stairs. She knew we were going somewhere. Daisy traveled with me all over Colorado and to places like San Francisco, Sante Fe, Washington, D.C., Annapolis, Las Vegas, Orlando, Houston and Memphis. Daisy was a frequent flier and she especially loved airports. During the almost 9 years that I had Daisy, I only flew somewhere without her one time. Daisy always behaved perfectly at the airport. When I got ready to put my belongings through the x-ray machine at the airport, I would take Daisy out of her bag and she would stand motionless on the table in her perfect little "show-dog" pose. People would often ask me if Daisy had to be sedated to fly and I would tell them “No, she just knows the routine." When we arrived at our destination, I would occasionally let Daisy out of her bag while we were waiting on the luggage to arrive and she would stand right next to me and follow me around just like she did in the agility ring. Daisy also loved hotels. One of her favorite things was jumping back and forth from one bed to another in the hotel room. If we stayed in a really nice hotel, Daisy was so well-behaved that she just seemed to belong there.

Daisy was an incredible little dog who was so active that she seemed to pack 15 or 16 years into the 8 ½ years that we were together. She introduced me to a lot of people that I would never have met otherwise. There was never a dull moment when Daisy was around. I didn't realize that the little dog who tagged along on all of Lily's chemotherapy appointments had cancer also. It just seems especially cruel and ironic to have lost a dog that was as intelligent as Daisy to brain cancer. "Daisy Crazy Baby" I will always love you. I will never forget you.