I arrived home today; they say that Home is where your Heart is, but my heart isn’t here and I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be anywhere because you aren’t. You aren’t here anymore and I simply can not imagine life without you.
The doctor said it would happen fast, the sudden change from you being the Lexie we know to the Lexie we don’t. Even after both operations to remove the Mast Cell Cancer, you rebounded immediately. In fact, that is how you have always been. A stick of dynamite I’d say. You would surprise every doctor that met you with the energy you possessed. People that would meet you found it hard to believe that you were undergoing Chemotherapy, Radiation or had just come back from one major surgery or another. You always had energy.
The doctor said it would happen fast and it did. One day you were Lexie, full of energy and excitement. The very next day you weren’t. Mommy and I hoped you would rebound, but you didn’t. We could both tell that you were in pain now. One day you were here – then you were gone.
Coming Home
I remember the day we both met. It was a warm and sunny September day. Your future mommy Arlene, my girlfriend at the time and I had seen an ad in the newspaper advertising a single female Yorkshire Terrier for sale. I had looked at other dogs, but I could not make a decision until we went to see you. I can’t tell you why, I just wanted to come see you. So on that sunny September day we jumped into my car and drove up to see you.
We arrived in the driveway of an average looking house in a typical suburban neighborhood. I had been looking specifically for a female Yorkie since my Dalmatian had passed away about a month before. I’d always had medium or large dogs as some call them. Dogs that were 40 lbs or larger, but this time I was looking for a little Yorkie and for a very specific reason.
Before I met you, I met Arlene. a pretty blonde petite woman with two dogs. A giant 167lb all black mixed breed named Frisco and a little Yorkshire Terrier named Scrappy. Everyone that knows me knows that I love dogs, all dogs, but small yappy dogs never appealed to me. I thought of them as frail, high strung dogs that were owned by women who would spoil them by carrying them around everywhere in their Gucci pocketbooks and dress them in silly fru fru outfits. Scrappy, as you remember, was nothing like that. Scrappy was the toughest little fur ball I’d ever seen. He ruled Frisco and there was nothing he wouldn’t or couldn’t do. It wasn’t long before I started taking Scrappy with me. We’d go snow plowing in the truck, or hiking in the woods. We’d take him shopping, on trips to Vermont, to work and just about anywhere we could. This was also at a time in my life when I wanted to start traveling more myself and it wasn’t long before I realized just how perfect Scrappy was. He was a portable pooch and I knew then that my next dog would be a Yorkshire Terrier and I was going to travel with this new dog.
So there we are in the driveway. Arlene and I walk to the door and ring the bell and the door opens up. In the hall is a gated area and there are three dogs in in. Two are going nuts and one is being kind of shy hiding up against the wall and staying out of the way of the other two. I soon learned the other two rambunctious ones were males and the quiet one in the back was you, the female. The woman bent down and picked you up and placed you into my hand. You literally fit inside the palm of my hand.
I held you close to my chest and tilted my head down to see you. You licked my nose and snuggled up against my chest. I handed you off to Mommy and she snuggled you for a moment as well. I had looked at other puppies, but there was just something about you. Had you chose me? Had I chose you? Was the feeling mutual? I don’t know, but I wanted you. I didn’t need to see anymore puppies. It was you whom I wanted. Walking out to the car with you I had you sit on Mommy’s lap as we drove 45 minutes back home, but before we went home, we took you shopping. I bought you a crate, bed, toys and food as well as a book on raising and training Yorkies. Then we took you home.
The early years
Over the next few weeks we got to know each other. You would humor me with your antics like learning how to escape your playpen by climbing up the gate to your crate to get on top of the crate and then climbing the wall of the playpen until you were at the top. Then you would balance for a second and then jump onto the couch that was next to it. We would wrestle on the couch two or three times a day. You would roll onto your back and I would give your belly a zerbert. I’d also playfully bite your ears and you in turn would do the same, to my ears and nose. It was this playfulness that led to our first connection. You were biting a bit hard on my nose with your sharp puppy teeth and I said rather sharply, “Easy”! You didn’t stop biting, you just bit – easier. I never taught you that command or even knew it could be taught, you were still very young, just weeks old and yet you and I connected. From there on, a bond began to form with you understanding my language. This, of course, was in addition to all the commands I was teaching you in “puppy school”. Do you remember Puppy School? Every night before dinner, you and I would spend 30 minutes learning things about each other. Sure, I was supposed to be the teacher, but you were teaching me at the same time. Even to this day, I tell all new dog owners about Puppy School. I firmly believe that it is far better to have 6 months of schooling, even homeschooling as in your case, and a lifetime of happiness rather than spoiling a puppy for 6 months and being rotten for a lifetime. Well you my sweet heart were a blast to teach. You made sure than even in school, we were having fun and you never failed to put a smile on my face, but I do have a confession. Those treats I was giving you was really your dinner food, but I think you knew that. I could never outsmart you.
Thinking back to our time together in those first few months, two things stand out to me. You were fearless. Big dogs didn’t scare you though Frisco was a gentle giant. Perhaps you would have felt differently about big dogs if he wasn’t, but he loved playing with you. I can still picture it clearly, that night Frisco was chewing a large bone that you wanted. The bone was bigger than you, but size never stopped you. Nope, you went right up to his giant mouth as he was chewing away on the giant bone and you began to pull it away from him. That’s when Frisco showed how much he loved you. He opened his giant mouth and you stuck your entire head in there and pulled out that giant bone. No fear, nope, not for my Lexie.
As I said, you and I were always supposed to travel. Travel by sail boat actually. From the very day I took you home, you and I were supposed to live on and sail on a sail boat. That is why I trained you to use a litter box. Most people were shocked to find out I trained you to use a litter box. I’ve never trained a dog to use a litter box before you but you sure made it look easy. When I first had the silly idea, I figured that if people could train cats, I could train you. You already learned how to use it when I found out that cats don’t get trained, its instinct for them. For you, it was anything but, yet you still got the hang of it rather quickly. I’m chuckling right now remembering how we would all be hanging out on the couch watching TV, or as you were eating dinner and then you would just run out of the room, down the hall, into the back room where I kept the litter box and use it. That use to bring me so much joy because that was quite a feat for you to learn and overcome basic instinct. Even more so, I could bring the litter box anywhere and show you where I put it and then you would go find it when you needed. You were very smart.
The New House
Mommy and I always had a special relationship and even when thing didn’t work out with the two of us, we always made sure our problems never interfered with your relationship with her. This was important when you and I moved north to the new house. Making sure you and Mommy would still get to see each other often was very important to her and I, to her and you. She loved her little Peanut.
Soon you were making yourself right at home in the new house, but it wasn’t without its problems. You, my sweet little girl, still had no fear. You would chase the herd of deer off the property, chase the rabbits around the trees, when a coyote would howl in the woods out back, you’d run toward them barking. I fenced in our deck to keep you safe on the deck when I could not be watching you in the yard, but you, having learned the art of escaping early on in your life, you soon found out how to escape. I’m smiling now looking at the picture of your butt up in the air as you squeeze under the bottom rail.
The first time you gave me a heart attack was when we were out working in the yard together. I was mowing the lawn and you were looking for chipmunks. A big storm began to approach and it was getting dark fast. I finished up and then went to get you, but you were nowhere around. My heart sunk, I was starting to panic. You always came when I called you. You never went outside of the boundaries I would establish with one of our special commands –Too Far, yet you were gone. I ran to the neighbors, they hadn’t seen you. I ran into the woods behind the house. I looked everywhere. You were gone. Before panic could overcome me, I began to think – THINK LARRY! THINK! And I thought, thought about what you were doing; Chasing chipmunks around the yard, around the wood pile. The Wood Pile! No! No?
The storm was moving in fast, the sunlight was gone, the wind had picked up and in the distance was the almost constant thunder from repeated lightning strikes all around. This was a bad storm. I had to find you. I had to save you from whatever happed. I had two giant piles of logs ready to be cut and split. I hit the first pile and began lifting these long lengths of hard wood and making a new pile with them as I lifted them one by one by hand. I was filled with adrenalin and enthusiasm as I just knew you had to be stuck in that pile, but my enthusiasm sunk when I reached the last log and you were not in there. The second pile would be much more unlikely. These were large log rounds just tossed in a pile. They weren’t stacked. I could not even imagine you getting into it like you could of around the other pile. My heart sank, but I carefully began to move this pile too. I had no other option. You had now been missing for over an hour. I couldn’t stop, not now so I jumped on the pile and began tossing the large rounds off. One by one, closer to the bottom I got and closer to the middle of the pile.
The storm was now here, but I was not going to stop. I moved log after log. One log was stuck and I had to relocate to another section to get it free. I pulled off one log and threw it aside and as I turned back around to grab the next, I saw them; your black little eyes and that beautiful little nose. You could not move. I have no idea how you got so far into the middle of the pile of lumber, but there you were. Now things got difficult. I had to stabilize the large logs to make sure they did not shift and crush you. Slowly and carefully I removed logs from all around you until finally I could lift the one right on top of you and set you free. I scooped you up and ran into the house just as the big storm arrived directly overhead and the heavy wall of rain hit. I held you so close, kissing your little head and telling you how you just took five years off my life.
You went on to give me a few more heart attacks, but I had you figured out. Do you remember when you wiggled your way under the shed and then got stuck? I had no idea you were really under there, but I had gotten good at reading you and I had a hunch you went under it. I had to empty out the entire shed and then very carefully cut and remove the plywood making sure the blade did not penetrate the wood in case you were under where I was cutting. Yep, there you were. You did it again to me and then after that I just left the floor loose so I could lift them up to get to you, but you never went under there again. You liked doing things like that to me. Always keeping me on my toes.
Born to Ride (part 1)
We never did get to sail the world or make good use of that litter box, did we? But we soon learned something else about each other. We both liked to ride motorcycles. I had been riding for years before you were even born. I hung up my helmet after an accident in 2001, but I never said I was giving up riding, just taking a break.
The day I spotted that Orange and Silver Harley Davidson Electra Glide Ultra Classic sitting on the side of the road for sale, you were riding Shotgun in the front Passenger Seat in our Yukon. I was pulling the construction trailer to a new job and there it was on the side of the road. I called your Mommy to talk me out of it, but she didn’t. She actually talked me into it. Your Mommy and I use to ride all over on the old motorcycle and like me, she too was missing it. Well you remember the day I got it, don’t you? Back at the house, I grabbed your carrier, the one that would strap to my chest so I could carry you and keep both hands free on the sailboat – the sail boat we never got. I put that on Mommy and put you in it and then took you both for a ride around the block. You did so well, no fear as usual, so I then put the carrier on me and we took another ride around the block. You liked it. If I remember right, we went for Ice Cream on that ride. Mommy stayed over that night and the next day I was going to head to work on the bike. I said good bye to you both and headed out to the garage. I started up the bike and was about to back out of the garage when the door to the house opened and you come running into the garage. You made a bee line straight for the bike and began scratching at my leg in your “I want up” fashion. I reached down and scooped you up and placed you on my lap. I look up and your Mommy is in the doorway smiling. I shut off the bike and she tells me that as soon as you heard me start it, you ran down the stairs and wanted into that garage in the worst way. I laughed and said to Arlene, she likes to ride.
That began something I never imagined. When I bought this motorcycle, I expected to take day trips here or there. Ride up to the family vacation house three hours north in Vermont perhaps. We tried carrying you on the bike to see if we could take you along because by this time in your life, you would not tolerate staying home alone so you always came to work with me or Mommy. Seeing how much you loved riding opened a door. A huge door, but I was yet to find out how huge. You and I began taking day rides here and there, overnight to Vermont and Back. We’d been riding about 2 years when one day I took you camping. You did great despite the rain. I soon realized that I was not fond of the Harley as it broke down a lot on us. I was always fixing something on it as you looked on. If I were near the bike, you too were near the bike.
When I bought the used Honda ST1300 off Craigslist we began to ride a lot more; you, me and Mommy. I soon realized that I needed a better system to carry you. I needed better rain protection for you and having you mounted on my chest would cause me to become overheated on the summer rides as all my cooling vents were blocked by the carrier. I searched around and there were a couple of companies making motorcycle specific carriers for small dogs, but they all put the dog on the back seat or worse, the back luggage rack. I could not take up the back seat since your Mommy liked to ride with us sometimes and I was also quite uncomfortable having you out of my sight. Perhaps you weren’t the only one suffering from separation anxiety. Right now I can assure you that my separation anxiety is a big issue. So I set out to build one for you. I studied the lines of the bike and thought about making one out of fiberglass and putting it on top of the gas tank. Then one day I saw someone riding a motorcycle with a giant tank bag. The tank bag was almost the exact shape I was looking for.
That June we went up to the Americade in Lake George NY., it was your first Americade, remember that? I looked high and low for seat ideas for you and then we stumbled upon the Twisted Throttle’s booth. We brought the bike into the booth and they took to task of finding you the perfect size tank bag err seat. They would place one on the bike to see if it fit the shape of the bike and if it did I would put you in it to see how you fit. It didn’t take long to find the perfect one. Most tank bags were held on with magnets and I didn’t like that for you, but this tank bag would clip to a special ring that got mounted to the bike. It could only come off if I pulled a lanyard to disengage the locking pin. It was perfect. I loved having you right in front of me. It was so easy to keep an eye on you and you on me. You took right to the new carrier. You had room to move around, lay down and stand up. The public also took right to you sitting in your new spot. You were a hit and thus began Lexie’s Adventures. I think this is also were our bond began to grow much closer than anything I ever experienced before.
A Little Sneaky
I still remember sneaking you into the first restaurant. You were just a tiny pup and Mommy and I wanted to go to breakfast at IHop. Daddy use to love going there once in a while, but with you in our life now, I could not leave you home and I was uncomfortable leaving you in the car because people like to steal dogs. So what were we to do? Sneak you in.
We stuck you in Mommy’s pocket book and carried you into the restaurant. We asked for a booth, but they were crowded so we were put at a table with a bench seat against the wall and a chair on the other side. I sat on the bench and put you next to me in Mommy’s pocketbook. You weren’t a yapper like most puppies or little dogs and you were always comfortable sitting next to or on me at home even if I was eating, but this was a new experience. Mommy and I were nervous but you were doing great. Then the waitress came over and I guess you were curious as to whom we were talking to. As I placed my order the waitress’s eyes got really big and her mouth dropped open. I then looked down to my left to see you looking out from where I put you. Your little head just barely peeking above the table . I gently pushed your head back down and you obliged. I then held my finger to my lips and said shhh to her. She smiled and asked us about you. She didn’t tell anyone and you were very good. You were rewarded with some bacon when we were done.
You became a pro at sneaking into places with me. It was a necessity on the motorcycle, but you and I went everywhere together. Bars, Restaurants, Movies and even a Nightclub, though you weren’t supposed to do that one Peanut.
Our first movie we ever watched together in the movies was Marley and Me. You were doing great until one part where the dog Marley barked and well, you barked back. You weren’t a barker, but I think you fell asleep and he woke you up. Your Mommy and I were hysterical because everyone around us looked at me. They could not see you, but clearly heard a dog bark. I shrugged and said “Surround Sound”
The first time you went with me to a restaurant on the motorcycle was quite funny too. I hadn’t quite perfected this sneaking around thing with you just yet. This was a big event taking place in Bennington VT. We’d be riding 3 hours to there and then having lunch with a bunch of other bikers. Most of whom already knew you as a lil biker dog. Mommy and I devised a plan to place you in a small duffle bag. We set up a bed in there for you and a water dish. I got off the bike, placed you in the bag, zippered it up and carried it in. It worked like a charm. I place the bag at my feet and unzippered the top so you could pop your head out, get some air and I could feed you.
Everything was going great. It was a huge gathering on the top floor of the restaurant. Lots of people were talking about you being there though the staff didn’t know. One person came over to see you so I slid back to let them see you in the bag, but you weren’t in the bag. At some point you had decided to stretch your legs and went for a walk. I quickly got up and looked around, but I didn’t see you. I had to start asking people and this would be the first time I realized just how you fit in with humans. People had seen you walking by and never even gave it a second thought. You walked across the restaurant to the other room. I found you in there visiting others. I quickly scooped you up and brought you back chuckling all the way to my seat.
It wasn’t long before Daddy got some better riding gear which enabled me to start sneaking you into places inside my mesh jacket. We developed a new game for this. I would tell you to “hide” and you would go into the jacket and just lay down across my waist with the bottom of the jacket holding you in, you could easily see out and no one could see in. I could eat an entire meal with you sleeping in there always knowing you would get something good when I was done.
Some of the places we went, there was no need to “hide” You and I loved these places. Restaurants with outdoor patios, hotels that charged us pet fees, campgrounds. It was at these places where people really got to see how amazing you were.
I remember we were out in Kansas one morning and you and I walked from our room to the Breakfast Bar. You were off leash as you always were with me and the two of us walked down the hall past many people who stopped to check out this little creature happily trotting down the hall with her Daddy. We walked into the Breakfast Room and I put you on the seat of an empty table in the middle of the room. A room filled with other travelers; Businessmen and women, families traveling here or there, all sorts of people.
I grabbed some bacon and eggs for you and pancakes and bacon for me. I placed it on the table directly in front of you and then returned to the breakfast bar to get coffee and Orange Juice. As I walked back to the table people began to talk to me – about you. They were shocked that bacon and eggs were inches from you, easily within your reach and you didn’t try to eat them when I walked away. You became the conversation of the whole room. I smiled and told them that you were waiting for me. I sat down and gave you a nod and then you ate your breakfast as I ate mine. One of them said out loud to the others in the room, “ She’s better behaved than my kids” I could not disagree with them. It was true, you were indeed, better than most children. As the people finished, they would come over and say Hi to you.
Do you remember when we went to my Alumni Party? By now you had long ben use to big crowds. We were at so many biker rallys, fund raisers and campouts. You were quite use to walking around off leash in large crowds and keeping an eye on me as I did you, but that night at the alumni party. We were outside on the patio of the hotel. You were making your rounds visiting people and I saw you heading to the right; I didn’t see you make the u-turn and head toward the door of the hotel. A hotel with an automatic door! I immediately started asking people if they saw you and just like the restaurant incident in Bennington, they said yes, you went into the hotel. I ran into there, still in disbelieve that people could see you and not even question it as you walked in. Another person said they just saw you in the Nightclub. You had made an immediate right turn because that’s where all the people were and you wandered around the bar and headed toward the dance floor. That’s where one of the staff picked you up as I made my way through the crowd. That still makes me laugh because you were always dancing with your Mommy to that kind of music and you probably wanted to dance.
Daddy sold the bike
It took quite a lot of people by surprise when I suddenly hung up my helmet one day and quit riding. Only two people know the real reason behind that event. I never even told you, but I will now. Every biker eventually crashes. I had crashed twice before you entered my world. Do you know, you traveled over 60,000 miles and visited 28 states and 1 Canadian province on the motorcycle? If we add in our VW Bus trips, that figure rises greatly, but this is about the bike. With that many miles logged I was beginning to get worried.
One day you and I were riding back from Rochester NY headed home on a 5 hour ride when I got a flat going through some fun twisties. Remember we had to put the bike on a trailer and get towed home? It hit me real hard right then and there that there would soon be a time where you and I were going down and I could not envision you surviving even a minor get off, let along something big. I could not figure out how to make it safer for you in the carrier. I analyzed multiple videos of people crashing their bikes. There was no way to protect you in a crash and the fear became paralyzing to me. A rider can never become paralyzed with fear when riding and if I could not shake the fear then I had to hang up the helmet. I told everyone that it was because we were moving onto a sail boat, which we were supposed to do.
I sold the bike and all my gear rather quickly, but not your carrier. It took everything I had to sell that carrier and I honestly felt as though you were asking me what I was doing when I packed it in the box. You were on the edge of the couch watching me put it in there. It was killing me to do it, but I didn’t believe in just hanging onto things for keepsake. That wasn’t me.
We never bought that sail boat. The deal fell apart. I had sold my businesses in New York. Sold our house prior to that and here we were…stuck in Vermont, but Daddy did buy that kayak and modified it for you to ride with me, just like I had done to the Mountain Bike only you didn’t enjoy the kayak as much as you did the motorcycle. You did enjoy the Mountain Bike, but riding the motorcycle was still your favorite and anytime you heard a motorcycle, you would get excited.
Good times in Vermont
It didn’t take long for us to start enjoying Vermont. It sure was good for me. I was outside riding the mountain bike with you or kayaking with you just about every day, Spring, Summer and Fall. Winter we began Cross Country Skiing and Snow Shoeing. Life was good, great actually. Then I bought that VW Bus.
I envisioned you and I traveling all over the country again in the VW Bus, just like we did on the motorcycle, but this time we’d be protected from the weather and camping would be easier than it was on the bike. Daddy was digging this Hippie Lifestyle too.
I’ll tell you a secret. Daddy was scared when you and I flew to San Franscisco CA and then Reno Nevada for the bus. I wasn’t sure how you would react to flying, but you took it like a champ – as always, and you made me feel better since I had to take care of you and not worry about me. I am glad I took that video of you watching the plane take off. I will enjoy watching that as well as the one of you sleigh riding or riding the motorcycle. You always make me smile.
We had such a great time driving that bus up along the California coast to Victoria B.C. and then back across the top of the US. Having you as my co-pilot was comforting. If things started to get stressful, all I had to do was look to my right and there you were, sitting up high in your seat hanging from the seat back. You’d look at me and no matter what was happening I’d have to smile back at you. With you as my co-pilot, life was always great and nothing could get me down.
You amazed people just as much in the Bus as you had on the bike. People loved seeing you hanging out there in your passenger seat. My Shotgun rider, riding along enjoy life on the road.
Daddy’s fear of an accident became true, but I never thought it would happen in the Bus. That night scared the hell out of me. When the screeching of tires, crushing of metal and shattering of glass stopped I looked over and saw you still in your seat. Though you looked at me like – what the hell just happened – you were all right, the bus, not so much. I would never have had imagined that that was our last bus trip. I would never have even thought about selling the bus, let alone having to sell it. But that is what happened.
The News
That damn annoying little bump on your leg. Mommy and I had planned on having it removed in March when the weather was better – warmer – so you didn’t have to be bothered by those sub zero temperatures here in Vermont, but when you and I got back from the Romp to Stomp out Breast Cancer Snow Shoe fundraiser at the end of February and I took off your gear and discovered that little lump had grown 5 times its size in a day. I will be honest, I was scared. I imagined all sorts of things. A major operation, you might lose your leg. This was going to be a big surgery, would you survive it? All kinds of things, but never, never did I imagine what was in store for us.
Never did I imagine this was the beginning of the end.
The next day I brought you to the Emergency Vet here in Rutland. I could tell by his face that it wasn’t good. OK, I’ve already imagined the worst. Then he gave me the news. CANCER! Mast Cell Cancer to be exact and he referred us to a specialist 2 hours north in Vermont. I brought you up there to Peak Veterinary Referral Center in Williston VT. You and I had been to Williston VT once before to buy a trailer for Daddy’s tractor. This time wasn’t going to be as much fun.
I could not imagine that hearing you had cancer could get worse. It did! You had an aggressive form of Mast Cell cancer and we had to operate right away. Amputation wasn’t even an option as it was a systemic cancer meaning that there would be more than one. If not already, soon.
They just kept delivering more bad news. They told me you only had 3 to 6 month to live with aggressive treatment. Less if we don’t do anything. I could not fathom this. You were 11 yrs old. You were supposed to be like your brother Scrappy and live to 16 or 18 years. You and I still had a lifetime ahead of us. I always knew there would be a time you would go, but you’d be an old girl, having lived a full happy life. Not now. NOT NOW! We scheduled the difficult surgery and I called your Mommy to get to Vermont ASAP. A few days later the operation was performed.
As you always have, you made it through the surgery with flying colors. You always recovered from surgery well though up until now, the only surgeries you had had were to be spayed as a pup and then when we would have your teeth cleaned. This surgery was much bigger and you weren’t expected to heal well, but you would show them. They also showed me…another Mast Cell was discovered post-surgery. They said that one would be inoperable. We were now referred to one of three hospitals. Boston MA, New York NY or Montreal CA as these hospitals offered Radiation and Chemotherapy. After some discussion, your Mommy and I chose the hospital in New York City since it was easy to get to from her house in New York and if we did Radiation, we would have to go there every day for weeks.
The Treatment
Once the doctors at the Animal Medical Center in New York City saw you, they were confident they could operate on the second Mast Cell even though the hospital in Vermont said it was inoperable, but they also found a third. It seemed that with every week that passed a new Mast Cell tumor was popping up. This time you underwent two operations at the same time and again, you pulled through it like a trooper.
After consulting with the doctors there in NYC and your old doctors back in Westchester County New York, we decided against Radiation for you. Radiation would have required you to be put under Anesthesia every day for weeks which was dangerous and Chemotherapy would treat your entire body. So Chemo it was and we elected to have it done at your old doctor’s office, Katonah Bedford Veterinary Center. Mommy and I liked this place because they knew you well and we liked the staff there. They always treated you great even though you were always nervous going in there. The hospital in NYC was just too big, too scary and too cold. They had so many patients to deal with, they wasn’t much time for consoling or comforting and most of the staff at Katonah Bedford Veterinary Center had been trained down there.
Return to Moonshine
When we began riding, one of our first big trips West was out to Moonshine, IL for the Moonshine Lunch Run held the second week of April each year. It was our second year there that your picture made its debut into Rider Magazine in a story written by Scott ‘Bones’ Williams.
I was now feeling very guilty about not riding with you these past two years and you had so many friends out at Moonshine which always fell during Grand Ma, Grand PA and Aunt Dawn’s birthday week. When Grand PA texted me that this year’s party was postponed because they were sick, I pulled over and immediately called your Mommy and asked her if she would help me surprise you and your friends with a visit to Moonshine. The only problem was that it’s a two day drive out there, but it was happening tomorrow morning. That meant we had to drive non-stop to arrive there in time. Your Mommy, the trooper that she is, with only 3 hours’ notice, rescheduled her appointments, packed up and awaited our arrival.
You knew something was up when I rushed back home and packed us up here in Vermont. We then drove 4 hours south to pick up Mommy before heading west to Moonshine, IL. It was tough, your Mommy and I were exhausted. We kept tag team driving. Sometimes we could only drive 20 minutes before having to switch with the other, but we got you to Moonshine one final time.
Born to Ride (part 2 )
Having been back to Moonshine with you, I now felt compelled to get you back on a motorcycle for our remaining days. I wanted to give you everything. Not long after Moonshine, I found us a bike, but now I had to find and build another carrier for you. Oddly enough, I was able to get in touch with the man who bought your carrier. He was no longer using it and he was very generous and gave it back to us.
I remember arriving back in Vermont with you to see the big box sitting on our porch. I immediately opened it and placed it on the ground. You went right over to it. I put it on the bike and placed you in there. I could swear you were smiling. You stood up high and proud.
We began riding again. Unlike before, we didn’t set out exploring the country, but we explored all the dirt roads together. We even went camping again, though I could tell that was rough on you so we stuck to day rides here and there. We took Mommy riding with us again too.
Our time on the motorcycle was a time when you and I didn’t have to think about Cancer, Chemo or what would be. It was you and I and exploring the world around us. For a moment, Life was Good again.
The Battle
April turned to May turned to June, July. You were beating the odds. We had been told you would probably not make it to your 12th Birthday, but August was right around the corner. August arrive and so did you birthday. Mommy and I were ecstatic. Our Peanut made it to her 12th Birthday. We all celebrated with Steak.
You handled every treatment we threw at you and there was a lot. Our life was a roller coaster now. Treatment would progress from every week to every two and then BAMN, the cancer would come back and we’d have to start over. You were officially in Remission twice, but that damn cancer would find its way around the Chemo drugs and we’d have to start over. As soon as we took you off one Chemo drug the cancer would come back strong until the new Chemo drug would battle it back.
I was, we were living one day at a time. I would not plan on anything other than tomorrow. I couldn’t. I didn’t – didn’t want to think about the future. I tried to keep everything positive. I surround you with positive energy and hope. I didn’t want sympathy from anyone. We were in a battle for your life and I could only focus on winning that battle. Nothing else mattered to me but you.
You were fighting it strong. Always full of energy even after receiving Chemo, you’d come home and rest for a bit and then were right out there chasing squirrels and Chipmunks, going on long walks with Mommy and motorcycle rides with Daddy. You weren’t letting anything get you down.
On top of the Chemo, you were on a barrage of pills. You tolerated me pilling you all day, every day like a champ. I was truly proud of you for being so brave. I don’t know that I could have done it without you, but you would stand there on the counter and wait as I shoved pill after pill down your throat. Dispense horrible tasting meds into your mouth and then when we were done, I’d put you down on the floor and you would be all excited. You truly possessed a positive attitude through this whole ordeal.
Out of Remission
It was the appointment where we would be increasing your treatment from every two weeks to every three weeks. This meant that for the first time, you and I and maybe even Mommy could go on a long motorcycle ride. I began to think of tomorrow. I told Mommy that I would like it if she would come out West with us. Thanksgiving was coming up and we’d have three weeks to be on the road.
Then we were hit with the news. We wouldn’t be going to ever three weeks. The cancer was back. You had been out of remission before and we would regroup. Your Oncologist Dr. Sahora- Andrews, would put together a new battle plan and we’d go after it again, but this time it was different. No, we’d be stopping Chemo. At the time we thought we were only stopping it until we could try another plan. We had to let the chemo drug clear your system before trying something new, but one week off Chemo and the cancer hit back hard this time. Real hard! The small tumor on your front leg grew fast and furious in a few short days. By the time we got back to see Dr. Sahora-Andrews she was worried. She suggested we try Radiation to attack this tumor directly and hard. We were referred to the Veterinary Cancer Center in Norwalk CT and made an appointment to see them first thing the next morning.
The next morning we left the house very early. You were still sleepy when we hit the road, but we had to get there first thing if they were going to treat you that day. The doctor saw you and after examining you, he felt he could help even given its size. It was dangerous, but we had to try – for you. We had to give you every chance you earned.
We were to come back at 11am for your Radiation Treatment so I took you and Mommy to the shore. It was then that I realized you and I had been here before. We went kayaking here this summer with a couple of guys from the Kayak Club. Remember when you and I had spent a week down here kayaking? We went twice on the Long Island Sound and once on the Hudson River. I took you and Mommy for a walk along the beach and pointed out all the places and islands you and I visited that day. Then we went back for your treatment. Mommy and I were scared, but as usual, you handled it beautifully.
Again, we had hope.
Daddy’s Birthday
I was fully prepared early on that you and I would not get to spend another birthday together when I had first gotten the news. Now here we were, my 51st Birthday and you were still with me. Still fighting, still living, still loving. We also loved the unseasonably warm weather in Vermont and I could not pass up the opportunity.
I had originally been unsure what I wanted to do for my Birthday. Had talked about doing a lot of different things, in the end, it was just you and I in Vermont alone and it was a beautiful warm day so I suited you up and then myself and we went riding all day. It was a beautiful day. Just you and I out doing what we did best; we were Enjoying life. We rode back and forth over Vermont’s Gap roads through the Green Mountains, visited some parks and water falls, a covered bridge.
As you always did, you attracted a little crowd when we stopped in Montpelier for a break and you had to take your medicine.
Oh GOD little girl, that was our last ride! It will probably be my last ride as I don’t think I can bring myself to get on that bike again. Right now I can’t bring myself to do much of anything.
You gave me a wonderful birthday present that I will never forget.
The End
We were scheduled to have more Radiation on Christmas Eve. Then you and I would head back to Vermont and spend Christmas riding as it was supposed to be in the 60’s again, but over the weekend I noticed the rather dormant tumor on your back had now grown rather quickly. I also felt two new masses under your belly. You were kind of out of it too. Still walking around, but you seemed a little foggy.
I called Dr Sahora-Andrews and we moved up your appointment to see here, from Wednesday to Tuesday. When she saw the mass on your leg had continued to grow even with two doses of Radiation and the mass on your back growing quickly and more masses showing up, she told us what we feared. We were not going to get this under control with Radiation and the one Chemo drugs left were too dangerous to give you in your now fragile condition. She figured we would have a week or two at best.
Your Mommy and I were heartbroken. We cancelled all future treatments and would let you relax and enjoy the remaining days. That was the night of December 22nd. The next day you were no longer yourself. You could not climb the steps or jump on the back of the couch. When the squirrels came to the door, you just looked at them. You loved to chase them, but you had no more chase left in you. The cancer must have been destroying you inside now. That night we went to bed and you struggled to breath. You could not get comfortable lying down and your Mommy and I knew what we had to do.
We called Dr Sahora-Andrews the next morning and made the appointment we did not want to make, but I the day I took you home I swore that I would protect you and give you a wonderful life. A wonderful life you lived my Peanut and now an incurable pain was trying to take its grasp on you and we could not let that happen. You had fought this with your all. We were out of options and out of time.
Mommy and I took you for a walk by the lake near her house. You seemed to perk up a little out there, but you were still slow to move and foggy. We then headed to the Doctors office.
I knelt down on the floor and you were on a warm blanket on the table in front of me. I held you in my arms as Mommy held you from above me. We were holding you so tight. I could not take my eyes off you. We could not stop crying. You must have been so scared looking at the two of us crying uncontrollably. . Then you went to sleep for the last time in our arms.
You’re really gone
It’s been three days since you left us little Peanut but Mommy and I, we’re broken. Our hearts have been ripped from us. We can’t move forward. Nothing makes sense. Even while I sit here, now back in Vermont, writing this letter to you. I look up as I would always do to see you sitting by the fire place, but you are not there. When I arrived here I went to fill your water bowl before I realized I didn’t have to. I went to make dinner and I opened the cheese to put on the salad. I turned around expecting you to be running over for your share, but you weren’t there. How am I supposed to sleep without you under my arm? So I took your favorite bed to bed with me and held it there and played the TV loud to cover up all the noise in my head. Mommy isn’t doing well either. She’s still waiting for you to text her like you always did when we got back to Vermont. She can’t stop crying, I can’t stop crying.
How can we go on now that you are gone? You were our life. Everything we did for the last 12 years was for you, about you and with you. We’ve both lost dogs before, but this is nothing like before. It feels like we have lost our child, not a pet. You were never just a pet to us.
Please show us how to move on now that you’re gone.
We both love you so much. You are forever part of us.
(update March 3, 2016)
Yesterday marked a new beginning for me. After a month of research the day was here when Lexie and I were reunited. Never to be torn apart again and now truly – A part of me.
Yesterday I got my very first tattoo, but this was no ordinary tattoo. This tattoo contained her ashes. I’ll be writing about this in an upcoming article.
I am truly sorry for your loss, Larry… praying for strength and peace for you as you walk through terrible grief and loss. May the sweet memories of your many shared adventures help to bring some comfort.
I am so sorry for your loss, what a wonderful tribute to Lexie. Many tears ago, I had to put my yorkie to sleep for the last time, she was 13 years old, had an operation and the Drs said there was nothing more they could do for her. My heart was broken, I cried everyday. My Mom couldn’t stand to see me cry anymore, so for Christmas she bought me my Bella, who is now 10 yrs. old. My Mom passed away the year after she bought me my Bella, as she wasn’t here for her 1st birthday. she has brought me many years of happiness. She is my baby, she was the last present from my Mom. Just pray that God will give her the strength to go on. i will keep you in myprayers.