I wrote in my last blog entry that I got sick on December 6th. Well that nasty stuff lasted for about a week. After the main symptoms went away, I was exhausted for another 2 weeks after that.

The dogs can always tell when I don't feel good. I don't know what it is, but they can tell. Maybe I don't talk to them as much, or maybe I don't get up and move around as much, but they always know and try to comfort me.

The Thursday night after I first got sick I was laying on the couch watching television, when Sugar came upstairs to see what I was doing. She acted exceptionally cheerful and basically tried to climb up in my lap., which she normally doesn't do. She wanted to cheer me up. So I sit up and rub her all over, which she really loves. I wanted to let her know I appreciated what she was trying  to do. She is such a sweet dog.

As I was rubbing her, I kind of reached around behind both of her arms, petting her on her shoulders. That was when I notice something. Both sides aren't the same. Behind her left elbow was a huge lump, about the size of a walnut. Oh crap! A wave of panic goes through me. I continue to pet on her, but I'm extremely worried. What a depressing find.

The next morning I made an appointment with the Vet and took Sugar that afternoon. The Dr. thought it was a hematoma, a blood blister of sorts. She drained the lump with a syringe, but it wouldn't all go down. After draining there was still al lump in the middle. The Dr. said she thought it would go down, but if didn't, to come back in two weeks. This lump really worried me, so I said, "how about I come back in a week".

So the next week came and I took her. The lump was full and stiff again. We agreed that it needs to come out, what ever it is. So the next Wednesday, Sugar had surgery to remove the lump. The Dr. removed the tumor and as much tissue as she could. The resulting incision was about 6 inches long and ran across her elbow.  This turned out to be a difficult place for stitches, I had to change her bandages about 5 times a day and Sugar had to wear an Elizabethan Collar (looks like a lamp shade) to keep her from tearing off the bandages, licking the stitches and opening the wound.

Even though the collar helped her wound heal, she didn't understand why I had to put the collar on her. She thought I was punishing her for something. She started getting depressed. I just felt awful.

A week later on December 28th we got the pathology report on the tumor. It was cancer and it was malignant. The next day the Dr was able to talk to an oncologist. There was some not so bad news and some bad news. The not so bad news is that this kind of cancer has a 20% chance of metastasizing. A 1 in 5 chance could have been worse. However, the bad news was that this cancer has a 90% change of coming back, and coming back more vigorously than the first time.

We have two options, neither real fun. Amputation or radiation treatments.

I will do anything for my dogs, I love them like they are my children. I guess non pet or non dog owners may not be able to understand that, but I do.

And I do mean anything. I don't think I said this here before, but Timber was actually the reason, the motivation, for my starting my own company, moving back home to the mountains, and building my house.  Coming home to my apartment in Atlanta everyday, to see this wonderful, vibrant ,and alive creature, having to spend his days locked in a small room, wasting his life, killed me. I couldn't stand it. I didn't want to be reason he just wasted his life away. So, this got me in gear, and my software company and mountain cabin is the result. ...So I mean it when I say I would do anything for my dogs.

Given the permanence and severity of the amputation option, I decided pretty quickly for the radiation treatments. I was offered two choices of places that could perform the treatment ,NC State University or Auburn University in Alabama. NC State is not going to be able to take us right away, but Auburn can. So I had the Dr. start the wheels turning on getting us to Auburn.

Needless to say the New Years weekend  was not a very happy holiday for me. On Sunday night, as the ball fell in Times Square and the new year came, all I could think of was, "Thank God this awful December is over".

As the first week of the new year progressed I started to feel a little better. Sugar got her stitches out and started to act like her old self again. Running and playing and trying to make me happy again. I started to think that maybe I can get Sugar though this and everything will be OK after it's all over with.

Then came January 4th. Thursday was a typical day around here. After the whole trauma of Sugars surgery and resulting bandages,  E-Collar, and the news of the cancer, it was so nice to be back to normal. I got out and played with the dogs in the globally warmed winter air and just enjoyed them. It was so nice to be back in our usual routine. All the dogs where happy. I go back to work.

My friend Kenny was up this week, cutting brush on the Ranch. He came in around  6:00 and I was still working, so he let the dogs in from the front porch and feeds them. I was surprised that Timber hadn't notified me that I was late feeding them. He usually starts his "I'm hungry, It's dinner time!" bark around 5:30 as it gets dark. Anyway, they come in and eat, and afterwards Kenny takes them out for a walk. 

I keep on working, trying to finish up something I've been working on for days. Around 7:30 Kenny goes to take a shower in the downstairs bathroom. He just get's downstairs when he calls up to me saying Timber is acting funny. I go downstairs to find Timber standing  in the corner of the bathroom with his head next to the toilet.

I thought, that's strange, what's he doing? I call for him put he doesn't come. I go over to him and try to get him to come but he doesn't want to. I kind of coax him into the bedroom and he just kind of stands there not responding. I start to get a little worried, but I don't see anything really wrong with him. So I stay with him to see if he's alright. He keeps trying to hide his head. Once in the bedroom he goes behind the bed and puts his head in the corner. I think this is not good. I stay with him. He acts sort of normal, but sort of not. He then lays down, but starts not acting so normal. I'm talking to him but he doesn't seem to be hearing me. Then he tries to get up. I try to help him up, but he can't stand. Then, he has what I can only assume is a seizure. His body goes ridged and he starts howling this awful, horrifying howl. With this I just about pass out from panic.

I yell for Kenny but he's already coming. He heard the seizure. I tell him to run out and get my truck out of the garage, we've go to get Timber to the emergency animal hospital now! After the seizure Timber is just laying on the floor not really responding, but breathing really fast. I try to keep from losing it. I see Kenny get the truck out and I pick up Timber and take him out to the truck. As I put him in he has another seizure.

I get in the truck and tear off to Asheville. Thank God Kenny was with me this night. He was able to hold and comfort Timber as I drove through the poring rain. I called ahead and told them we were coming.  I called my sister to let her know what was going on. She said she was coming over.

Timber had another seizure. ...Each time he had one it was so awful. I though it was his last moment...

I called again when we were just a couple of hundred feet from the hospital and asked them to meet us out front with a stretcher. As we turned off into the hospital parking lot he has another seizure. By the time I got out of the truck Timber was just lying in the back seat not moving with his head now in the floor. He was breathing, by just barely.

They rushed him to the back and started IV. The doctor came out and said it didn't look good. He barely had any blood pressure and his gums where white, which indicated he was losing blood internally.  He was continuing to have seizures This time I did lose it...

About this time my sister and my dad arrived. I was so glad to see them. We all sat in a small exam room, waiting. I heard Timber have another seizure. I lost it again. After some amount of time, I don't know how long, the doctor came back into the room. She said, they where having to give him valium (I think) to keep him quite and relaxed, even though he was probably still having seizures. He had stabilized a little bit, but that I need to decide what I was going to do. I asked "What do you mean?" She said that she didn't know for sure what was wrong, but that it was very, very serious.   ...She basically wanted to know if I wanted to have Timber put to sleep at this point or to proceed with much more aggressive and expensive treatments. I said to do what ever is possible!

At this point I went back to see him. We was laying on the table with IVs and breathing oxygen through a mask. His eyes where open, and they looked at me. I can't describe the pain that went through me in that moment...

I petted and talked to him and told him I loved him. I tried to comfort him all I could. Knowing that this could be last time I see him. Then I completely lost it again. I could believe this was happening... but it was.

The Dr. then took him for X-Rays. I went to back to the room and broke down. In a while, I'd lost all concept of time, the Dr. came in with the X-Rays. She found that his spleen had a strange shape on it and there was a huge amount of blood around it. She said it was probably a ruptured tumor on his spleen. If so, his outlook was very bleak. She said I really only had two options euthanasia or exploratory surgery. She said she did not think he was strong enough to survive the surgery. If it turned out to be a ruptured tumor, the cancer would have spread into is abdominal cavity. She said usually in these cases, if the patient survived the surgery, they would not survive for long. The cancer would spread and in two to three pain filled months we would be right back where we are now. I told her we have to give him a chance. I had to give him a chance.

I called my friend and neighbor Barbee, who is a PA (Physician Assistant). I wanted her to listen to the diagnosis the doctor had for Timber and see if I was missing something. The way I was feeling and thinking I could easily be missing something. She talked to the doctor and basically had the same thought I did. It's really impossible to determine what was the best thing to to.

As the Dr went to prepare for surgery, I went to see Timber. He was a little more out of it. His eyes where still open and he looked at me when I spoke to him, I could tell he was seeing me from far away through a drug induced haze. I prayed for him. I petted him. I told him he was the best friend I could ever have and that I loved him. I went back to the exam room and cried like I haven't cried since my mom died.

As we waited the hours went by. By this time it was about 12:00. My brother-in-law called and told my sister that my 5 month old nephew, Jacob, had woken up and was having a major meltdown. I told Leisa to go home to Jacob. I would be alright.

Around 1:00 am, Me, Dad, and Kenny moved to the waiting room were we just talked. I could tell Dad was very, very tired. He was getting over the same sickness I had had and had gotten up at 5:00 this morning and worked hard on the construction site all day. I know he was there be with me and I wanted him to be, but I was worried about him being able to drive home, especially in the rain. So I told him to head home and I would let him know how it went.

About 15 minutes after Dad left, a nurse came out and asked me and Kenny to come to the back. We put on a mask and went into the operating room. There was Timber with about an 18 inch incision down his belly. The doctor wanted us to see the situation. It was time for me to make a decision...

It had turned out to be a ruptured tumor on his spleen. He had lost a lot of blood and was needing a transfusion right now. She wanted to know which way I wanted to go.

This was one of the worst moments of my life. I had to decide right this very moment the fate of the best friend I had ever had. The longer I waited, the less chance he had. I don't want to remember all the things that I had to stand there and weigh.

I had to try and figure out what the future would be like down the path of each of the choices. Here he was right in front of me, breathing, still alive. How could I take that life? But what would his life be like if he survived the surgery. Would he recover and get back to his old self? Would I have him back for another couple of years? Would he be in pain? Would he still meet the same horrible fate in a few months after a lot more suffering. What would our life be like. I would be able to take Sugar for her radiation treatment. The Dr still wasn't sure why he was having the seizures, would he continue to have those?

Time ticked on. I watched the doctor continue to sew up his spleen. I continued to watch him breath. I had to make a decision right now, and there was no going back either way I went.

In the end I had to try to think of what would cause him the least amount of pain and suffering. I never thought I would make that decision. After I signed the consent form, I went over and said my last good bye to him. I felt so chicken shit. I couldn't bare to stay and see him draw his last breath. Kenny said he would stay with him. I looked at him one last time. I walked out into the rain and cried. I cried and cried. I was losing a part of me that I had had constantly with me for 15 years, right this very moment.

When Kenny came out I lost it even more, we just got in the truck and cried. I could still smell him in the truck...

I don't really remember the trip home. Somewhere along the way I called Dad, Leisa, and Barbee and let them know what had happened. Later as we got home, I remember getting out the truck and just losing it. 5 1/2 hours after we left we were back and Timber wasn't with us. He would never be here to greet me again. I looked up at the front yard, just 11 hours ago I was playing with Timber right there. As I walked in, Sugar an Bandit jumped up, on us glad to see us, then started looking around for Timber, I broke down.

All I can say is that the night was a nightmare. I was in shock and had grief so deep I can't express it. After Kenny and I got home we sat watching TV, not seeing, just lost in grief.  2:00, 3:00, 4:00, the nightmare hours crept by. Somewhere along the way I fell asleep. I woke up around 6:00. I woke up Kenny and told him to go to bed. I walked Sugar and Bandit, loved on them a while, then I went to bed. I didn't wake up until 1:00pm.

The days that followed where awful. I can't believe the support of my family and friends. That Friday (1/5) was a dark and rainy day. Matching exactly my inner feeling. Kenny said he wanted to build Timber a casket. He had some cedar lumber stored in my garage, so he started to work. I laid on the couch and well you can guess. Barbee spread the word of what had happened, and my wonderful neighbors responded, bringing food and help. Neighbors Carol and Christina brought some great food. I hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before and the food was good.

Later in the evening, Carol drove Kenny back over to Asheville to get Timber and bring him home. I should have went. I should have brought Timber back for one last ride, but I couldn't. I didn't know what he would look like now. I wanted to remember him as he was...

Kenny had to leave before he could finish the casket. Gary, Christina's husband, came over and helped me finish it. Gary works in construction and one of his specialties is installing natural shaped Rhododendron branches for hand railing and pickets. He brought four natural shaped Rhododendron handles for the casket. Gary helped me late into the evening and this after getting up at 5:00 am and working a whole day on the construction site. It tuned out to be a beautiful thing.

Saturday, dawned clear and warm. It felt like a warm April morning instead of January 6th. At noon, my Dad, step mother, Sister, and Gary came. Me, Kenny, Dad, and Gary starting digging the grave. I had chosen the spot years ago. It is up above my house. Looking down across the meadow beside the house and on out across the hay meadow.

We loaded Timber in the back of my truck and I drove up to the base of the hill behind the house. Then Dad, Kenny, Gary, and I each got a handle and carried him up the hill. This was quite a haul since the casket with Timber in it probably weighed over 250 lbs. It was a slow procession up the hill to the grave site.

We ended up having a funeral. This was not something I had planned or thought about. I had known that one day this would come, but other than a rough idea of where I would like to bury him, I had avoided all other thoughts of it. As it turned out, with my family and friends there, it all just sort of came together. Each person contributed a part, as a way to remember him. It was respectful and a tribute to a dog that meant a lot to a lot of people.

The house has seemed absolutely empty without him. It has seemed darker and it is quieter. I can look around the house and still easily imagine what he would be doing, how he would sound, what he smelled like. We had such a routine, such a happy life together for so long, that I continue to see and hear it go on. I have to keep remembering over and over that he is not there. But I can imagine him right there.... For the first time my house is not a happy place. To me it is sad and filled with memories that are, at least for now, painful to remember. It is almost haunted. With our dark, gray winter days, it has been a hard place. It has been a hard winter.

Timber, as usual my friend, you are out scouting ahead of me. Don't worry, I'm following your tracks in the snow. I'll catch up with you soon and I'll be with you again. We'll romp and play, and you'll welcome me with a smile and a lick. After we've worn each other out, you can go to sleep with your head in my lap.

 And we'll never have to be apart again.

It took me a week and half to finish the above entry. Tonight I finish it from Auburn Alabama. Sugar, Bandit and I made it down off our cold and snow cover mountain today, to come far, far out into the flatlands. If everything goes OK, we may be here for a while. Tomorrow, Wednesday, is another day I've been dreading. Sugar has her initial exam here at Auburn University. He will be put through a whole battery of test with the most critical being a CT scan. If the scan is clear, she will have her first radiation treatment Friday. If the cancer is found elsewhere no one is really saying what would be next.

I'm afraid to look too far into the future anymore. For a person who likes to plan and be prepared, the future looks pretty uncertain. I don't know what the future will hold. I'm hoping that after our month stay in Alabama, this hard winter will be over. 

I guess there is the vague distance promise of Spring....