Time after time

I can’t believe that a year has passed since Jasper left this world.

I saw a friend post a message today saying her four-year old dog had passed away from cancer, and all the emotions came flooding back. My heart really goes out to her and her family tonight.

I still think of Jasper quite a bit since there are reminders everywhere I go – seeing his purple toy in the basement, driving by the Minnehaha dog park, finding one of his old blankets tucked away in a drawer…

It all seems so strange still.

So, one year on, what am I surprised by? This is going to sound strange, but I’m surprised (and happy) I survived.

Jasper’s death came at the end of a really rough three years where I lost my mom and both my remaining grandparents.

If anything, I learned I can take the full frontal blow of adversity and come out standing on the other side. Sure, I have my days, but don’t we all?

I’ve also learned to really enjoy the little moments in life like taking Zooey for a walk in the woods, playing board games with my nephews or sitting quietly reading at night.

Jasper taught me so many things in the nine years he was with us. As I wrote before, for most of my life I was terrified of dogs. Jasper erased that fear and taught me to love all animals more than I thought was possible. He also taught me that sometimes best friends have four legs, a tail and a wet nose.

Over the past few months I’ve tried to go back and read a few of the entries here, but I’m not quite ready for that yet. I’m a little embarrassed by how raw the writing was, but more than that the rush of emotions and memories is still so strong.

I want to close what will probably be the last entry on this blog by saying a few things.

To V and Zooey – thank you. We went through this together, V, so you know just how tough this was. Zooey, you were always, and still are, the light of our life.

To everyone who read and commented on this blog – thank you, too! If you’re going through a similar situation now or in the future, trust that you will survive. And the memories do get happier with time.

To Jasper – I love you, buddy, and I still think of you every day. You were my best friend and the best dog any family could ever hope for. You had such a gentle soul. I loved every moment we spent together (even when you were a puppy trying your hardest to destroy the house). If there’s a heaven, then mine is a place where you and I can skip rocks and play in the water all day long.

Good-bye, dear J.

Mmm, peanut butter

I had a spoonful of peanut butter tonight and it made me think of you and smile, J.

Miss you.

4-2=2

It’s funny, but a year ago at this time there were four of us roaming around the house – Veronika, Jasper, Zooey and I.

Back then all of our focus was on Jasper because he was recovering from the surgery that removed the initial cancer tumor and parts of three ribs. Despite his condition, he remained strong throughout. What a brave dog he was!

Since that time, Jasper lost his battle with cancer and Veronika has moved over to Europe to study for the next eleven months, so that just leaves just Zooey and me. Where there were once four, now there are two.

Someone asked me today if I’d be lonely this year. I’m sure there will be times when I feel that way, but as I sit here typing away I’m smiling.

You see, I’m not alone. There’s a rambunctious creature named Zooey roaming around the house.

Photo: Zooey-Roo in her “let’s play” pose

I commented in an earlier post that I wasn’t completely sure why Zooey the rescue Vizsla came to be with us, but now I know.

She’s a bundle of joy and she’s becoming my new best friend.

I’m sure most pet owners (and gasp, parents!) wouldn’t admit this, but some of us have favorites. Jasper was my favorite. He was here first. His personality – calm and introverted – suited me perfectly. Over time we became best friends and did everything together. Zooey on the other hand always kind of felt like V’s dog. They trained together, ran together, sat on the couch together. Sure, I loved Zooey, too, but it just wasn’t the same.

But now… now that’s all changing. I’m really enjoying getting to know Zooey. I can’t believe she’s seven and a half because she’s still hopping around like a puppy! If I don’t take Zooey out running almost daily then she’s bouncing off the walls.

She’s pretty darn cute, though. I love how she wants to play all the time. And she always seems so happy! Plus she’s great with people and really has fun with my nephews.

So, this is the year of Zooey and I hanging out and getting to know one another. I think we’re off to a pretty darn good start.

Even if she does drive me crazy sometimes!

Tags: Dog, Minnesota, Pets, Vizsla, Zooey

The days in between

Think back to the really great days in your life. What comes to mind?

The moments that flash by for me include getting married, seeing U2 outdoors for the first time in Sweden, skiing at Big Sky and hiking with Jasper along the Mississippi River.

What about all the other days in between? Are we really living or just getting by?

I don’t know why, but I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.

Photo: A perfect day in the mountains

It’s been almost two months since Jasper passed away, and I still think of him every day. Even when I wake up in the middle of the night, I think, “The house sure is quiet without Jasper here.”

I took my first walk in the woods alone today. I loved being outside breathing in the cool winter air, but I couldn’t help thinking how different it would have been if Jasper was there with me. It was strange looking down and not seeing him walking beside me.

Before sitting down to type tonight, I went back and re-read a few of my old posts. Wow, I feel a bit embarrassed because they were pretty raw and revealing. I’m thankful to have a record of Jasper and all that we experienced, though. I’m also thankful that new readers are continuing to visit this blog on a daily basis.

To those of you who are going through a similar experience, hang in there, be strong and lean on others if you need to. It’s hard to believe during the darkest days, but it does get better.

In some small way if this blog can help someone else out there, then it will have been a success.

p.s. Zooey is doing great and keeping us super busy! I mentioned this before, but for two Vizslas, she and J really are (were) opposites. Jasper slept at the foot of the bed, Zooey naps next to Veronika’s pillow. Jasper would only eat his food if we sat perfectly still. Zooey would keep eating if a marching band walked through the kitchen. She’s a sweet girl, though (even if she is kind of driving us crazy tonight)!

A Tribute to Jasper-Roo

Veronika and I never imagined a dog could mean so much to us, but Jasper was much more than “just a dog.” He was a part of our family, and he was my best friend.

I don’t know if and when I’ll post on here again, so I wanted to write a final tribute to our dear J. I have to admit I’ve been putting it off for several weeks. This blog became such a part of Jasper’s life, that I’m afraid when I stop writing we’ll lose another piece of him. Who knows, maybe the “The Adventures of Jumping Jasper-Roo” will become “The Adventures of Jumping Jasper-Roo and Zooey, too.”

But, I’m not going to worry about that now. Today’s entry is a celebration of Jasper’s life and all the things we loved and miss about him.

Thanks for sticking with us on this journey. Thanks for the kind words of love and support. And thanks for reading.

For Jasper’s tribute, we have included a collection of our favorite photos and jotted down some memories spanning the course of Jasper’s nine years with us.

Photo: Jasper’s first night at home, October 2001

We finally made it home after a long, stressful journey from Fargo with Jasper howling from his crate on the backseat for most of the way!

As you’ll see, even as he grew bigger and bigger, sitting on the couch with us was one of J’s favorite things to do!

Photo: Our first family portrait, Fall 2001

Photo: V and Jasper on the way to puppy class, Fall 2001

Being a shy dog, Jasper never really cared that much for the puppy socialization class. Most nights he’d just hide under the table while the other dogs played. Eventually, he came out of his shell and played with another puppy or two.

Photo: Jasper and “Panda” – his first favorite toy

Photo: Como Lake, Fall 2001

This was Jasper’s first trip to the lake; long before he learned to love water as much as peanut butter and mini carrots. I still really like this photo because he has such a “Jasper face” in a really small body.

Photo: J’s first Christmas, 2001

Jasper was always there with us for family gatherings. He was never content to just chill on the floor, though. He always tried to climb onto someone’s lap to see what was happening up in “people land.”

Photo: Jasper and Tomo, 2002

As I’ve said before, Jasper was the calmest Vizsla in town. Unless Tomo was around! The two of them would wrestle and bite and chase each other around the yard for hours on end. Tomo, an Akita, eventually grew four times as big as Jasper, but they were still best friends for a brief time during Jasper’s youth.

Photo: J with Jon, Jody and their dog Chip

This shot was taken on J’s first road trip – a five hour drive to see our friends in South Dakota. Chip was also a youngster at the time and the two of them wrestled around the basement most of the night. Needless to say, Jasper was totally spent for several days after the trip.

Photo: Jasper and Todd, 2002

This is one of my all-time favorite photos of J. As the years went by his hair turned whiter and whiter, but when this was taken he was a youngster with a gorgeous red coat.

Photo: A hot summer day, 2003

When J was younger we’d often go to meetings of the Twin Cities Vizsla Club. I remember this particular gathering was on an especially warm day. I love the expression on J’s face because he seems to be saying, “This is it? This crappy little pool is the best you can do?”

Photo: Everybody in the water, 2003

Jasper was an excellent swimmer, but the “yum-yum yellow” life jacket made it easier to lift him in and out of my parents’ boat.

Photo: Best friends, 2004

Zooey arrives! As I previously blogged, Zooey’s arrival in the spring of 2004 turned our tranquil abode into a mad house. Zooey was all-play, all-the-time. This was a rare moment of calm for both dogs.

Photo: Jasper, Zooey, Sebastian and mom at White Bear Lake, 2004

This is another one of my all-time favorite photos. My mom is really the one who taught me to love animals. She also loved our dogs just about as much as her grandkids!

As I mentioned before, due to a childhood incident there was a time when I was terrified of dogs. One of Jasper’s greatest gifts was to help me overcome that fear.

Photo: It’s only Rock n’ Roll, 2004

Since I’m a drummer, Jasper grew up in a rock and roll house. Veronika used to tell me that during our loudest jams in the basement, he’d be sound asleep on the couch. No wonder Jasper never minded thunderstorms or loud noises too much.

Photo: Nap time

Like most dogs, Jasper really enjoyed sleeping. After he was house-trained, we let him sleep outside his crate at night. I think we’d read something about how “dogs will find their own place to sleep in the house.” Jasper’s favorite spot was the living room couch.

Each morning he’d sneak into our bedroom like a little kid. If he had to go outside, he’d quietly walk over to my side of the bed and rest his chin two inches from my face until I woke up. Most mornings, though, he’d hop onto the foot of the bed and wiggle his way into a nice, comfy spot right between V and I.

If Veronika was traveling, Jasper would usually just skip the couch all together and sleep on the bed with me. Throughout the night, he’d get up and then crash down closer and closer to me. By morning he’d be all sprawled out and I’d be lying on the last sliver of the bed just about to fall over the edge!

Besides the couch and our bed, he particularly enjoyed sleeping outside in the sun. As soon as the temperature got comfortable enough in the spring, he would seek out a sunny spot in the back-yard for a nap. Throughout summer and fall, on sunny days, he could often be found sleeping on his side in the grass in the yard.

Oh, and Jasper was by far the loudest sleeper in the house. He could snore with the best of them. During his last night with us, I remember waking up several times and just listening to the sound of him sleeping.

Photo: Minnehaha Dog Park, Winter 2004

Remember how I said Jasper loved water? No, he REALLY loved water! So much so, that he’d hop in and go for a swim in the middle of winter. See that white stuff in the photo? That’s ice and snow!

Speaking of snow, J absolutely loved playing in it – and digging in the drifts!

Photo: Road Trip!

Lucky for us, both Jasper and Zooey loved riding in the car.

Photo: Wisconsin, Fall 2007

V and I and the dogs visited a lot of dog-friendly cabins over the years, but one of our favorites was a little B&B called Justin Trails outside Sparta, Wisconsin. The place has acre upon acre of fields, forests, hills and hiking trails. And a gorgeous little private cabin!

Photo: Hiking in Wisconsin, 2008

Photo: Exploring the north woods near Ely, Minnesota

Photo: Who’s walking who?

Jasper was great at a lot of things, but walking on leash wasn’t one of them! He never really figured out the whole “heel” thing. In this shot, my dad’s boat – and the water! – are a couple steps away, so we had a little extra motivation to get going.

Photo: Lake Superior, Spring 2010

Looking back at this photo, I remember this was a particularly bittersweet trip for us.

During the spring of 2010, J’s cancer was under control, but we still knew this was probably going to be one of our last trips together. Veronika and I and the dogs spent a wonderful weekend hiking and relaxing along the north shore of Lake Superior.

Photo: Minnehaha Dog Park, Summer 2010

Jasper just loved the dog park! After awhile, whenever he heard the words “dog park” he’d start bouncing around the house and barking.

“We’re going to the dog park! We’re going to the dog park!”

In an attempt to avoid the frenzy and barking, we soon switched over to calling it the DP.

Photo: Minnehaha Dog Park, Summer 2010

Jasper was the perfect friend for an introvert, and the Minnehaha Dog Park was our sanctuary. It became one of my favorite places in the world. So much so, that I’m not sure if I can ever go back there again.

Jasper, Veronika and I probably went to that dog park more than 500 times over the years. We loved the peaceful wooded trails, the long stretches of sandy beach and watching the seasons come and go.

When it was just Jasper and I, we’d walk down different paths and explore in silence. If there is a heaven, mine has a sandy beach where I can sit on the shore and watch Jasper swim until his heart’s content.

Photo: Making a new friend at the Minnehaha Dog Park, Summer 2010

Photo: Resting at home, Summer 2010 (photo by Sarah Beth Photography)

Vizslas are affectionately known as “velcro dogs” because they always want to be near you, and Jasper was no exception. He would always follow us around the house and whenever we sat down he wanted to be right there next to us.

One of his favorite things in the world was to sit with V or I on the living room couch and chew on his purple toy. Can’t tell you how many of those toys we went through over the years, but I have to say it’s one of our favorite memories and something we really miss.

Photo: Another perfect day in the backyard, Summer 2010 (photo by Sarah Beth Photography)

Vizslas are part of the sporting breed, so it’s no surprise that Jasper loved to chase after everything from tennis balls and sticks to rocks (thrown in the water) and snow balls (that disappeared in the snow!). The part about bringing it back, well, that’s another story.

Photo: Veronika and Jasper share a tender moment, Summer 2010 (photo by Sarah Beth Photography)

Photo: Happy Dog! (photo by Sarah Beth Photography)

Photo: Veronika, Todd and Jasper (photo by Sarah Beth Photography)

While the last year of Jasper’s life was extremely difficult, in some ways it was also our best year together because it was filled with moments of pure joy. He was so incredibly brave and strong throughout the whole ordeal. More so than I probably would have been. Throughout his life, Jasper brought such love and light into our world.

Photo: Jasper in a reflective moment (photo by Sarah Beth Photography)

Photo: Jasper on his last trip to the dog park, October 2, 2010

I didn’t realize until we had returned home and was flipping through the photos on the camera, that Veronika had taken this shot.

This image really means the world to me.

The photo was taken on Jasper’s last trip to the Minnehaha Dog Park the day before he passed away.

J and I walked these trails so many times over the years. No matter how many times we went, though, I always loved visiting this dog park because of the sheer joy that it brought Jasper. I was never more at peace than when we were off exploring the Minnehaha Dog Park together.

Moments like this are the ones that I’ll remember forever.

Jasper, to us, you were truly the best dog in the world. You had such a gentle soul and were a great friend to both of us. You taught us about patience and perseverance. You showed us how to slow down and look around, and that a pat on the back or a hike in the woods can bring the greatest joy in this world. We both love you very much. We miss you, and we’ll remember you forever, Jasper.

When Angels Sing

Before I post J’s final tribute, there’s one more thing I need to do. I need to write about his last day with us.

Sunday Oct. 3, 2010 was a perfect fall day in Minneapolis. Sunshine and not a cloud in the sky. Leaves burning bright red, yellow and orange.

For three days we’d been agonizing over J’s situation. We even scheduled, and then canceled, the at-home euthanasia the afternoon before. On this day, we knew there was no turning back. The time had come to make a decision.

Jasper was having trouble getting up and walking out to the backyard. In contrast to other lapses, this time there would be no more miracle recoveries. The cancer on his side had burst through the skin and there were several more visible spots that were likely to open up in the near future, including the most recent growth on his head. We had reached a point in J’s disease where things could only get worse.

Around 9AM I picked up the phone and made the call to re-schedule the at-home procedure for that evening at 6:30PM. It was by far the toughest decision we have ever had to make.

That’s not to say we didn’t have our doubts once everything was set in place. Around 11AM, Jasper decided to get up under his own power (something he hadn’t done in days) and walk over to his water bowl for a drink. Veronika even managed to hand-feed him some kibble and a few of his favorite peanut butter treats. “How long can a dog survive on peanut butter treats alone? Are we doing the right thing? Is it the right time?” Sitting around the house and asking ourselves these questions was driving us crazy.

When I returned home after running out to pick up a few art supplies for a memento we wanted to create, Jasper greeted me at the door – something he hadn’t done for days. He certainly wasn’t making our decision any easier.

After lunch, Veronika, my dad and I decided to take J out for one last walk… “one last walk”… it still hurts to type that now.

As always, Jasper enjoyed the car ride. Veronika sat in back and held her cheek to his beautiful gray face while we traveled along. After a short drive we found a nice path leading down to his favorite place in the world – the Mississippi River.

As we approached the water, a strange thing happened. The dog that could hardly stand an hour ago started to pull Veronika toward the river.

We always said that we’d know it was time when Jasper no longer showed an interest in water. I guess sometimes in life there’s no such thing as “clear signs.”

As we moved closer and Jasper got stronger, I turned to my dad and said, “See, he’s alright. Can’t you see that?” He responded by saying something I’ll never forget.

“I hope I spend my last day in this world doing what I love, surrounded by people I love on such a beautiful day.”

Jasper enjoyed a few playful moments in the water and walked along the wooded trails. For a little while he seemed “normal”, but on the way back to the car it was clear he was in pain.

Photo: Jasper near the end of his last walk

So, back home we waited and agonized some more. I swear it felt like getting ready for an execution given the mood in the house.

Veronika and I took turns lying on the floor with J. It was clear that the trip to the river had taken the last bit of his strength because he was completely knocked out, sleeping on his side barely acknowledging his surroundings.

At 6:30PM, the doorbell rang. The doctor was here.

Veronika greeted her at the door and started crying.

I have to say given the situation and our general condition; Dr. McComas from Minnesota Pets was great.

She sat down on the end of our bed with Jasper, Veronika and I and calmly discussed J’s condition and the euthanasia process.

She asked us if either of us had gone through this before. Veronika said “no”. I flashed back to all the dogs I’ve known throughout my life. The ones who disappeared, were hit by cars, went to live with other families, etc. This time was different. This was our first dog.

We told her we’d been struggling with the decision for days. She said this was normal.

We asked for her assessment of his condition. She said her objective analysis of J’s situation told her it was time. For a moment, this brought us comfort.

A little before 7PM, she started the euthanasia process by giving J a heavy sedative.

Veronika and I held him close and told him he was a good boy and that we loved him as sleep set in.

The doctor asked us if we were ready before giving him the final injection. Everything in my body was saying “no”, but I nodded “yes”. Veronika said “yes”, too, and so she gave him an injection that would stop his heart.

At 7:14PM, he stopped breathing.

A few moments later, the doctor turned to us and said, “His heart has stopped.”

I still can’t believe that after nine years together, he’s gone.

Once the doctor left and Veronika and I pulled ourselves together, we carried Jasper out to the car for the drive to pet crematory. The city was mercifully quiet and the roads were dark and desolate as we traveled in silence.

My dad, who had been with us all day, drove, while I sat in the back holding Jasper in my lap one last time. He looked like he was sleeping peacefully. It was a final tender moment together that I’ll hold in my memory forever.

Veronika and I opted for a private cremation, so Jasper’s ashes are back with us now and sitting on the mantle with sympathy cards, mementos and pictures from his life. Even though his physical presence has left this world, we take comfort knowing he will always be with us in our thoughts and memories.

Tags: Cancer, Dog, Minnesota, Pets, Vizsla

Thanks

I just wanted to write another brief note today to say thanks to everyone. All of your comments and well-wishes have really helped us through this difficult time. You made us smile, laugh and cry, too, so I guess we’re even.

The community of dog lovers out there is truly amazing! THANKS! I didn’t know what to expect when I started this blog, but the response has been overwhelming.

Veronika and I are collecting our thoughts (and a bunch of photos) for a final tribute to J that we hope to post sometime this weekend. We’ll also share some thoughts on what we learned from this whole experience. I hope you’ll stop by again to check this out.

In the meantime, give all of your pets a little extra lovin’ and a few extra treats today… and take the time to get out there and explore with your furry friends.

Photo by Sarah Beth Photography

Tags: Dog, Minnesota, Pets, Vizsla

October 3, 2010

Jasper passed away peacefully at home tonight surrounded by family. Veronika and I are completely heartbroken. Thank you to everyone who’s followed J’s story for all the support. We’ll write more in a couple days…

Jasper’s Final Days

(Veronika writing tonight)

I had a comforting thought today… If I write about this moment, it will last forever.

In this moment, Jasper is still with us. He is laying on his side in his crate in the living room with a light blue towel over him to keep him warm. The soft-ball sized cancer tumor on his side is making the towel stick up. As he has been doing for most of the time lately, he is sleeping… but, Jasper is still breathing and he is still with us. We can lie down next to him on the living room rug and caress his head gently and speak to him. We can watch him breathe. Sometimes, we can catch his eye. Sometimes, we notice him gazing at us as we walk by. His eyes are glassy and watery from the pain medication he is taking. He is definitely tired, but he is still with us.

This weekend is probably the single most beautiful weekend of the year in the Twin Cities. The first weekend in October is when the marathon takes place, because the fall colors are usually at their peak and the trees are glowing in yellow, red and orange in the sun. This weekend is no exception.

Thursday afternoon was when I first noticed something had changed. Jasper did not want to get up and seemed to have trouble breathing. When Todd came home, Jasper wagged his tail in his crate, but wouldn’t get up. Things were taking a turn for the worse. The next day, Todd decided to work from home. He called me mid-morning and asked me to come home. Contrary to other times when Jasper wasn’t feeling well, but later bounced back, we knew that this time was different. He had stopped eating, seemed much more tired and in much more pain than at any other time before.

Not knowing if Friday would be his last day, we decided to take Jasper to the St. Croix River. Todd and I had agreed a while back that one of the signs that would help us determine if it was truly time to let Jasper go was if he no longer showed an interest in water… We placed comfortable cushions in the car and took Jasper for a ride. The river was overflowing, but we managed to find a perfect stretch of beach where we could take him down to the water. He was excited as ever, pulled his way down to the water and played with delight (albeit on somewhat wobbly legs) in the water. It turns out that there is no such thing as ‘clear signs.’

After the beach, we didn’t want to go home, so we kept on driving along the river. We made a few stops along the way. Jasper looked out the window and kept his watery eyes open the whole time.

He always did enjoy riding in the car and watching the world go by. Sometimes, just gazing at the sky seemed to give him pleasure. Jasper has always had a fascination with clouds. I remember one of the very first days after we had brought him home as a puppy, he was laying in the grass in the backyard chewing on a stick when he suddenly stopped. It was as though he had noticed the sky for the very first time. Jasper spent a long time (especially for a puppy with a short attention-span) just observing the white clouds passing by against the blue sky.

Another moment that has stuck with me is the first time Jasper went swimming. Todd may have written about the occasion already, but I have the most vivid memories of that day. For most of his young life up until that point, we had tried to gently coax him to step into the river without much success. Then one day, when Jasper was perhaps 8-9 months old, we were walking in the Minnehaha dog park when we got to the beach. It was a windy day and I remember waves breaking against the shore. Jasper went into the water and was caught by surprise when he suddenly realized that he was swimming. He had a panicked expression as he scrambled to get back to shore. He took one look at us… and after a brief pause, his expression turned to sheer excitement! He ran straight back into the water and went for another swim… (and then another one)

This Saturday morning was absolutely beautiful. Todd and I got up a little earlier than we usually do on the weekend, and got Jasper ready for another ride. This time we didn’t travel as far. We wanted to take Jasper one last time to his favorite park – the Minnehaha dog park along the Mississippi River. As we got him out of the car, the air was a little cool, and Jasper was shaking a bit, either from the pain or the cold or both. We walked into the park slowly and let Jasper set the pace. When we passed other dogs, it was as though they understood that Jasper was on a special journey today. They were curious and smelled him, but kept a respectful distance.

The park was beautiful as the sun was shining through the leaves above. The river was overflowing so we didn’t spend much time by the water. Instead, we walked down other well-worn paths that all three of us know so well. At one point, we met a young male Vizsla. The strange dog was bouncy and happy to be in the park. He wagged his tale profusely as he greeted Jasper. He reminded us so much of Jasper when he was young. It was a beautiful moment of coming full circle.

Like the tales of a Native American preparing for his final journey, Jasper walked with slow determination in the park with us. On occasion, he would glance up at Todd, as he always did. On occasion, he would lead the way, as we got close to the water. When we stopped and sat down for a few moments on a fallen tree, Jasper would come up and rub his head against our legs, and give us gentle hugs, as he always has. It was as though all three of us knew that this would be our last trip to the park together, and we cherished every moment on our walk.

Unless Jasper does not wake up in the morning, tomorrow we have to make the decision about letting him go. No matter how much you try to mentally prepare for something like this, it is not an easy decision. Todd and I have gone back and forth on it all day today. On the one hand, as recently as Friday, Jasper showed an interest in water. On the other hand, he is clearly tired, uncomfortable while standing and walking, and not eating much of anything. What ultimately will help us make the decision tomorrow is the realization that we are not the ones to end his life. Cancer pulled the trigger a long time ago. While we can never know how long Jasper would have lived beyond tomorrow, it is clear to us that it would have only been a matter of time.

One thing is for sure. Jasper never stopped loving water – and the only thing we could get him to eat on his final days was peanut butter. Some things never change.

With much love,

Veronika

Tags: Cancer, Dog, Dog park, Minnesota, Pets, Vizsla

The end?

Short post today. I feel the end might be getting close now. We’ve switched J to a new, stronger pain med, but he’s hardly getting up any more. He’s had a little to drink and took a few bites of food, but no more. He did just sit up to look at me, though, so I think I’ll go make him some scrambled eggs and see what happens. Feeling really torn today between carrying on in the hope of a few more good days and releasing him from this struggle. Strange to think that he came home with us on a sunny October day almost nine years ago and he may be leaving on the same kind of beautiful fall day. Wow, time moves fast. More in the days ahead…

Take a breath

I’ve been thinking all week about Eva Markvoort.

Eva was a beautiful young woman who lived in Vancouver, Canada. She also suffered from a horrible disease – cystic fibrosis.

I’ve never told anyone this before, but Eva’s blog “65 Red Roses” inspired me to start “The Adventures of Jumping Jasper-Roo.” You see, she wrote about the day-to-day struggles of living with cystic fibrosis and made it OK to share your thoughts with the world as death crept closer.

Photo: Eva (from her blog “65 Red Roses”)

One entry of hers really stuck with me. Five days before her death while lying in a hospital bed she wrote:

“making the effort this evening to sit up in a chair
good to change positions
stretch different muscles
sending air to different pockets
mum asked what i miss?

i miss walking in and out of buildings
the feeling of air pressure change when you enter or exit a building
i miss getting in and out of cars
how your view changes when you sit at a different height
change really
i miss change…

hours of gasping for breath
waves of nausea lulling out into
hours of sleepiness once the meds have hit
leaving me daydreaming about stepping out of this room
just getting up
free of tubes and plugs
and walking out the door
pushing open doorways
skipping down the street
breathing free
free”

It still brings tears to my eyes reading that today. I’m struck by the last part where she writes about simply walking out the door and breathing in the air. No cares. No worries. How often do we take the simple things in life like that for granted?

I’ve been thinking about Eva and this passage all week because Jasper’s circle is getting smaller and smaller and the outings shorter and shorter.

He used to play in the backyard and then sleep outside in the sun for hours on end. Now he just takes a few steps outside, does his business and walks right back in. We did take a nice walk around the neighborhood tonight that he seemed to enjoy, but mostly he’s just sleeping now. I sense the desire to keep up the fight is starting to slip away. I’m really sad to say that maybe it is for me, too.

My sister suggested I take a photo of J and his tumor so other who are reading this and are in a similar situation can see what we’re going through.

I can’t bring myself to do it.

Jasper was always such a gorgeous dog. In the dog park people would often come up to me and comment on how beautiful he was. Now it breaks my heart to see him being disfigured by this awful disease.

I will say, though, that the tumor started small and grew fast over time. In June it was the size of a golf ball, now the dimension is closer to a softball. The doctor said he’s seen dogs with tumors twice this size, but that’s hard for me to imagine.

Oh, and the skin covering the tumor has now started to bruise and crack and peel. The smell is also pretty bad, so I’ve moved Jasper’s crate from the bedroom to the living room. On top of all this, he’s now wearing an e-collar nearly 24-7 to keep from licking it and making it worse.

This is the part of dealing with cancer that really starts to break your heart. Seeing an animal (or person) you love in decline. The nausea, the loss of appetite, the weight falling away.

I keep asking myself if the time has come to say good-bye, but then I’m reminded of days like Sunday. I took Jasper to one of his favorite beaches on the St. Croix River and he was swimming and chasing rocks just like the old days, albeit a little slower this time.

So on we go. Trying to take it one day at a time. And trying to remember that we’re fortunate to be able to still walk outside and breathe the air, even if the walk is a little shorter and the pace a little slower.

Tags: 65 red roses, Cancer, Dog, Dog park, Minnesota, Pets, Vizsla

How to Disappear Without Really Trying

A day without deadlines. A day without lists. Without responsibilities or places to be.

Where would you go? What would you do? Who would you see?

If you stripped away all the things you should and shouldn’t be doing, what would be left? My wife and I decided to find out – for three days in a row. No work. No to-do lists. No schedule. A “stay-cation” right here in our own backyard. Each morning we’d wake up, browse through the paper or look at a map and go (with the dogs of course)!

Guess what? It was amazing!

Here are a few photos from day three of our getaway.

Photo: Hitting the trail and J is ready to go!

Photo: Peace and tranquility in Lake Maria State Park

Photo: Fall is on the way in Minnesota

Photo: J enjoying a moment in the sun

Photo: The prize at the end of the hike – swimming!

Photo: Happy together at the trail’s end

Tags: Dog, Minnesota, Pets, vacation, Vizsla

All in the Family

While going through an old photo album tonight, I was struck by something I hadn’t really thought about before:

Dogs have been a constant throughout my life.

One of the first photos I came across shows my grandfather, his dog Caesar and me somewhere on Long Island in the early 1970’s.

Photo: Grandpa, Caesar and Todd on a fall day in the early 70′s

My grandfather seldom showed emotion when I was around, but looking at the way he’s clutching Caesar I can feel the love. I was also reminded of something he said that will always stick with me.

Upon first meeting Jasper he commented, “Pets are really wonderful, but it’s so sad when they die.” I’ll never forget seeing the emotion in his eyes when he said the words “so sad.” I didn’t fully understand then what he meant, but I sure do now.

Trapper – the dog that made a cross-country journey with our family from New York to South Dakota – appears in the next phase of my life. I remember playing with Trapper as a child, but I don’t know for sure what happened to him. He was such a beautiful dog, though.

Photo: Trapper and I in the mid-70′s

My mom always loved animals as much as anything in this world. I think that’s why I’m really missing her now because if she was here she’d truly understand how I’m feeling.

For a while my mom bred Cocker Spaniels, so we always had a lot of doggy action around the house. Her favorite – and ours, too – was a sweet little blonde named Buttercup. In the end, Buttercup died a tragic death, but I won’t go into that here.

Photo: My mom and Pepper in the Black Hills (1985)

Shifting gears, more bad news tonight. I discovered a third tumor on Jasper.

This whole ordeal is really starting to take a toll. Sleeping and eating are becoming more difficult. When I’m at work my mind just isn’t there. And I’ve started breaking down at random times, like on the drive back to the office after lunch today.

I know I’m supposed to be enjoying the brief time we have left, but I keep getting caught thinking of the moment we’ll have to say good-bye. It’s all pretty overwhelming.

To end on a positive note, V and I have decided to take Friday off and go on a stay-cation with the dogs this weekend. We have some fun outings planned during the days and then we’ll be crashing back here each night. I hope Jasper’s up for another fun weekend. I know I could use the break.

Good night.

Introducing Zooey-Roo the Wiggle Dog

“What a nice puppy!”

“Puppy?? She’s seven years old!”

If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you probably know Jasper isn’t alone with us in this journey. There’s another dog in the house and her name is “Zooey” (named after U2’s Zoo TV tour, but that’s a story for another day).

Back in the spring of 2003 we were a happy family of three – Veronika, J and I. Earlier that year, though, Jasper’s best friend Tomo – the Akita next door – had moved away. So, one day Veronika comes to me and says, “Jasper, looks so sad. We should get another dog.”

My first thought? “Uh oh, here we go again.”

Photo: Typical shot of Zooey – always on the move!

In what seemed like a flash, Veronika put a word out to the Twin Cities Vizsla Club (yes, there is such a thing). Within a week or two we received a phone call:

“Found a Vizsla rescue dog. Ten month old female pup that needs a home. Todd and Veronika please help this poor little doggy.” OK, maybe I made up that last part, but Veronika was convinced we had to go – now!

So, off to Brooklyn Park we went. Zooey’s first owner was a young guy in his early twenties who soon decided he couldn’t take care of her. She was then shuttled off to his parents, but they were too busy to give her the type of exercise she needed. When we arrived, Zooey was a bundle of energy, but she could barely run because her legs were too weak from sitting around the house all day. When the owner showed us her one toy and ratty blue blanket, we were hooked. Zooey was coming home with us right then and there.

As soon as we got back home, we let her sniff around the yard a bit without J. She couldn’t have been happier! So many new smells and squirrels to torment.

After a while we decided it was time. We slowly opened the door and let Jasper join the party. To our surprise, he didn’t bark or growl. He just bounced around and did a happy dance… “Another Vizsla, another Vizsla!”

That was the last time he was happy for three months.

It soon became apparent that Zooey had wayyyy more energy than Jasper. While he was slowly moving out of the puppy phase, she was squarely in it and wanted to play ALL THE TIME! Poor Jasper. He was constantly being chased, jumped on, run over and chewed on. All the while he had a look on his face that said, “What have I done to deserve this??”

Over time, Zooey started to relax (a little!) and the two became best friends. On sunny days we’d sneak a peek of the two of them chasing each other around and wrestling in the back yard. Still to this day, those are some of my favorite memories ever.

Oh, and anyone who thinks dogs don’t have personalities has never had a dog.

Zooey and Jasper couldn’t be more different!

Zooey is the typical Vizsla – high energy, bouncing off the walls. The usual comment about J goes something like – “He’s the calmest Vizsla I’ve ever seen!”

Zooey is always on the hunt for rabbits, squirrels, birds… J likes to watch the clouds roll by.

Zooey chews her paws, licks her behind, and gets up and down and up and down, while Jasper lays down calmy on the couch and takes a nap.

Zooey’s fur is a light red. Jasper’s is dark. Zooey has a short tail. Jasper’s is long. Zooey loves people. Jasper loves a quiet walk in the park. Zooey puts her toes in the water and hops out. Jasper could swim all day. Like I said, they couldn’t be more different.

There were times over the years when I questioned getting a second dog. Wondered if we’d made the right decision. Now I know. I know why Zooey is with us.

Zooey is with us to provide comfort and love in the days ahead. I sometimes feel bad that we aren’t paying as much attention to her at the moment, but I know the day will come when she’s the star of the house. A time when her bounce and wiggle will bring a much needed smile to my face.

Tags: Dog, Minnesota, Pets, Vizsla, Zooey

And Now Acceptance…

I wrote a blog post back in June that asked, “How long does hope last?”

I now know the answer. Hope lasts until reality kicks its ass.

Another visit to the vet today, and guess what? Yup, more bad news. Lucky us. OK, already, I get it. Can we please catch a break now?!

Jasper has developed another cancerous lump near the top of his head. I asked the doctor about surgery since it’s so small right now, but he said that would cause more pain than it’s worth at this point in time. Reading between the lines, I think he was trying to tell me that the cancer on his side will take him away from us soon, so we shouldn’t worry about this new growth.

This is the point where hope – all bloody and bruised – doesn’t get up to fight reality anymore.

Ahh… it’s not my best day so I’m heading to bed.

Questions I Stopped Asking

I’m sitting down to type tonight while U2 plays on the stereo in the background.

“Hold me now, oh hold me now
Till this hour has gone around
And I’m gone on the rising tide…”

Just about a year ago, Veronika and I were traveling through the desert Southwest on our way to see U2 in Las Vegas. During the first five days of the trip I was a bundle of nerves as we anxiously waited for the results from Jasper’s first needle biopsy.

Outside the entrance to the Grand Canyon, we received a call from our vet. “Inconclusive.” I remember thinking, “Well, that’s better than ‘conclusive’.” On we drove… Veronika, me and my worries.

Photo: Calm on the outside. Stormy on the inside.

You see, I’ve always been a worrier. I mean a hardcore, teeth-grinding, stomach-churning kind of worrier. So, I was surprised – shocked actually – to realize that there were things I recently stopped fretting over. Questions I’ve stopped asking. Such as…

Question 1: Why did this happen to our dog?

This was one of the first questions I kept asking myself. Probably asked this question over a thousand times. After a while acceptance starts to creep in, and then you switch to survival mode. Thankfully Jasper has been up for the fight. For a shy and reserved dog, he is stronger than I could have imagined. We’ll keep going as long as he wants.

Question 2: Was it something we did?

The food we fed him? The city where we live? The water he drank? This one can really drive a person crazy because there’s just no way of knowing. Could be genetics or the environment or a combination or something else. That’s the bitch about cancer. A lot of times you just don’t know what causes it. There’s nothing I can do to change that.

Question 3: How much time does he have left?

One of the vets gave him one to six months to live. That was two and half months ago. We asked another one of our vets the same question two weeks ago. He responded, “Could be weeks or months. It’s hard to know because there are so many variables.”

The last three weeks have been great, though. If it wasn’t for the tumor on his side, you’d think he was a normal dog. Playing, swimming in the river and jumping on the bed.

I’m learning to live in the moment more and more each day. This morning I took J out to swim in the St. Croix River. The temperature was perfect. The setting was perfect. The moment was perfect. I remember thinking to myself, “There’s no place I’d rather be than right here right now.” A second later, I looked up and saw a bald eagle land on a tree branch thirty feet above us. Was it a sign? I don’t know, but it made the moment even more special.

Question 4: Why doesn’t Jasper get to live to be an old dog?

I don’t know why, but I always hoped Jasper would live to be at least 10 years old. He just turned 9. I don’t know what’s so special about 10. I must have read somewhere that the Vizsla’s average lifespan is ten to twelve.

Now when I catch this thought creeping into my head, I’m reminded of one of my best friends. His beloved black lab passed away at the age of three. I’m sure he would’ve given the world for six more years together.

Question 5: How much have we spent on Jasper’s care?

I made the mistake of asking the cashier at the University of Minnesota Small Animal Hospital this question the other day, and the answer was double what I expected.

That’s when I realized it really didn’t matter because we would have spent double that to help J.

It made me sad, though, knowing there are families and individuals out there who can’t afford cancer treatment for their pets. Just breaks my heart, but I’m starting to form a plan in my head to help others in the future. More on that later.

To end on a positive note, this has been a great weekend with the dogs. Hiking off-leash in Battle Creek Park with both dogs on Friday, going for a run with Zooey on Saturday and taking Jasper out to swim in the St. Croix River today. I wish every weekend could be this great, but right now I’m not thinking about the future or the past. I’m just sitting here listening to my favorite band – and the sound of two snoring dogs – with a smile on my face. Perfect.

Tags: Cancer, Dog, Grand Canyon, Pets, U2, University of Minnesota, Veterinarian, Vizsla

Happy Birthday!

Hey, Jasper at the keyboard. What? You don’t think dogs can type? Well, obedience classes are pretty high tech these days, ya know.

Today’s my ninth birthday. I think that’s 63 in doggy years! Wow, I don’t feel a day over 30.

Where has the time gone? Seems like just yesterday I was a wee little pup learning the ins and outs of housetraining. (Between the two of us, I had it figured out early on but liked the extra attention so I kept having “accidents”.)

Anyway, today was a great birthday! After waking up Todd’s friend Jon and doing my morning business in the yard, I had a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs and kibble. Yum!

Guess what happened next?!? Guess, guess, guess!!

We went to my favorite place in the world – the Minnehaha dog park. I just luuuuuuv swimming in the Mississippi River on hot days! I’ll share a few pics below.

I have a strange new thing I like to do in the park these days (gotta keep those humans guessing!). I stick my head all the way under the water and grab a rock between my teeth! Todd thinks I’m going to eat it, but I’m not that crazy. I just like placing the rocks on the shore. I’ll let you in on a little secret. I do it in the hope that the next time we visit the park, Todd will pick up the stone and throw it in the river so I can chase after it. Fun, fun!

After an extra long stay at the park – it’s great being the Birthday boy – I had a yummy peanut butter and jelly sandwich back at the house. Don’t tell Veronika, though. She probably wouldn’t want me eating that sweet strawberry jelly, but I liked it!

Next on the agenda, a much needed nap. Think I slept for about 5 hours. Ahhhhhh…

Todd decided to take Zooey out for a walk. Good idea! She drives me crazy when she hasn’t been out of the house all day. I love my little sis’, but she’s a squirrel-chasin’, rabbit-harassin’, toe-lickin’ maniac when she doesn’t get enough exercise! Plus that gave me a little more time for sleep.

I think I could get used to this Birthday thing because for dinner I ate like a king. I had fresh salmon with potatoes, veggies and some more kibble. Could’ve skipped the kibble, though, and just stuck with the good stuff.

After some peanut butter treats and some back scratchin’ it was off to bed for me. What a day!

Enough woofin’ from me, here are some photos.

Photo: I love riding in the car!

Photo: We made it to the dog park.

Photo: OK, let’s get going!

Photo: Throw the rock! Throw the rock!

Photo: Check me out.

Photo: So many rocks, so little time.

Photo: The far end of the dog park. My favorite place in the world.

Photo: Time to go home.

Photo: Here I am devouring a PB&J.

Photo: Shhhh, nap time…

Photo: Salmon dinner!!

Photo: Phew, I’m tired now.

Tags: Cancer, Dog, Dog park, Happy Birthday, Minnesota, Pets, Vizsla

The Good, the Bad and the Unknown

First, let’s start with the good. Actually, the really good.

Jasper had a wonderful week! If it wasn’t for the lump on his side, you wouldn’t even know that he was sick. He was jumping on the bed, running to the door with a tennis ball in his mouth each time I got home and playing and swimming in the river with no sign of pain. What a change from last week! I can’t tell you how great this makes me feel.

Other than tweaking his pain meds, we really didn’t change anything else this past week.

He even felt strong enough for another 3+ mile hike in Afton State Park on Saturday. Like I said, it’s been a good few days.

Photo: J and Todd chilling out on the couch after a day of hiking

The other nice thing that happened is that we got our first look at the photos we recently took with the extremely talented Sarah of Sarah Beth Photography fame. Her photos are truly magical.

I’m sure when I’m old and grey and enjoying my last days on this planet, one of the photos she took will be sitting by my bedside. Thank you, Sarah!

Now for the bad.

We had another heart-to-heart with the veterinary oncologist this past week. We’re almost certain that Jasper’s latest – and likely last – chemo drug isn’t slowing the tumor’s growth. At this point I’m starting to think that this is some sort of super-mutant cancer. We’ve tried everything we could to slow it down, but to no avail.

During the visit, our vet said something that really stuck with me. He said, “Dogs have mastered the art of living in the moment. They aren’t waiting for the next birthday or Christmas. They only care about what they’re doing right now… and how they feel at that moment.”

This was part of his response to our question about how we’ll know when it’s time to say good-bye.

So, where does that leave us?

For starters, we’ve begun to accept the situation. All we can do now is manage the cancer with pain meds. J is on pretty low dose medication at the moment and he had a great week, so at least we have that on our side. I feel strangely positive tonight given the gravity of our situation. I’m sure all that could change in the coming days and weeks, though.

Veronika and I have also started making plans for the end. We have the name of a vet who does at-home euthanasia. We have the number for a place that handles pet cremation. We’re getting things lined up now because we both know that when the time comes to let go we just won’t be thinking straight.

Which brings me to the unknown.

We still don’t know for certain how this will play out or how much time we have left.

Today was a beautiful day, though, and J had a joyous time running and swimming in the Mississippi River dog park. I’m happy and thankful for that tonight.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring, but while he’s still here I’m going to walk over and give him a good-night hug.

Sweet dreams, buddy.

Tags: Cancer, Dog, Dog park, Minnesota, Pets, Sarah Beth Photography, Veterinarian, Vizsla

Last Night I Dreamt of Snow

In my dream I woke up in the still of the night and walked to the back window. I looked outside and saw snowflakes falling in the glow of the streetlights. As I stood there motionless, I realized there were a pair of eyes looking back at me.

Jasper.

He was standing in the back of the yard under his favorite pine tree with a look on his face that said, “So, are you going to come outside and play with me or what?”

You see, after water, Jasper’s second favorite thing is snow. He just loves everything about it – digging in the drifts, chasing snowballs, chewing on icicles. One of his favorite games is when I throw a snowball high in the air and he tries to jump up and grab it before it hits the ground. He could do this for hours.

Photo: Jasper loving the snow and ready to play.

It’s funny to be dreaming about snow in the middle of summer, though. Maybe it’s this past week of scorching temperatures. Or perhaps it’s wondering if J and I will ever play in the snow again?

I’m not going to mince words. This past week really sucked.

Jasper’s condition got progressively worse as the week wore on. He was in obvious pain when he walked around the house and was starting to withdraw from food. Then the vet told us on Thursday that the tumor had increased in size again. Like I said, it was a pretty crappy week.

At one point Veronika and I actually had “the conversation.” How will we know when it’s time to let him go?

Trust me, it’s one of the worst conversations – and decisions – imaginable. I’m thoroughly dreading the day when that decision will come.

Veronika said we’ll know when we take him to the river – his favorite place – and he’s no longer interested. Then it will be time.

If that’s the measure, then as Veronika said, “He’s not done yet.” On Friday night and Sunday afternoon, we took him to the river and both times he couldn’t wait to get in the water.

I should be thankful, right? Yet, I find myself thinking of all the things we’ll never do again.

He’ll never chase a tennis ball that I launch 50 yards with the “super ball tosser.” He’ll never race up and down the stairs on my dad’s boat. And he might never dig a hole so big he can bury his head in the backyard drifts after a massive snowfall.

I have to adjust my perspective on his life now, and that’s difficult. I have to realize that he’ll have a good 30 to 60 minutes of walking or swimming followed by nearly 10 hours of sleeping. This is the “new normal.”

You know, sometimes it feels strange sharing all this personal information with the world. I have one more thing to admit, though. I’m scared. We’re on to one of the last treatment options possible. If this doesn’t work, then all we can do is wait. And the waiting and not knowing is the hardest part.

I’m reminded once again of a Buddhist lesson that goes something like – there is no past and there is no future, there is only now.

I’m also reminded of a U2 song where Bono sings, “The end is not as far as the start.”

We may not play in a snowy backyard again, but for now we might just have a few more sunny days at the beach. I’ll do my best to live in those moments… and try not to think of what’s to come.

You Shine Like a Burning Star

Another day, another round of national press for our little superstar doggy Jasper.

The good folks at Petopia asked me to write a guest blog a couple weeks back. The entry I prepared for them – “The Calm Before the Storm” – is now available online. In it I write about J’s diagnosis, his never-ending love of water and waiting for what’s next. Hope you enjoy the entry.

Jasper is back at the U of M vet today for his bi-weekly update. He’s been a little more tired and stiff than usual this week, so I’m anxious to get the vet report later today.

In the meantime, I’ve been dreaming of snow, but I’ll save that for my next entry.

Tags: Cancer, Dog, Pets, University of Minnesota, Veterinarian, Vizsla