And then the house and the sky fell quiet

“Good morning, Zooey.”

For the past twelve years Zooey has slept in her crate next to our bed. Yesterday, like so many mornings before, I woke up, rolled over and said those three little words. In that moment, I didn’t know it would be the last time.

When I opened her crate door, I noticed right away something was wrong. Zooey was having trouble walking and the fluid had built up significantly outside her abdomen. As the cardiology vets had told us, they could drain the fluid from her abdomen a couple more times, but there was no way to remove the fluid that was building up in her skin outside her abdomen.

For weeks I’d been reading end-of-life articles and trying to find an answer to the question: When is the right time to let go? (Here’s one of the best articles I came across)

Now I knew we’d reached that time. Veronika and I talked it over, and made the incredibly painful decision to schedule Zooey’s euthanasia later in the afternoon. We made the call at 11AM and set up an appointment for 4PM.

Once the decision was made, the waiting became excruciating. Emotions and thoughts started rushing through my mind and I was constantly questioning whether or not we were doing the right thing.

We were also questioning where we should do this. With Jasper we settled on an at-home procedure, but for Zooey that just didn’t feel right. We decided returning to the University of Minnesota’s Small Animal Hospital made the most sense for us given that Zooey had become comfortable with the doctors and technicians there.

With everything in place, there was one last thing we wanted to do … take Zooey for a final walk in one of her favorite parks.

Around 3PM we drove to Battle Creek Regional Park. Dogs can run off-leash on wooded trails and across open fields in this park, so we’ve visited and hiked these paths countless times over the years.

When we arrived, the sun was shining, the sky was a brilliant blue and the park — covered in snow — was as beautiful as we’d ever seen it.

But Zooey struggled to walk along trails she had once raced down. If we needed a final sign, this was it. Her time had come and there was nothing more we could do. After a short while we returned to the car and started to drive to the small animal hospital.

We arrived shortly thereafter and were taken to a private room with wood floors, comfortable chairs and soft blanket for Zooey to lay down on. We should pause here and say how thankful we were for all the people at the University of Minnesota’s Small Animal Hospital. Everyone from the front desk staff to the lead veterinarian treated us with the utmost care and respect — that day and throughout the entire past few months.

Once in the room, we were given time alone with Zooey to say final goodbyes. I can hardly describe how difficult this was. The one good thing is that Zooey was still being Zooey — sniffing around the room and sticking her nose in the garbage pail.

Once we gave the go ahead, one of the vet techs took her away for a few minutes to insert a small catheter into her leg. This helps assist with the process.

Zooey then returned and we were given more alone time. After awhile, we pushed the small buzzer on the wall and the lead veterinarian arrived.

When we were ready, she inserted the first solution into the catheter. This caused Zooey to fall asleep quickly. Then she inserted the second solution and Zooey’s heart stopped almost instantly. The whole thing seemed to happen in less than 30 seconds.

I was shocked by the suddenness of it. The doctor quickly stepped out of the room to give us privacy and Veronika and I were left with Zooey and tears streaming down our faces. I remember both us of saying how much we loved her and then I leaned over, and through the tears, whispered, “I’m so sorry Zooey. I did everything I could to save you.” Together we pet her soft fur and held her one last time.

After a few more moments, we asked for the vet technician to return. Together we lifted Zooey’s body up and then she took her away to be placed in a small casket for us to transport her to Pets Remembered Cremation.

Like so many times before, Veronika and I drove though the darkness with Zooey in the back of the car. Although this time she wasn’t bouncing around and staring out the window looking for another dog or passing squirrel to bark at. All I remember is silence.

—–

One of the hardest parts of losing a pet is coming home.

As soon as we stepped in the door, I was hit with a wave of emotion. Everywhere I look there’s something to remind me of Zooey — her water dish by the door, her blanket on the couch, her running gear and winter booties in the front closet.

And everything you’ve known for all those years changes, too. It’s habit to not leave food or tissues on the counter because Zooey will snap them up. Or to close doors so she doesn’t rummage around in a garbage can or chew on a sock. To lay out her “dog blanket” on our bed in the morning. She’s no longer there to let outside or take for a walk. And she doesn’t come running when I open the cereal box late at night. In an instance, everything changes and life is thrown upside down.

All day the lyrics from the song “Landslide” have been running through my head:

And can I sail through the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Oh oh I don’t know, oh I don’t know
Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you

I don’t know where we go from here. I don’t know what comes next. For the first time in fifteen years, we’re waking up without a dog in the house.

I keep thinking Zooey is still sleeping in her crate and will come running into the kitchen at any moment.

But for now, there’s only silence where there was up until recently so much activity.

Zooey came into our lives as a rescue dog with a blue blanket and not much more. She was our much beloved “trouble dog” with an abundance of positive energy and personality. Yesterday, on a gorgeous sunny day, after all these years, she was cremated with her same raggedy blue blanket wrapped around her. As we ponder how to deal with the days ahead, we take comfort in thinking somehow we came full circle.

Goodbye, dear Zooey. We’ll never forget you.

(Zooey, June 11, 2003 to January 2, 2016)

7 things you might not realize when you get a dog

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about all the things I’ve learned from our two dogs over the past 14 years. Some of this should have been obvious while other tidbits came as a surprise. So, here’s my list of 7 things you might not realize when you get a new puppy or dog.

1) Prepare to be followed. If you walk around the house, the dog is most likely to follow you. If you lay down, the dog will probably lay down. If you go outside … OK, you get the picture.

2) Get ready to pick up a lot of poop. And barf. And that half-chewed stick the dog just spit up on the living room rug. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Someday you might even miss doing it.

3) The dog is going to drive you crazy. They’ll bark to go out and then turn around and bark to come back in. They won’t come back in the house when they know you’re running late to that 9AM meeting at work. They’ll try to eat things they’re not supposed to like socks, rabbit turds, dead squirrels, etc. They’ll constantly nudge you when you’re working on the computer. But you’ll miss these moments someday, too.

4) You’re going to spend a lot of money. We’ve easily spent tens of thousands over the years on vet bills, food, crates (yes, plural for one dog), rawhide, treats, leashes, more rawhide, collars, registrations, even more rawhide … Easily the best money we’ve ever spent.

5) You’re going to love them like a member of the family. Maybe more so, if that’s possible.

6) You’re going to change your schedule to fit their schedule. You’ll leave parties early to “let the dog out.” You’ll adjust your vacations to be away from them as little as possible. You’ll flex your work schedule so they don’t have to be home alone for more than X hours (you’ll come to learn this magic number from experience).

7) Saying goodbye to them will be one of the hardest things you ever do. Ever.

Which brings me to today.

We were planning on bringing Zooey in to the vet to say goodbye tomorrow afternoon, but when we woke up today, we noticed that her condition had taken a turn for the worse. There’s more fluid build-up outside her abdomen and her breathing has become more labored. Waiting until tomorrow doesn’t seem fair to her, so we’ve made the incredibly painful decision to schedule an appointment for this afternoon.

My heart is feeling completely broken.

p.s. As I type this, Zooey is laying on the floor right next to my chair. Right up until the very end she doesn’t want to leave my side …

Chasing the sun: Photos from the road with Zooey-Roo

Nov. 1, 2015 — As I sit here typing, Zooey is in the yard barking at squirrels. Some things never change.

We’ve actually had a couple good days. Yesterday and today she ate all her regular food plus a couple scrambled eggs. She took her pills (cheese!). And went for two walks in the woods and actually ran around a bit. The end may be soon, but it’s not quite here yet.

Times like these often lead to reflections of days gone by. Those fleeting moments lodged in the crevasses of our memory. We’ve been fortunate to share many memorable experiences with Zooey over the years, and she’s gone on quite the adventures!

I read recently that the average American adult has visited 20 states. Zooey traveled to 13. Not bad for a dog.

Veronika and I were going through photos of some of those travels — both near and far — from the past few years last night, so I wanted to share a few of our favorites here.

On the Road(trip)

Photo: Zooey’s “cockpit” on a spur-of-the-moment road trip to the hill country of Northeast Iowa.

Photo: The night we “tried to go camping”. You can read the rest of that story here.

Photo: One of many trips to Northern Minnesota.

Photo: On the shores of Lake Superior. I remember the wind was howling on this occasion.

Photo: Devils Tower, Wyoming. This was a massive road trip — five adults, two kids and one dog in a motor-home for 10 days! By the end, Zooey had chewed threw her mesh travel crate. I think we were all going a bit stir crazy, but what an amazing experience.

Photo: Zooey and Todd hanging out on the shore of Lake Yellowstone in Yellowstone National Park. Aforementioned motor-home in the distance.

Photo: Zooey and Veronika on the shore of Lake Yellowstone at sunset.

Photo: Lamar Valley, Yellowstone. I think Zooey caught the scent of wolves. Or maybe bison. OK, it was probably just prairie dogs since they sound like squeaky toys!

Photo: Sunset on the North Dakota prairie.

Photo: On this road trip we spent two weeks driving across the desert Southwest. Here Zooey poses in the Four Corners region of Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona and Utah.

Photo: A gorgeous day for hiking outside Moab, Utah.

Photo: Dogs standing on National Park signs probably isn’t legal, but hey, the photo turned out great!

Photo: Taking a break in St. George, Utah.

Photo: Scanning the horizon on a hike in St. George, Utah. Overall this trip covered 4,000+ miles. The biggest challenge? Getting Zooey to pee in the sand and dirt — not a lot of grass in that part of the country. 🙂

Photo: Hiking in the foothills high above Salt Lake City, Utah. Zooey was such a great travel dog! She loved going new places and exploring countless wilderness trails.

Closer to Home

Not all of our outings were epic road trips. A lot of our adventures were a little closer to home.

Photo: Zooey loved to run! Most of the time this meant heading out with Veronika, but on a couple occasions she and Todd competed in 5-Ks. And she was such a good “runner dog”. Always pointing straight ahead like she was leading a team of sled dogs — or in this case, us!

Photo: Zooey loved boating. She wasn’t a water dog like Jasper, but she still enjoyed cruising the St. Croix River on Todd’s dad’s boat.

Photo: A rare calm moment onboard.

Photo: Enjoying the sunset over the water on a beautiful autumn evening.

Photo: Did we mention how much Zooey loved people? Especially our nephews. She was always so happy with the boys.

Photo: We had adventures in colder seasons, too. And as you can see, that didn’t slow down Zooey.

Photo: Winter hiking in Southeastern Minnesota.

Photo: A cold winter day along the Mississippi River in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Photo: Exploring bluff country in Southeastern Minnesota late last fall.

Photo: A quiet moment on the wooded trails high above the Mississippi River near our home.

Is there a good day to say goodbye?

October 29, 2015 — Wow, the last post below was from 2011. Amazing how the years pass.

For a long time now this site has sat idle. I’ve thought about taking it down, but for some reason I just let it float out across the Web. Now I know why. The story wasn’t over.

In 2010 this started out as a blog about Jasper and his cancer diagnosis. But there were always two Vizslas in our lives. There was Zooey, too.

Now over 12-years old, she is still with us, but not for much longer.

You see, back in mid-September Zooey was diagnosed with a rare heart-based cancer tumor. We first noticed she was having trouble breathing, so we took her in to see our regular veterinarian at Como Park Animal Hospital. They did a few tests and a chest scan and immediately sent us over the University of Minnesota Small Animal Hospital. That’s when my heart dropped and I was transported back to 2009-10 and the ordeal we endured with Jasper’s cancer.

My wife and I know we’ve had a great life together with Zooey, but she’s always been so healthy. We thought she’d live at least another couple years, so needless to say this has been a huge shock.

The tumor itself isn’t causing Zooey pain, but what happens is it causes fluid to build up in her abdomen and press on the outside of her lungs which restricts breathing. Each time this has happened — four times now — we’ve taken her in and had the fluid pumped out. And the amount of fluid is amazing — sometimes up to 3/4 of a gallon! It’s a pretty straightforward procedure and each time when she’s done, Zooey charges out of the hospital. Afterwards she has a few good days and then a slow decline until we’re back for another procedure.

The unfortunate part is the time between chest pumps is decreasing, meaning that the end is drawing near.

With Jasper, it was easier (never “easy”) knowing it was time. He almost stopping eating completely and wouldn’t get up any more. It was clear that he was ready to say goodbye.

With Zooey I think it will be a much harder decision. Like I said, after each vet visit she slows down a little but still likes going for hikes, exploring the beach along the Mississippi River and chewing her nylabones. But she’s getting more and more tired. And food, well, that’s becoming an almost-daily challenge.

All of this is leading to a decision no pet parent wants to make: Is it time?

During situations like this, weird thoughts cross your mind. While walking her back to the car from the vet today I was thinking, “Will it be better to say goodbye on the weekend and have quiet time to grieve a little or on a weekday after a beautiful weekend?” Strange.

Just typing those words causes tears in my eyes. I’m not ready to lose another best friend. My hiking buddy. My TV-watching companion. I can’t imagine looking in the rear view mirror and not seeing her happily panting away while we head out on our next adventure.

When Jasper passed away, we were devastated, but we came home to Zooey. Now the house will feel so painfully empty. For the first time in over 14 years we won’t be sharing our home with another creature.

I think that’s when it’s really going to hit me.

For now, I’m going to go pet Zooey while I can and hold on to the moment just a little longer.

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! 🙂

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.

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

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

J says hello

Hi, how are you doing?

Every few days I check the blog and see that another 10, 20, 30 or more people have stopped by to browse through J’s stories.

I’m not a very good host, though. I’ve been sharing all these personal stories without stopping to say “hi”. Jasper would say “hi”, too, but he’s sound asleep. 🙂

So, a few questions for you. What drew you to this blog? Do you have pets? Have they had cancer? Do you have questions about my experience with Jasper’s cancer? Are there things you wish I’d write about? (If you’ve read any of the other entries, you probably know that I’ll say just about anything, so ask away.)

Photo: Another sunny day on the St. Croix River

p.s. J had another visit with the veterinary oncologists recently. Great news! His discharge sheet didn’t say much, but it did have four little words that made my week – “Jasper’s tumor appears smaller.” At least for the moment we have a little ray of hope.

p.p.s. J’s story was recently featured on the Tails magazine’s website. Check it out! He’s becoming the most famous member of our family.

p.p.p.s. Jasper and I had another great Sunday hanging out on my dad’s boat. J isn’t a big fan of his “yum-yum yellow” lifejacket, but it really helps us pull him out of the water when he’s done swimming laps around the boat!

Miracle Drug(s)?

I started this blog by saying “Jasper has cancer.” Today I’d like to make a change. “Jasper is living with cancer.”

Ever since we returned from our South Dakota road trip – and after he slept for nearly two days straight – he’s been acting like a young, healthy dog once again. He’s eating all his food, hopping on the bed to wake us up in the morning and chewing on his favorite purple squeaky toy just like the good old days. I think all the hiking, swimming and fresh air did him good!

Photo: Just a few of Jasper’s cancer pills

He’s also taking a collection of 7+ different pills, but so far (fingers crossed) the latest chemo drugs don’t seem to be adversely affecting him. From what we can see, the tumor on his side appears to have stabilized. He has another appointment this Thursday at the University of Minnesota Small Animal Hospital, so we’ll have a better idea of his condition after that.

I said earlier that I was going to write about the ups and downs of living with a pet who has cancer. This has certainly been an “up” period, so we’re really thankful. I’m not sure how long it will last, but I’m not thinking about that tonight.

Black Hills Adventure (Our little “Make a Wish” trip)

Veronika and I have been fortunate to travel to some pretty amazing places during our lifetimes, but a little ol’ road trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota just might be the best trip we’ve ever taken.

Why? Because it meant the world to us to be able to go on this trip with our two dogs at this point in time. In a way, this vacation was kind of like a “Make a Wish” trip for J. I knew we had to go while we still could. Plus all I’ve ever wanted to do was be out in the woods hiking and exploring with him. The Black Hills were the perfect place to do this as a family.

The Hills are about an 11 hour drive from Minneapolis (depending on potty breaks – for dogs and people!), so this was by far the longest trip we’d ever taken with Jasper and Zooey. In the past we wondered if we could even make a trip like this work with two dogs. Now we’re wondering why we didn’t do this sooner!

Photo: Packed up and ready to go!

After packing the car, we all hopped in and headed west. Jasper has this really funny habit whenever we’re on a road trip. Even when he lies down, he still keeps his head propped up so he can look out the window and watch the clouds and landscapes pass by. It’s almost as if he’s thinking, “I may never be this way again, so I don’t want to miss a thing.”

On night one, we stopped a little over halfway in Chamberlain, South Dakota. After dinner, J went for a dip in the Missouri River, while Zooey took a crap in the river. Bad dog!

On the way back to our hotel, a deer walked right in front of our car. Zooey loves to chase rabbits back in Minneapolis, but I don’t think she’s seen a deer before. She was just frozen in the back of the car with a look on her face like, “Holy s***, that’s a REALLY big rabbit!”

Day two we made it to our friend’s perfect little cabin in Custer State Park. The location couldn’t have been more beautiful… ponderosa pine all around, rock cliffs above us and a stream down below. Just the perfect escape from work, the hustle of the city and worries about cancer.

Over the next week we created a lifetime of memories with our dear Jasper and Zooey. Each day seemed even better than the last. We hiked mile after mile of backcountry trails (J really liked his “doggy hiking sandwich” – two pieces of bread with peanut butter and dog food in the middle… yum!). Jasper swam in more lakes and streams than we could count. Zooey ran up and down and up and down and up and down the hillsides and then she ran some more. We all went swimming in Angostura Reservoir – a gorgeous lake on the southern edge of the hills where I spent many happy days as a youth. We drove through mile upon mile of breathtaking scenery and at night we all cuddled around the warm fireplace. Ohh, and we were almost hit by lighting while out hiking… like I said, good fun!

Probably the best part was that through it all, J was just a “normal” dog. Sure, he was a little more tired at night and he did sleep until 2PM the first day back in the cities, but throughout the trip he was running and swimming just like the old J. For a few days we were able to feel like he wasn’t even sick.

Well, enough of me blabbering on. I’ll let the pictures do the talking…

Photo: You see a lot of strange things in South Dakota

Photo: Zooey checking out the prairie

Photo: Ready to head off on a backcountry trail

Photo: The Needles in the beautiful Black Hills

Photo: What a great day for a swim in Pactola Reservoir

Photo: Jasper and Todd enjoying a dip on a super hot day

Photo: Gotta stop for ice cream!

Photo: Resting back at the cabin

Photo: Zooey zonked out after another big day of hiking

Photo: Stopping for a break near a Black Hills stream

Photo: Zooey and V near Sylvan – most beautiful lake in the Hills

Photo: J does his super model pose

Todd and J watching the sun go down over Sheridan Lake

J hits the Big Time (plus Facebook info)!

Wow, what a week for good ol’ Jumping Jasper-Roo!

His story (and lovable mug) have been featured on dog blogs across the country. It feels great knowing his “tail” is touching others! (Sorry, couldn’t resist!)

To provide updates on Jasper’s latest adventures, I’ve also started a Facebook group for him. Just search for “The Adventures of Jumping Jasper-Roo the Vizsla Dog” and join today.

Here’s a rundown of some of the wonderful blogs out there that have mentioned Jasper:

The Happy Wag – Roanoke (Virginia) Times

The Bark Magazine

All Dog Blog

Finally, thanks to all of you who’ve read the blog and taken time to comment. On the days when I’m really struggling to deal with this situation, reading your words of hope and encouragement gives me strength and happiness. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Why haven’t we done this before?

Why does it usually take a tragedy – or a near miss – to jolt us from our routines and remember what’s really important in life?

On August 1, 2007 the Interstate 35W Bridge collapsed in Minneapolis killing 13 people and injuring 145.

I was playing tennis just blocks away when it happened. I remember the roar of emergency vehicles going by and smoke rising on the horizon. We all rushed inside the tennis center and stood motionless in front of the TV monitors, unable to comprehend what had just occurred.

My whole family crossed that bridge multiple times during the day, so I was freaking out. I grabbed my bag and rushed over to my parents’ house. As I drove I kept thinking, “Is everyone OK?” Little did I know that my mom had driven across the bridge fifteen minutes before it went down. When I arrived at their house she was visibly shaken.

The next day I asked my mom for a ride to the light rail station in downtown Minneapolis. Veronika was working in London at the time and I was flying over to spend a few days with her. Before hopping on the train, I said to my mom, “If something happens to me, please take care of the dogs.” (I’ve always been a little nervous about flying, and she was the one who watched over the dogs when we were away)

I gave her a hug, waved and walked away to catch a train to the airport.

Photo: My mom and J as a puppy – my most precious photo (2001)

Veronika and I spent the next day – a gorgeous, sunny day – strolling through London and taking in the sites. When we returned to her apartment in the afternoon, there was an urgent message. “Call your sister right away. It’s an emergency.”

My sister answered the phone and as she started speaking I collapsed to the floor.

While I had been on the flight to Europe, my mom had suffered a major brain aneurysm. She was rushed to the ER, but there was nothing more the doctors could do.

I can hardly explain the emotions I felt. I was stuck in London with no way of getting home until early the next day while my mom was in a hospital in Minneapolis slowly slipping away.

Around 3AM, my sister called with the news that our mom had passed away.

It may seem strange, but in the weeks and months that followed I felt an incredible sense of calm (along with the obvious sadness). For a stressed-out, anxious worrier, it was unlike anything I had ever experienced. All of a sudden the concerns that had been plaguing me no longer mattered. Life became simple, which brings me to Jasper.

In the years since my mom’s death, the stress of everyday life slowly returned. But now I’m starting to awaken once again to what’s really important. It isn’t the arbitrary deadlines, the latest technology gizmo or the size of your house. It’s the simple moments we share with family, friends and yes, our pets. Seems obvious, right?

Can you believe that I’ve lived in Minneapolis for nearly twenty years and I’ve never walked around Lake of the Isles? One of the most beautiful urban lakes anywhere. Sure, driven by a bunch of times, but never bothered to stop.

On Friday night, Veronika and I took the dogs for a walk there. It was like an evening escape to Italy! But with mosquitoes.

For years it was the same routine with Jasper. Go to the northeast dog park once or twice during the week. Visit the Mississippi River dog park on the weekends (still one of my favorites). Watch a lot of TV.

Photo: Jasper’s favorite thing – WATER!

No more! Now we’re getting out and visiting new urban trails during the week while exploring a new dog park every weekend! Did you know there were trails up and down the river bluffs in Inver Grover Heights? A swimming pond for dogs (and turtles and frogs) in Bryant Lake Park? A marshy woodland preserve that looks like something out of Africa in Brooklyn Center? These places rock! Why haven’t we done this before?

This past weekend we went to our new favorite place in the cities – Afton State Park! Jasper loves swimming in the St. Croix River at the edge of the park, Veronika and I love the fields of prairie wildflowers and we all love hiking the endless trails through pine and hardwood forests. After four hours in the park swimming with J and walking until our legs hurt, I felt the best I have in years! Wow!

This is really what life is all about.

Photo: Todd and Zooey taking a break while J swims in the St. Croix

To end on another positive note, the doctor asked us to do some “informal” at-home measurements of Jasper’s tumor on a regular basis. We were so happy this evening when we did the measurements and found it hadn’t grown in the last week.

It’s the little victories that keep us going now.