Highland Lady-Girl
Highland Snow Bird -- a West Highland White Terrier, who lacked the usual pointed ears, but hear us just fine. There is an irony lying at my feet, a sweet girl whose body is slowly shutting down, I think. Soon, I will be saying goodbye to my last Westie--Highland Lady-Girl. Oh, I never intended this to be a tear jerker blog; not for a Valentine themed month, yet inspiration had other plans. So, this is a story that simply needs telling and one based on a greater ironic series of events, which actually began 2 years before Lady came into the world.
Let me run you through the family ties – Highland Snow Bird or Snow gave birth to five girls on February 6th, 2002 (take notice that the month of February is predominant in this irony). There are only two living sisters: Lady-Girl and the smallest in that litter, Thistle Dieu, happily living with her “Daddy Eamon and Mommy Audrey” in Suffern, NY. In 2015, Sheila, passed away in Guelph, Ontario and just before Christmas, we let Highland Windsong go home as she suddenly went blind, deaf and had other ongoing problems. The fifth puppy was sold and I’ve not learned if she is alive or not. So now, let me get to the ironic in a story quite worthy of O’Henry.
The irony was born in February, but technically began in the winter of 1998 during my battle with Multiple Myeloma (a type of cancer (then) rarely survived). After aggressive Chemotherapy then a subsequent stem cell transplant, I successfully and thankfully to God/Goddess went into remission in February, 1999. Prior to my remission, during the worst of my chemo process, my husband (Timothy) thought fulfilling my wish for replacement for my old terrier could help me in my battle, keeping me positive and far out of depression, etc. . . . he was right in so many ways—cancer be damned! I always wanted a West Highland White Terrier so the actual irony started one day when he just happened to look at a days-old newspaper before using it to start a fire in our fireplace. There he spotted the ad that read: “For Sale: Female West Highland White Terrier puppy” Now, do I need to say we wasted no time heading for the kennel? (grin!) There we found the tiny gray puppy (Yes, Westies are white, but this little girl had been bedded in shredded newspapers and her gray soon “washed off”), her owners placed her in my hands and I would not hand her back! Indeed, we paid for her and brought her home snuggled inside my coat.
I named her Highland Snow Bird and, even as a puppy, she was the most wonderful healer one could expect. Of course, not in the medical sense of things, but in the way she continually entertained herself and me when I would be feeling so sick. She was such a clown and cancer treatments were no match for how she kept my spirits UP, alert and made me laugh even when I could barely manage a weary smile. One of her greatest gifts was how she would act like she need to go out . . . I would forcibly drag myself off the bed/sofa regardless of how weak and sick I felt, put a hat on my very bald head and bundle-up then take Snow to her little pen (necessary because she was a lot faster than her sick mommy could toddle along after her). Most of the time, she just played in the snow until I took her back inside, only to repeat the process minutes later. The point is this forced me to move when I would have rather lay there like a fatigued, sick slug! All-in-all, that little fluffy white tornado was more than a match for demon-cancer! I know that merely being there, snuggled against me in an energy exchange during sleep, she was my greatest healer in one little dog body. Of course, at the forefront of that war were the wonderfully skillful cancer doctors, nurses and the medicines at Guthrie Clinic, Sayre, PA and I would never discount their collective efforts in my healing! It was thru their efforts – supported by the energetic doggie doctor/nurse, Snow – that I officially was declared “in remission” that February (17 years have gone by and things remain miraculously the same) – so dare I say that Snow both stole my heart and did more than her part to win our fight.
Afterwards and when Snow was two years old, we bred her and she gave birth to the five girls; Lady-Girl the subject of this story, was the first one in a difficult birthing. She looked like she had a green collar as the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck, but thanks to the help from my sister, she was literally pulled into this world and then the 4 others followed normally and easily. As you already have figured out, we kept two of the puppies and sold the others. Snow left us after a fast-acting bacterial infection of the uterus stole her from us several years ago—in February. I believe she remains close in spirit form and still miss her terribly. Oh, I could go on for oodles of pages, talking about the escapades of Snow or her daughters – my babies – but, relax . . . I will spare you all that reading. Suffice it to say, I adore my
Westies so rather than turning this into a marathon of tail-wagging tales, I will finish the ironic part by getting back to Lady’s tail/tale.
In the way of an O’Henry story, what Snow began and her daughters continued as my best friends, healers and all-round precious pooches continued with Lady-Girl. She has always been a somewhat rotund, but basically healthy dog. She has always had strange lumps, but lately the change is remarkable for there are some tumorous lumps on her body, with a couple on her throat. By the way they are changing and she is suddenly losing tone and weight, I believe they are likely cancer. Last summer she had a bout of Vestibular (Old Dog Syndrome), antibiotics helped her rally, but now I fear it is back. She turned 14 on February 6th (old for a Westie) so surgery could be the more dangerous option so unless she has major problems breathing from the lumps or cannot eat or is in pain, I choose to let her do whatever she wants and can do. So, here we are 17 years after Snow entered my world and the 14 years of puppies lives with many events centered in February.
In this rather cruel version of an O’Henry style story, the ironic simply begins with what brought Snow into my life and now seems determined to take her daughter from it – as if Lady is paying the piper for the dancing of her mother. Seems that way in my way of thinking. As such, the ironic is sleeping much of the time on a pillow at my feet – she was always my Velcro dog – and has always been dearly loved, just as those before her. Snow came into my life as my champion in the fight against cancer; her daughter, the gentlest, sweetest old lady, is now fighting her own battle with the same enemy. I shall always be grateful for the gift of my dogs for they have meant so much and been loyal companions for all seasons and reasons. Oh, let me interject a positive note here—while this story features the Westies, the story does not END here. The cycle changes but continues through Snow with her grandson – WHISPER – who is the son of Sheila (Canada) and Dirk, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. He avoided the ironic connection to February, however, as his birthday was 11 years ago in September (broke the cycle?). But, he neither resembles his name in voice or personality (LOL) and that is a whole different story; a dog of another color, as the Wizard of Oz would say.
SO . . . Whisper, Tim and I expect it will not be too long before Snow (in spirit) comes to take Lady-Girl home – across the Rainbow Bridge – where they can play together in beautiful sunshine all across a perfect dog-romping landscape. That will finish this irony; indeed, a tail well-told; a circle closed.
Let me run you through the family ties – Highland Snow Bird or Snow gave birth to five girls on February 6th, 2002 (take notice that the month of February is predominant in this irony). There are only two living sisters: Lady-Girl and the smallest in that litter, Thistle Dieu, happily living with her “Daddy Eamon and Mommy Audrey” in Suffern, NY. In 2015, Sheila, passed away in Guelph, Ontario and just before Christmas, we let Highland Windsong go home as she suddenly went blind, deaf and had other ongoing problems. The fifth puppy was sold and I’ve not learned if she is alive or not. So now, let me get to the ironic in a story quite worthy of O’Henry.
The irony was born in February, but technically began in the winter of 1998 during my battle with Multiple Myeloma (a type of cancer (then) rarely survived). After aggressive Chemotherapy then a subsequent stem cell transplant, I successfully and thankfully to God/Goddess went into remission in February, 1999. Prior to my remission, during the worst of my chemo process, my husband (Timothy) thought fulfilling my wish for replacement for my old terrier could help me in my battle, keeping me positive and far out of depression, etc. . . . he was right in so many ways—cancer be damned! I always wanted a West Highland White Terrier so the actual irony started one day when he just happened to look at a days-old newspaper before using it to start a fire in our fireplace. There he spotted the ad that read: “For Sale: Female West Highland White Terrier puppy” Now, do I need to say we wasted no time heading for the kennel? (grin!) There we found the tiny gray puppy (Yes, Westies are white, but this little girl had been bedded in shredded newspapers and her gray soon “washed off”), her owners placed her in my hands and I would not hand her back! Indeed, we paid for her and brought her home snuggled inside my coat.
I named her Highland Snow Bird and, even as a puppy, she was the most wonderful healer one could expect. Of course, not in the medical sense of things, but in the way she continually entertained herself and me when I would be feeling so sick. She was such a clown and cancer treatments were no match for how she kept my spirits UP, alert and made me laugh even when I could barely manage a weary smile. One of her greatest gifts was how she would act like she need to go out . . . I would forcibly drag myself off the bed/sofa regardless of how weak and sick I felt, put a hat on my very bald head and bundle-up then take Snow to her little pen (necessary because she was a lot faster than her sick mommy could toddle along after her). Most of the time, she just played in the snow until I took her back inside, only to repeat the process minutes later. The point is this forced me to move when I would have rather lay there like a fatigued, sick slug! All-in-all, that little fluffy white tornado was more than a match for demon-cancer! I know that merely being there, snuggled against me in an energy exchange during sleep, she was my greatest healer in one little dog body. Of course, at the forefront of that war were the wonderfully skillful cancer doctors, nurses and the medicines at Guthrie Clinic, Sayre, PA and I would never discount their collective efforts in my healing! It was thru their efforts – supported by the energetic doggie doctor/nurse, Snow – that I officially was declared “in remission” that February (17 years have gone by and things remain miraculously the same) – so dare I say that Snow both stole my heart and did more than her part to win our fight.
Afterwards and when Snow was two years old, we bred her and she gave birth to the five girls; Lady-Girl the subject of this story, was the first one in a difficult birthing. She looked like she had a green collar as the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck, but thanks to the help from my sister, she was literally pulled into this world and then the 4 others followed normally and easily. As you already have figured out, we kept two of the puppies and sold the others. Snow left us after a fast-acting bacterial infection of the uterus stole her from us several years ago—in February. I believe she remains close in spirit form and still miss her terribly. Oh, I could go on for oodles of pages, talking about the escapades of Snow or her daughters – my babies – but, relax . . . I will spare you all that reading. Suffice it to say, I adore my
Westies so rather than turning this into a marathon of tail-wagging tales, I will finish the ironic part by getting back to Lady’s tail/tale.
In the way of an O’Henry story, what Snow began and her daughters continued as my best friends, healers and all-round precious pooches continued with Lady-Girl. She has always been a somewhat rotund, but basically healthy dog. She has always had strange lumps, but lately the change is remarkable for there are some tumorous lumps on her body, with a couple on her throat. By the way they are changing and she is suddenly losing tone and weight, I believe they are likely cancer. Last summer she had a bout of Vestibular (Old Dog Syndrome), antibiotics helped her rally, but now I fear it is back. She turned 14 on February 6th (old for a Westie) so surgery could be the more dangerous option so unless she has major problems breathing from the lumps or cannot eat or is in pain, I choose to let her do whatever she wants and can do. So, here we are 17 years after Snow entered my world and the 14 years of puppies lives with many events centered in February.
In this rather cruel version of an O’Henry style story, the ironic simply begins with what brought Snow into my life and now seems determined to take her daughter from it – as if Lady is paying the piper for the dancing of her mother. Seems that way in my way of thinking. As such, the ironic is sleeping much of the time on a pillow at my feet – she was always my Velcro dog – and has always been dearly loved, just as those before her. Snow came into my life as my champion in the fight against cancer; her daughter, the gentlest, sweetest old lady, is now fighting her own battle with the same enemy. I shall always be grateful for the gift of my dogs for they have meant so much and been loyal companions for all seasons and reasons. Oh, let me interject a positive note here—while this story features the Westies, the story does not END here. The cycle changes but continues through Snow with her grandson – WHISPER – who is the son of Sheila (Canada) and Dirk, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. He avoided the ironic connection to February, however, as his birthday was 11 years ago in September (broke the cycle?). But, he neither resembles his name in voice or personality (LOL) and that is a whole different story; a dog of another color, as the Wizard of Oz would say.
SO . . . Whisper, Tim and I expect it will not be too long before Snow (in spirit) comes to take Lady-Girl home – across the Rainbow Bridge – where they can play together in beautiful sunshine all across a perfect dog-romping landscape. That will finish this irony; indeed, a tail well-told; a circle closed.
Sadly I must report that Lady-Girl left to join the others across the Rainbow Bridge on February 24, 2016:
. . . As if she wanted the Irony to close once again in February, Lady began to fail, letting me know in her eyes and non actions that she was not well early in February and gradually became worse so when she stopped eating and drinking, apparently succumbing again to the Vestibular or Old Dog disease loosing almost all control of her hind legs, began dropping weight fast enough to make any dieter envious and the Veterinarian confirmed all her lymph nodes were greatly enlarged and she likely was dying of something like Lymphoma. Therefore, her age and degree of illness made it seem time to let her go. It was so hard to watch her trying to stay and struggling but falling down, having more and more trouble breathing, eating and sleeping almost all the time . . . It came to the decision of quality of life and we regretfully let her go, putting her to sleep so she might join the others where there was no pain or cancer for her to fight.
Her ashes will join those from her sister Wind's on the mantel. We hope to begin a new legacy when the time is right -- or one of the spirit westies has the whim to return in a new puppy or just send one out way (like Snow was sent at the perfect moment to being this legacy of sweet fur babies.
. . . As if she wanted the Irony to close once again in February, Lady began to fail, letting me know in her eyes and non actions that she was not well early in February and gradually became worse so when she stopped eating and drinking, apparently succumbing again to the Vestibular or Old Dog disease loosing almost all control of her hind legs, began dropping weight fast enough to make any dieter envious and the Veterinarian confirmed all her lymph nodes were greatly enlarged and she likely was dying of something like Lymphoma. Therefore, her age and degree of illness made it seem time to let her go. It was so hard to watch her trying to stay and struggling but falling down, having more and more trouble breathing, eating and sleeping almost all the time . . . It came to the decision of quality of life and we regretfully let her go, putting her to sleep so she might join the others where there was no pain or cancer for her to fight.
Her ashes will join those from her sister Wind's on the mantel. We hope to begin a new legacy when the time is right -- or one of the spirit westies has the whim to return in a new puppy or just send one out way (like Snow was sent at the perfect moment to being this legacy of sweet fur babies.
