On February 5, 2009 - my best friend Timber decided he was ready to be rid of OS and move on to his next big adventure. It was a truly peaceful departure, and we are relieved he can be running around in doggie heaven like the total spaz he was here on earth. I'll keep the story as short as possible, but felt I needed to share a few major experiences, and how they impacted our treatment decisions.

 - Timber was a 110lb. malamute diagnosed on May 29, 2008 with a OS tumor in the right distal radius. We signed up for amputation immediately, but talked to another OS patient here in Boulder who told us to go to CSU in Ft. Collins first. No problem. Drove up to CSU, ran some more tests, and found out there was another tumor in the left distal tibia. Amputation was no longer an option, so we decided to rock the radiation and pamidronate circuit for 9 months. Yes, it was expensive, inconvenient, and somewhat epic every time we went. Timber HATED the vet, and we're not talking like kind of freaked out, wet the floor kind of stuff…I mean like a wild animal that has to be fully sedated with a muzzle on kind of freaked out. It made us sick, but you know what, after the first visit, he started to mellow out…and this was a 9 year old dog who was always anti-vet! Sure we had to give him a little ace promazine before hand, but he was always quick to forgive, and really began to love the staff at CSU. I think he must have known that coming out of there feeling better, was worth being there for a few hours once a month.

 - The pain relief from the radiation was evident almost immediately, and for about 4 months after diagnosis, we were still going on camping trips, short hikes, and 2-3 short walks a day. Of course we had to get used to a leash again to restrict his movement, but we learned that he was happy just getting out to see the neighbors, marking his territory, and enjoying the scenery.

 - About 5 months in, we noticed that the walks needed to be a bit shorter, but we took him on one last camping trip in late November, and took a road trip down to TX for Christmas. Seeing our whole family was tremendously uplifting for everyone. He was still using his doggie door, eating voraciously, and of course demanding his short walks.

 - On January 2, 2009 we noticed he was really slowing down, and the pain was catching back up to him, so we made an appt. at CSU for more radiation. He was different at this appointment. We walked in, and he laid down right away, as if to say “I am so @#&@* tired of this.” We still did the treatments, and he cooperated quite nicely, but only after I promised him no more vet trips. That was it, we knew we only had a few weeks left with him, and it was on his terms, so it was OK.

 - This last part is for everyone, but especially those of you who have never experienced opting for compassionate euthanasia of a dear friend. I've never been responsible for making this decision, and I was scared out of my mind….all I could think of is “what does you know when it will be the right time” actually mean. It drove me crazy until that moment came, and then it was as clear as day. For Timber, it was very, very fast. Within 2- 3 days he went from pretty active to not making it to the end of the driveway. We were very in tune with Timber, and knew his passion in life was being outside, hiking, running, losing his mind in the snow, etc. As soon as those things weren't possible, we knew it would be time. Yes, he was still eating, and acting like a silly old clown, but we wanted him to leave our world with spunk and dignity…which he did. The end was a beautiful moment for our little family, and even though there is an emptiness now that is more expansive than I could've imagined, keeping him here any longer would have meant a great deal of suffering on his part, which I promised I would never let happen.

My favorite book is The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho and I read it during times of struggle….this being no exception. The day we decided to put Timber to sleep, I came across my favorite quote from the book, which I have been clinging to tenaciously:

“Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second’s encounter with God and with eternity.”

For me, this is true…worrying about loss, is far worse than the actual loss. I know Timber is in a beautiful place, searching for his dreams, and that one day I'll meet up with him again, and we can continue searching for our dreams together.

All our love, 

Erin, Robbie & Timber (in spirit)