Trevar, My Extreme Scottie
The past three months have been consumed by a schedule….a
dog’s schedule. 5:45 a.m. 40 ml of water
6:15, meds and feeding, flushing tubes, walks for exercises of the mind, body,
and spirit, more water, change of scenery sitting outside, more water, doctor’s
appointment, a few hours for a dog nap, more water, meds and feeding around
noon, flush tube, at 2 pm more meds, and water, four hours later more meds and
food, and 10 pm meds and hopefully a snack by mouth. It took some juggling of appointments and housecleaning
but I would do it all over again, for my “Bud.”
Trevar, “extreme Trev Scottie extraordinaire” (as he was so
aptly nicknamed), was always a healthy guy, never many medical needs throughout
the years. His personality was as laid
back as his health needs. While he
enjoyed meeting new people, attending book signings with me, providing pet
therapy, performing his repertoire of tricks or just hanging out, he was a “guy”
who seemed to just enjoy the world as it was.
He wasn’t overly demonstrative but if you knew him you knew he was
watching and hoping to be noticed. The
westies always over powered his quiet demeanor as their vivacious spirits often
override any thing, but he took it all in stride. Even in the car as each dog
was given “permission” to exit the car with help, he always waited for the
westies to go first. He was a true gentleman,
a wee lad with couth and charisma.
Trev loved people and his eyes would always sparkle with
delight when he met new people, but his calmness about it, excepting a tail wag
and ears flattened, often went unnoticed by new people unless it was brought to
their attention. He could have easily
gotten lost in the crowd if I would have allowed it. But I know Scotties, and I knew Trev-he loved
attention and I saw that people knew it.
He absolutely adored my mother! She was in fact the ONLY person who ever got
real smooches from him. When she passed
away he was sad and often looked for her in her chair.
Trevar was my third Scottie (my first male), following the
tragedy and loss of Fallon at 2 ½ and precious Brin a few years earlier. My family had another Scottie when I was
growing up, and his name was Shane-he was actually my sister’s dog but due to
his “not wanting to be left alone” he came to live with us. Anyone who knows Scotties understands and
loves the uniqueness of their personality and physical traits. While each one of the Scotties in my life was
different, they all shared some great qualities. The “short leg” thing for one gives Scotties
their unique bounce and strut. Their
elongated nose often balanced by penetrating soulful eyes, their short stocky
bodies, their larger than life teeth (much bigger than would be expected), and their
ability to let you know that THEY know exactly what’s going on. The most amazing thing to me has always been,
Scotties do not smell. What I mean is
they rarely if ever get that smelly dog odor, they have a unique aroma and it
is never offensive. ‘Scottie smell” is
awesome!
“Trev the extreme Scottie extraordinaire” earned his name
and “title” through various means. He
had no fear and would often be found sitting high up on an outside table,
scaling and perching on a wall, or walking and balancing on a two inch wide space
on the back of the sofa. He loved to
sleigh ride sailing over bounces snow blowing in his face-the faster the
better. Swimming was always a favorite
as he’d plunge in into the water from a raft without hesitation. Last year our
community opened the public pool (the big pool) for a fundraiser for animals. I
swear his eyes lit up when we walked in and he saw the huge pool-he couldn’t
wait to get in. Over and over he kept
coming to the edge- it was if he knew this pool trip was special-so funny. Trevar loved the parades –the louder the
better and whether it is believed or not he understood that “Santa” was coming down the road soon. And oh
when the tractor and cart came out of the garage he was ready to ride fast in
cart, parading up and down our street and yard.
His antics were special. When asked to “give me a smooch”
with much coaxing he would playfully turn his head and offer the side of HIS
face for ME to smooch. Trev invented the
blanket game and taught it to all the “new” dogs that came home. This is a game where you bury yourself under
a blanket and taunt others to get you-this could on forever as all dogs got in
on the action. His unique Scottish shout
and croon was unmatched by any other-sometimes deep and penetrating and other
times high pitched and groaning. And always
you could count a good Scottie dust kick up after “you know” or after a good
guarding of the homestead. The way to
get a Scottie to bury his face? Say,
“I’m gonna’ bite your nose!.” Always
worked for him as he’d playfully look up to tease and hide face over and over.
A bed time game he enjoyed was the “1,2,3.”
As Trev would be all snuggled in supposedly ready for bed an annoying
human might come by, and with the actions of getting ready to jump on the bed
motion, begin the count, “1,” “2,” “2 ½,” “2 ¾,” and pounce on 3. I rarely got to three as the twos would send
him into screeching Scottie mode, and he would proceed to charge and usually
dig and press his head against my body for a “head butt.” When you received a “head butt” you knew you
got him going. Another bed time favorite
was “gimme a bite.” Trev didn’t play
with many toys but he did like his bones.
All I would have to say is that special phrase, and he usually picked up
a bone, brought it to Rob to hold, and contently chewed for some time. Among
his many tricks, another he himself invented, was to jump into a callers
arms. Those little Scottie legs packed
power and he could jump very high. He
also created the “ride.” When he was a
young pup, he surprised us with this particular creation. As I was on floor cleaning under “things” I
suddenly felt a pup on my back. He struggled to balance but I was unable to
shake him, he wanted to be there-so at any time over the years one might come
to our door and find a grown human crawling around on the floor with a
perfectly content sitting Scottie on their back.
He participated in many household duties. Trev enjoyed
helping cook meals. Well he actually
enjoyed hanging in the kitchen to help clean up if needed. You never know when something might drop and
would need to be cleaned up immediately.
Just to be sure that all bases were covered and cleaned if the bathroom
door happened to be open after a human’s shower, Trev along with his housemates
would line up for a towel rub. A damp
face washing was always in order.
Guarding the house and ridding the yard of varmints was a mighty task
and one he took seriously. The mere
mention of the “big ground hog” sent him running to the door in full Scottie
alert. Another “vicious” intruder was
….rabbits. This got his attention and he
meant business. We always have to do a
yard check before the dogs go out or we may have killing. Trev’s biggest and most responsible household
chores was discreetly letting everyone know when it was “time to
upstairs.” In the evening when Trev
stood in the middle of floor, not moving for some time, you knew “time to go upstairs”
would get his attention and he would patiently wait on the step for all to
follow.
As noted Trev had no fear except…..certain bugs. He’d chase bees without fail, spiders, but oh
my gosh if a fly got in the house you knew, as Trev was went into hiding. Much time was spent trying to find him and
not really knowing why his was hiding until with luck you saw…the fly. Once the fly was dead he was out and about
with nary a care.
Trevar wasn’t much of a barker, the westies took care of
that he just kept a watchful eye mostly.
But then if the ground hog family dared to show their presence-you could
see the dust fly and hear the bellows of a Scottie on a mission.
Our “bud” was not overly demonstrative but I knew what he
wanted and what he felt. When I became
very ill a few years back, he was with me.
I never coaxed or called him to me but all of a sudden I would feel him curling
up tightly against my side or legs. It
was as if he was pushing in saying, “I’m here I’ll take care of you.” I’ll never forget that… his quiet
comforting. This one of the many reasons
I prayed to be able comfort him in his times of need. Because he was there for me, I needed and
wanted to be there for him. He’s the
kind of dog that wouldn’t ask, but you know he wanted you with him.
Trevar garnered many titles and names through the years-he
passed his Canine Good Citizen Test three times, his was a certified therapy
dog, he won and placed in talent contests, and to us he had many names…”the
bud,” “scallywag,” “funny guy,” “handsome boy,” and always ALWAYS, “he’s a good
boy.” That WAS Trev…a GOOD BOY. Trev had the honor of winning a Fala lookalike
contest too!
Trev loved participating in all types of training
classes-trick, agility, rally, obedience, canine acting, and any other one that
came along. He liked to go and was
comfortable anywhere. He loved car rides
and often stood “driving” between the front seats when allowed.
He loved presents, especially the edible kind. His favorites were nylabones and special
treats. We celebrate all dog birthdays at
our house. His last birthday was extra special-he received and carried around
an eight inch carrot based treat. He ate
it all with great relish, after he walked around showing it off for a bit. Christmas always brought great joy as the
dogs anticipate presents as much as the humans. While Trev tolerated opening
the toys, he couldn’t wait for the “eats.” He often go over to his stocking and
come back to me as if to say “can I have it yet?” What a joy to share my days!
As I mentioned Trevar was always pretty healthy, no major
issues until this past year. In October
of 2011 he was to the dr. for routine check-up.
The office was running a “special” complete of basic tests. The tests were non-intrusive so I
agreed. The x-ray showed a suspect mass
on his spleen. We decided to proceed
with surgery. The biopsy was
returned…hemangiosarcoma. It was a
devastating blow! After reading the literature on this disease we realized it typically
did not have a good outcome as the disease often spreads throughout the blood vessels
going undetected for some time. 180 days
was the common life expectancy I found. While there were no other visible signs
of disease, the prognosis was given as poor due to the nature of the
illness. Since he seemingly was feeling
good we opted for a few rounds of chemo hoping to keep him comfortable and with
us a bit longer. Much to our surprise he
surpassed the “typical 180 days,” and even upon his death (we had just run ultrasounds
and blood work) there were no signs of cancer anywhere. He was a miracle! We apparently caught the disease very early,
obviously and thankfully before the tumor burst and the disease spread. I advocate for those “special tests,” it
saved his life.
So Trevar did well for many months after his spleenectomy
and his chemo. When we returned for a
follow-up ultrasound, it was discovered that his gall bladder was very
congested and needed to be removed. An
MRI taken due to a suspicious lesion on his spine (which turned out to be
nothing) also verified the need for his gall bladder to come out. So off for another surgery. We assumed his lack of appetite was due to
the gallbladder issue, but apparently we were wrong. SOMETHING stopped him from
eating. We decided since he was healthy
otherwise that this was a temporary situation and opted to place a feeding
tube. He did very well gaining his
weight and sharing his usual Scottie spirit and spunk. When you have one who is dependent for the
basics like food, it can be a worry as I always was concerned about what would
happen if I wasn’t there. His feedings
went well for the most part and true to Trev’s form (which is a vision I will
always remember) he would often throw his backwards and look up at me with
those big brown eyes during feedings. I never
knew quite why he did that but I know he waited for me to smooch the bridge of
his nose and tell him was handsome. I
wonder now if he was trying to tell me something. As time went on I was feeling
more and more like it might a swallowing issue while one doctor thought it
might be reflux preventing him from actually eating. We started him on reflux medicines but also
scheduled him for an endoscopy. He was
healthy and all his tests were normal so we decided to go ahead in hopes we
could get him back to eating on his own.
A week before the scheduled procedure I began to fall ill. Several trips to our local Emergency Room
left me without any appropriate medical care and illness was beginning to
overwhelm me. And of course my concern
was Trev’s feeding. As I lay in bed
feeling very unwell Trev came to me and was breathing very rapidly-I knew
something was wrong, seriously wrong. He
just kept looking at me and breathing heavier and faster. My heart broke. Because I was so sick I couldn’t get him to
the vet. My husband Rob had to drive 50
miles back home from work to pick him up and take to the doctor. What an emotional time! It was determined he had aspirated somehow
and now had pneumonia. But everyone was
hopeful as he recovered nicely from this once before. I went back to the ER and came home again without
treatment. Trev fortunately was being
treated and seemingly on the road to recovery once again. Three days later I finally was admitted to
the hospital. I couldn’t go to see Trev
and he couldn’t see me, a bother but I was glad he was being helped. And then he took a turn for the worse…he had
developed pneumonia in his other lung and was not doing well. I was hysterical! I couldn’t physically leave the hospital due
my illness (and I sarcastically thank the doctors who did not treat me right in
the beginning of my illness and allowed the illness to take over my body). Because
what happened next is a dagger to my heart.
Trev began to go downhill fast, he struggled to breathe. He was 33 miles
away and there was nothing I could do.
My husband went down to be with him, my wonderful regular vet came in on
his day off (again) and called to give me the sad news…”it was time.” Oh how my heart just shattered but I couldn’t
allow him to suffer. Rob put the phone
to his ear and with as much calm as I could muster in my hysteria, I told him “he
was my good boy always.” He died very peacefully
with my husband holding him and our vet letting him go. I never got to see him
or hold him again.
My grief is like a blade slicing raw meat. I am not only overwhelmed and saddened by the
sudden loss of my friend but by the turn of events that occurred. If I would have been treated immediately I
could have been there to say good bye as the day I was discharged would have
been the same number of days up to Trevar’s passing. So medicine cheated my body and my heart,
AGAIN! I also have a spiritual struggle with this as well. My prayers are simple and I don’t think overzealous. I pray every morning and evening and ask for
just one simple thing…”Please Dear Lord allow me to be with the pets you have
so blessed me with in this life, that I may be with them when they have to
leave this world.” My prayer, my simple
prayer…was not answered. The innocence
of an animal, one suffering alone without the companion who gave him security,
tears me apart. I don’t understand. I battle my spirituality with this act. This compounds my grief as my faith has
always pulled me through, and now I struggle.
Why?
Trevar is and always
will be special to me. He has my heart. I can only hope with time the grief and the “struggle”
will ease. I miss him every minute of
every day, that “funny little guy.” I
have had a scottie in my life for 41 years and there is a very empty space
right now. Anyone who has loved a pet and lost them knows most of these
feelings. We all love our pets and
that’s what makes them a treasure and a joy to have, and a heartbreak when they
leave us. We all have to “go” at some point but I had always hoped and prayed
that the love and joy given to me so freely by Trev and so many others fur friends
could be shared in a final act of holding them when “go.” All I wanted was to at
least be there when they had to leave so they knew my love to the very
end. That was taken from me with
Trev. I was unable to be there and it
literally has torn me. I can’t bear to
think of him leaving not feeling my touch or offering him our shared security
in each other. He was always there for
me throughout my pains and illnesses and God did not allow me there for our
final good-bye. I struggle to comprehend
this daily.
