Posted January 13, 1999

I had picked this picture from among the ones sent by Victor's new mother for our Happy Endings page because I loved the Husky flanked by Cocker bookends. Victor is on the left. I am deeply saddened to report that he has now gone to Rainbow Bridge.

There is an interesting and sad story behind his name. We called him Victor because of Victor/Victoria. We were told he was a female, and this misconception persisted through a long trip to Maryland from an Ohio pound. He was so matted, no one could find evidence of his "manhood." Our dedicated foster suspected gender confusion when he first arrived at her place, and she watched him arch his back to urinate. Further investigation (and lots of shearing) confirmed her suspicions.

We had originally called him "Hope," and posted his plight in Ohio, hoping he would be placed from there. It was not to be. We were told that "Hope" was "an antique" and had no chance of adoption in that place. We were so lucky that a generous couple were coming to Maryland to adopt our sweet Randall. They agreed to transport "Hope" for us.

Many people went to bat for Victor. The rescuer from Ohio who contacted us originally deserves many thanks. One of our previous adopters and recent house checker is also to be thanked for her role in pulling Victor out of the shelter (after checking Randall's home to be). And, of course, the couple who brought him to us have our undying gratitude. Not to mention his spectacular foster mother, who went above and beyond the call of duty for him. What a conga line! No one at the shelter could believe that we would go to such trouble for "an old girl."

Well, this old boy was very fortunate for a time. A loving woman from Virginia responded to his story and took pity on him. She took him into her home and her heart. She wrote of his passion for pizza in addition to Chinese carryout, and she worried about making him too chubby. Victor was in such a bad way when he came to us, and his new mother fully changed all of that for awhile.

As you can see from the picture, he had two very special canine friends. And then, tragedy struck. I will leave the rest of the story to his loving mother, who is grieving his loss. My heart goes out to her.

I had to put Victor to sleep on January 7. He was diagnosed with lymphosarcoma last September. Because of his age, chemotherapy wasn't an option. We tried an oral chemo pill, but he did not react very well. So he was put on high doses of prednisone, and he did wonderfully with that treatment. The pred shrunk the tumors for awhile and did slow down their growth. He was doing very well until the last couple of weeks, and then he started to deteriorate pretty quickly. 

It seemed like he wanted to hold out until Christmas, which was a wonderful day for him (and included calf's liver for dinner!), but then he just started to go downhill. Only a week ago, he had his bloodwork checked, and everything was fairly good, and the vet thought he had another month or so. But he got much worse over the weekend. Over his last three days he wasn't able to get up on his own and could barely stand once he was up.

It was a very difficult decision to make, but I brought him to the vet on Thursday. He checked him over, and it had spread to his groin area and possibly his spine. His breathing was bad, his kidneys were shutting down, and his blood pressure was very low, so we made the final decision.

Victor went very peacefully, and I stayed with him, with my face directly in front of his, so I would be the last thing he saw. I talked to him throughout, so he left this world knowing he was loved.

He really was a wonderful little dog, and he's going to be very much missed by me, Kodiak and Shannon, and the three cats. After his poor start with the cats, they ended up being the best of friends. In fact, Victor and my youngest male cat were very close, and Onslow (my cat) would follow Victor around. 

Victor spent his last year and a half sleeping on the furniture and in my bed, going for rides in the car, and generally being spoiled. He loved to chew on pig ears and carry around (but not chew on) rawhide bones. 

This has affected me more than I thought it would. I knew he was terminal since September, but I thought I could beat the odds with him. I guess I did, as he lasted longer than the vet thought, but it's really empty here without him. It really is so hard losing him. He was such a good little boy. 

All he wanted was to sit next to you on the sofa or eat people food. I didn't realize how much he was always by my side until he was gone. I get so sad when I think about how much better his entire life would have been if I had had him earlier. Of course that's impossible, but I saw so much potential in the little guy. Like when he took the obedience dumbbell in his mouth the first time -- while I had been struggling for a  year for my Siberian to do this. If you gave him a rawhide bone, he would just walk around with it in his mouth so proudly.

I still remember the look on his face when I got him a collar. He knew it was for him, and he was so proud. As he got more ill, he got very bony and was sensitive to cold. So I got him a fleece coat with a detachable hood. He had that same happy look on his face when I showed it to him: This is mine! He would walk around with that coat on and even the hood, like such a proud boy.

I really miss the little guy. He will always be my handsome boy.