Windsor of Whimsey-On-Why, C.D., C.G.C., T.D.I. (November 27, 1987 - March 11, 1998) Pawprints On My Heart How do you say goodbye to your best friend, your soul mate? When do you stop the tears even though you have four other sets of sweet, brown eyes looking at you? What makes one Westie so special? October 31st 1997 was the day I discovered my beloved Windsor had transitional cell carcinoma, bladder cancer. No cure could be obtained through medicine and surgery to remove the tumor would result in Windsor having to wear a "bladder bag" which I didn't feel was an option. She was prescribed a very effective pain killer called Feldene (Piroxicam). In my distress and sadness, I canceled Halloween, sat in a back bedroom with Windsor in my lap and cried my eyes out. She fell asleep and though my back was screaming in pain, I didn't move for three hours. I held my precious Westie and wondered what the next few months would bring. I decided I was not going to put her "on a shelf" and worry about everything she did. What little time she had would be spent having the usual fun, as long as she could manage. Her astonishing sense of humor helped me keep things in perspective. Diapers for her were the first necessity on the list since most of her bladder control was virtually eliminated by the ever growing tumor. I found myself in the grocery store looking at an item I'd never had experience with. What baby butt size fits a Westie? Thank goodness diapers are sized by weight so I purchased the one Windsor weighed. I had to modify them slightly by cutting a tail hole. Windsor LOVED her diapers and now felt less embarrassed when she had an accident. Every person who came to my house had to admire Windsor's diaper, she made sure of it! I read everything I could get my hands on about TCC. The internet was an invaluable source of information. I got several fantastic ideas from a woman who dedicated a web page to her dog who had died of TCC. I fed Windsor anything she would eat including lamb chops and salmon. I dosed her with immune boosting vitamins. Christmas came and Windsor had the best one of her life. In January we made another trip to the specialist who told me he hadn't expected her to live past November. He said whatever I was doing, keep it up. One thing loomed in the distance. My trip to England with Westie club friends Marilyn and Diana. Many months earlier we had made plans to travel together to see the world famous Crufts Dog Show. Now I had to hope and pray Windsor would survive while I was gone. Our trip would span 9 days. Windsor was left in the very capable hands of my wonderful parents. I'm sure I was not the best travelling companion for Marilyn and Diana, because a dark mood overcame me as I worried and wondered about my girl. Reports from home eased my mind somewhat but then it would wander. Was she really okay? I returned from England on March 10th. Windsor had not eaten for the past day and a half. Mom and Dad told me the liveliest they had seen her all week was the moment I walked in the door. The next day she still wouldn't eat. I didn't force her. I knew her time was near. I debated whether to take her on to the vet so she wouldn't have to endure the final days or even hours of death. As this thought crossed my mind, Windsor looked up at me with piercing eyes, "Don't you dare have me put to sleep, I want to do this on my own!" I cried a river. As the day went on, the weather became slightly warmer. I bundled Windsor up for what I knew would be her final trip to the dog yard. I laid her on the new soft grass and let her feel the sun and the breeze. She looked across the yard at her prized possession, her Boomer Ball. I brought it to her. She rose on weak, trembling legs and gave it three shoves. She stumbled over to the fence and nosed our cat Keika. She told me it was time to go in. She was satisfied. Around six that evening, she began the first stages of that mysterious journey we call death. As she lay in a coma, I had to be thankful that now the rest seemed easy. For hours I watched and waited. I held her, I talked to her. As her breathing became quicker, I told her that it was okay to go. I held her paw. At 11:57pm, March 11th, the day of my birth, Windsor passed quietly into Heaven. My Dearest Windsor, I don't know if God has Boomer Balls and dog biscuits but I do know He loves me very much because He gave me you. He also knew I couldn't bear to make the decision to end your life and He took you in the sweetest, gentlest way possible. I miss your silliness and the incredible connection that we had. You were my first Westie and my first obedience and therapy dog. You did all the stupid pet tricks I asked of you. You had me trained well too. I was such a sucker for your every whim. And you were worth it! Have fun and always remember how much you meant to me. Until we meet again. Love, Mama In loving memory of Windsor of Whimsey-On-Why, C.D., C.G.C., T.D.I. November 27, 1987 - March 11, 1998 Jane Fink (Reprinted with loving permission from Jane Fink) If you have a tribute you would like to have included, please send it to webmaster@westielovers.com Top of Page Previous Page Westie World Site Index  Next Page