Heavenly Beverley : A Milestone for a Big Dog

Sascha our big, boofy beautiful Weimaraner turned twelve today. Last week she was greeted by our new vet Graeme as "the dog who shouldn't be alive".Which is completely true. And she has been one of the great loves of my life.

Sascha was introduced to our family in the death throes of my first marriage. She needed lots of exercise and I needed an excuse to get out. The house I lived in was disintegrating along with my marriage. Having an energetic puppy gave me an escape. So, she and I became inseparable.

She travelled with us from Perth to the Sunshine Coast and back to Perth. On our return to Perth after an aborted sea change, she saved my life. In the course of six weeks, I returned to my old job at Perth Home Care, bought my house in Marangaroo and caught influenza. I was sinking into an abyss of depression.

I decided to end my life one night. I was drowning in my well of worthlessness. But I was too frightened to walk onto the road in the dark. Right I thought, I'll take Sascha. But that would have meant her death as well. So, I stayed put and continued with my breakdown. Days later, after I took Sascha with me to a mental health appointment, I was admitted to hospital and began my slow recovery. Which continues to this day, with Sascha.

Weimaraners are a breed of dog you either love or loathe. They are intensely social, highly intelligent and easily bored.Sascha was my third Weimaraner. Even so, surviving the first couple of years was difficult. She could be destructive, very destructive. My fernery outside and a couch inside suffered decimation by Sascha. A hole in the bedroom carpet was testament to her excavation skills.

She beat a Mast Cell tumour on her right shoulder that involved two major operations, a year of chemotherapy infusions and having the socks knocked off her white blood cells by the treatment. Plus an incredibly impressive scar. And coping for six months in an Elizabethan collar and not allowed to go on walks. Nearly drove us all nuts.

Then, she has had a benign kilo sized lymphoma removed from her groin because it was cutting off her circulation. Could only happen to our Sascha. More surgery. More recuperation. As ever, she bounced back with added vigour. Super Sascha!

I met Michael and fell in love. So did Sascha and more surprisingly, Pip. They worked out in a nanosecond that Michael was a gentle soul and a good man. We moved in together along with Ruby. The dogs hit it off from the beginning. Sascha and Ruby occasionally have silent disagreements about who is the alpha female, but they are both so easy going that these instances are never an issue.

To Heavenly Beverley with the Three Stooges and the Fickle Fairweather Feline. The House that Rocks, the garden and then the Shops filled our lives with adventure, ingenuity and occasionally disaster. The dogs were present when we married in the garden.

Two years ago, Sascha entered the next fight for her life. A large mass in her belly was investigated by the vet in York. The $700 ultrasound and biopsy were inconclusive. Euthanasia was their only option. Bugger that. We sought a second opinion.

Enter George Huber at Swan Veterinary Hospital. An old friend of Michael's and his previous vet, George was matter of fact. He operated, removed a five kilo tumour and Sascha's spleen and commenced her on a year of oral chemotherapy at home. This stuff was so toxic I had to wear gloves when I handled the tablets.

Sascha took a very long time to recover. At times, I wondered if we'd made the right decision. But her beautiful golden eyes still shone. Slowly, she gained weight. Slowly she resumed a bit of exercise around the property. We changed her diet - first to a concoction I cooked at home and then onto a raw food diet from a company we found in Perth.

Sascha has made a complete and glorious recovery. She's not as fast as she used to be, but she still enjoys her walks and sprinting in short bursts with Pip around the garden. She snores, farts and is occasionally incontinent. Which we treat as needed, so it doesn't become an issue.

She adores us both and we often wake with her nose millimetres from our faces. Or she lifts the bedclothes and pokes Michael in the back. She has a habit of standing in the way as we dress. She sometimes ends up with undies on her head whilst we roar laughing. Pip is still her faithful shadow. He has learnt to play with Ruby as well, so we are not so anxious about his reaction when Sascha does eventually pass.

In the meantime, Sascha is having a ball. She loves and is loved. Happy birthday, big dog. :-)