Boris Fredrick Schell
July 4, 1993- September 12, 2000

Boris' Story

During the summer of my last year of college my roommate and best friend snuck in our apartment a huge bundle of brown fluff. It was an 8-week-old Rottweiler, Yellow Labrador mix that her boyfriend adopted. The little guy was named Reagan and was the result of two neighborhood dogs that got out. Reagan was with us a lot while Wes went to class, although we had no clue how important socialization was he definitely was not lacking in that department. His daily routine consisted of pool trips to the beach, happy hour, BBQ's and fraternity parties. We took him everywhere with us but because he was such a big boy it got to the point where he could hardly fit comfortably anymore in my friends VW bug.

I graduated and headed home when a few months later I got a call from my friend asking if I wanted Reagan since Wes got a job that required traveling. I asked my parents since I was once again living with them and it was decided that it was okay. I went to pick him up and was shocked to see how at seven months he was huge, so much for bringing home a small pup. Thankfully my parents were out of town for a week so Reagan and I had a chance to get some sort of routine down and get him re-potty trained.

First off was the job of changing his name, Reagan had beautiful brownish red fur with black tips and a perfect mask over his face. He was a big, stocky boy and needed a robust name to go with his his stature. The name "Boris" came to mind and seemed to fit him perfectly. After a few months of living with my parents and chewing things he was not supposed too I decided it was time to get our own place. I got us an apartment, which was perfect since I was fresh out of college and did not own much so he didn't have that much stuff to destroy.

Boris, being a mix, was not blessed with the greatest structure. He was bow legged and had a swagger when he walked. He had a huge head and chest and was about 24" at the withers and 125 lb.. Many of my friends and family would often call him such nicknames as linebacker, coffee table, and refrigerator. Unfortunately, to go with his huge torso he had these skinny legs. Now that I look back and know about structure I cringe and can't believe that those little legs held up that huge powerful body.

Boris by nature was a dominant boy but his dominance was an alpha status that other dogs seemed to sense and respect. We frequented local dog parks and he felt it was his duty to break up dog fights and stare down the bully and put him in his place. Never once did he start a fight and never once was he challenged, dogs just seemed to know he was the boss and would turn and walk away. He loved most people but did not understand kids since he was hardly around them.

I was his main person and he was very protective of me, in fact I would say in about three different occasions he saved me from potentially dangerous situations. One of them was when I lived on the ground floor of an apartment building. It was summer and Boris was sleeping outside on the patio while I was fast asleep inside. In the middle of the night I hear screaming and some one in my patio yelling "Oh Sh*t a dog" then scrambling and running off. Some one had hopped my fence and I think was considering breaking in, they did not see Boris who blasted out of his dog house and busted through the picket fence to give chase. I never really found out what happened but I also think about what might have happened if I did not have him. Boris had many friends old and young, canine and people. Something about him was very charismatic; people were just naturally drawn to him. We became very close to another group of dog owners that lived close by, I have to thank Boris because many of those people have become close friends and still are to this day.

I really feel that Boris came to me during a perfect time of my life when I was young, and not really sure the direction I was heading. I had different jobs, different apartments and boyfriends, and was trying to figure out the best path to take in life. During this time of uncertainty he was my stability and constant companion, he protected me and gave me the courage to be on my own. He never complained when we moved from apartment to apartment, or when I lost my job or when we had to move in with roommates. I made a promise to Boris that if it was the last thing I was going to do I promised that I would get him a place with a nice yard.

Life seemed to be going well, we moved to another town and settled there for a few years. My job was good and I had been dating the same person for a number of years. I was finally able to get us a nice two bedroom place with a yard for him, that yard that he never had growing up (we always lived in apartments of some sort). Boris was five when we moved into our place and shortly after being there for a few months he developed a limp that would not go away.

The first vet told me it was a sprain and gave him rymidal and told him to stay rested for a few weeks. It seemed to help slightly but nonetheless he still had the limp. We went back to his original vet from my old town he looked at him and pulled fluid from his leg to test for a tumor but that too came out negative. He suggested that we go see an orthopedic specialist in which we did. The specialist manipulated his leg and told me that he had a torn ACL cruciate; although I was bummed I was happy that we finally had an answer and that it was repairable. We set an appointment for surgery and brought him in the very next morning. He was on the table and prepped for surgery when the surgeon called me saying they noticed that the lymph node on the back of his leg was swollen and that it would be best to hold off surgery. They drew fluid and sent it in to be analyzed in which it came back positive for a rare form of bone cancer. I can't tell you how shocked and devastated and pissed off I was. I could not understand why this was happening to Boris and I, this was suppose to be the happiest time in my life because my boyfriend recently proposed to me. I always pictured my wedding day and in that happy picture (as corny as it may sound to some) was my boy Boris as my ring bearer.

I wanted the best medical care for Boris so I brought him up to the University Of Davis Medical School where they diagnosed him with Histiocytic Sarcoma. They pretty much told me that he had two months to live because the cancer had spread from his leg lymph node to his abdomen and that amputation was out of the question. They callously told me to not bother with chemo and that he would most likely fracture his leg from the bone cancer and then sent me on my way home. Needless to say I was so devastated and upset; I didn't realize a person could cry so many tears. My eyes were in a constant state of being swollen. I woke up after two days of crying straight through and looked at Boris' happy face that was so full of life, in that moment he just seemed to tell me "I'm not giving up mom, we're fighting this". Okay, I know that Davis is one of the best vet schools but something in my gut said to get a second opinion. I called the doctor at Davis one more time and question and pleaded him asking if he was sure that there was absolutely nothing we can do for him? I inquired about chemotherapy and he told me that it was a waste of money for his type of cancer. I finally asked for a list of other Oncologists in the state and I thankfully found one that was in my own town.

We set an appointment and saw the doctor who was very nice and kind, she was surprised that despite his limp how active and full of life he was. She suggested that we try a couple rounds of chemo and warned me that it would not be cheap, I spoke with my fiancé and we decided to do it. After each treatment his lymph nodes got smaller and smaller and his legs were x-rayed every few weeks. After three rounds of treatments his lymph nodes went completely down and the cancer that was eating away at his bone stopped and remained the same. He went into remission for a good seven months and never once did he have a reaction to the drugs, he had a great appetite and hardly limped any more. One of the goals we set out that fall was that Boris would live long enough to go up to the snow since he had never seen snow his whole life and I'm proud to say he was able to obtain that goal. Since that was the first day he ever saw snow he was so excited and hiked for about 4 miles that day, it was such a glorious and memorable day.

Shortly after that fun day Boris started to limp again and tests showed that his lymph nodes were growing back so we started him on another round of chemotherapy. He held steady like this for a few months eating on and off and still wanting to go out on short walks around the block. During this time I can't even begin to explain the amount of stress I was going through, the constant knot in my stomach, the feeling I had every time I had to run an errand and come home I would pray that he would still be alive. Every sneeze I would analyze, constantly watching him when he slept to make sure he was still breathing. During this time I was in my late 20's but I think this is the time I started to age and sprout my first gray hairs.

Boris loved to sleep on my bed when I was not home and since he could no longer get up on it my we took the box frame down and put the mattress on the floor so he could easily get on and so I could be closer to him at night. Early one morning I was watching him and thought I heard a slight cough which set a lump to my throat, sure enough he did it a few more times that day. Later that day we headed to the vet when I assisted him into the car from his rear end he yelped and from that point on his tail did not work. This was such a bummer for me because I always felted Boris smiled with his tail, that constant thumping on the floor whenever we walked by it was such a big part of his personality. The x-rays showed that the cancer was now in his lungs and she thought perhaps on some part of his spine, which was pinching a nerve and not allowing his tail to work. So more chemo was given to keep his lungs clear. By this time it was Aug. of 2000 and I was nearing a point that I'm sure every pet owner dreads, what time is the right time to say good bye. On one hand I want to be selfish and keep him forever on the other I want him to not suffer and I want him to still have dignity when he dies. A friend recommended to assist me in this question that I get in touch with an animal communicator to help me during this difficult time.

I was very skeptical at first and with our initial conversation was very vague with what I told her, my main question for her was if he was ready to go or not. Our next conversation she had his answer and blew me away with nailing every one of his ailments along with his answer that he was not yet ready. I kept in touch with her for the next few weeks and some how it was a big relief to be able to talk with her and find out what he wanted. Early one morning when I was getting ready for work I noticed a few drops of blood on the carpet and looked for Boris and saw that he had a nosebleed, I held a towel and it stopped after a few minutes. Although this was a small nosebleed and it stopped, something in my gut told me that we were really close to the end. I was freaking out because the doctor that we have been dealing with for over a year was getting ready to go on vacation for a week, I called her and she agreed the end was coming soon and she told me he could no longer be on Chemo because his platelets level was too low. I called the animal communicator and she told me that Boris was ready to go; I hung up the phone and cried so hard, knowing that I would have to abide by his wishes. The weird thing is after that call Boris was standing up which he hardly did any more and just kept looking at me as if saying, "Hey I'm ready". I made a few phone calls to talk to friends and a very special friend that was like Boris' second mom wanted to be with him at the end so she booked a fight from Ohio to fly out to CA. but she was not going to be in town for a day or so. I felt foolish but I called the animal communicator and asked if he was okay to hold on for a day or too and explained why she said that he was okay with it and after that call he laid down on his bed to get comfortable and relax.

The last two days were filled with tons of his friends quietly filing in and out of my place coming to say good by and giving kisses to him and recalling their favorite memories of him. He actually ate really good that weekend (a steak, his favorite) and to top it off for some reason his tail started working again, enough so he can give you a tiny wag. His best doggie friend came over and he was actually carrying around a raw hide and chewed it slightly, of course seeing him like that made me doubt that I was doing the right thing. The next morning Boris woke us up by standing over the bed to say good morning which he hardly did anymore, my fiancé noticed that my friend Judy just pulled up and as Boris saw her he suddenly got a really bad nose bleed, I ran to get a towel and I knew that he was letting go, this nose bleed would not stop. At that same moment a doctor called with his last test results saying they were really bad and off the chart I told them to prep a room for us because we were coming in.

I sat in the back with him for the final car ride over there; I swear that moment now almost four years later seems like it was in slow motion. I thought about all the rides we had taken to this office in the last year and could not believe this would be our last, I couldn't believe this was my last few moments with him it was as if his six short years were flashing before my eyes. They had the room prepped and explained what was going to happen, I spent some time with him alone telling him what a great friend he has been then a lot of the staff that had dealt with him that last year was with us for the final moments. It was a real peaceful good bye.

Coming home to my place with out him was so weird, for six years I had my best friend by my side in some weird way my place seemed so empty, big and almost loud with out him. I felt empty, for so long I had always thought of me as an us and suddenly I had to look at whom I was with out him. I put in one last call to the communicator to thank her and she surprised me by saying that his spirit will only be gone for a short time and that he will definitely be back to me soon, and scariest of all she described how he would look when he came back and lets just say she described a Leonberger perfectly with out her even knowing what the breed was or me telling her about them.

I ended up getting Cyrus (my current boy) from a weird turn of coincidences, he was originally adopted out but was returned to the breeder after a few weeks, when I got this call from a breeder friend who said that there was a puppy available in my area, being a few months before my wedding I was waiting until the fall to get a new pup. After doing some research and seeing him I knew he was meant to be with me. Is my Boris' spirit in Cyrus I have no idea, all I know is that Boris had my heart and Cyrus has another chunk of it, they are as opposite as they can be and one can never replace the other. I really feel that Boris accomplished whatever mission he had in this lifetime, and part of me thinks it was to watch over me. When I became engaged he handed that responsibility over to my fiancé and knew he no longer had to worry about me and that I was in safe hands and that he could continue with his next journey.I can't even explain how much that boy taught me during his life and even after in his death. From the moment I got him he ignited a passion I never knew I had in me, I started on a constant quest of learning and reading about dogs from canine health, nutrition, training, fitness and structure. Although Boris was not a pure breed dog, or had the best structure, or any titles for that matter he was a star in my eyes the best friend any one could ask for I can't thank him enough for all that he gave me.