An Ode to Charles and One of His Favourite Foods: Frittata.

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Every November 2nd, I'm mentally transported back to the horror and despair of three years ago.

It's the day that started the rapid decline and almost loss of our beloved golden man, Charles.

On November 1st, everything was normal. Charles and I even went for a twelve kilometre run because we were training for a half marathon and he was the same pulling/sniffing/greeting/running idiot like usual.

On the 2nd, he was a little bit more tired during the day, but twelve kilometres was also the longest we had run yet during our training, and he was still himself just with an extra nap or two, so of course I wasn't concerned.

That night, things were different. He woke me up multiple times by whining and pressing his very warm forehead against mine (he sleeps on the bed, even though I had vowed to my husband when we first got him that that would never happen. I think I lasted 7 months.).

I called the vet in the morning and he could get in that afternoon. As I watched him do his business outside throughout the day (yep, poop-watch. It's something I never thought I'd be doing in my life but apparently every dog owner does it when their pup is sick-- check the poop, it's usually a good indicator of illness), I noticed a chocolate bar wrapper in the corner of the lawn. I didn't know if it had been blown there by the wind, if someone had just littered in our yard, or if it had been full before my pup found it, but now I was worried he had been poisoned by chocolate, not knowing then how much simpler of a diagnosis that would have been than what we were about to go through.

At the vet, Charles perked up, of course, looking nothing like the sad moping dog he had been. He's a people-dog. They ruled him out for poisoning and did a few other tests but otherwise they just told me to watch him. And back to our home we went.

He woke me up more persistently throughout the night that night and would not leave my side the next day. Back to the vet. More tests. No more answers. Back home.

On the third night, I don't think we slept. And in the morning he couldn't stand without help. Throughout the day, he started to get weaker and weaker on his right side, standing with assistance then circling wildly as his right legs would give out and he was trying to balance himself with his left side until he collapsed with anguished cries.

Even in this sick state, the vets had no idea what to do with him. We had every single blood test done that could be taken, some of which were even sent to specialized clinics in the States. All they could do was give him painkillers. He was at least still eating and drinking up until then.

That night, however, he started vomiting every hour and refused all food and drink. Early in the morning, we took him the emergency animal hospital where he was admitted for severe dehydration and attached to an IV and monitored.

Throughout all this, we tried to keep our cool. We tried to remain hopeful and keep things as normal for our daughter as possible. But it was so hard. He's really not just a dog, he's a child of ours. Like I've described him in other posts, he is my rock.

So we waited.

Then we got a call from the hospital saying that they had been in talks with a neurology clinic in Langley and that they would take him in there. From what they could deduce, there was something happening within his brain and it was only at this clinic, which had a full MRI machine, that we were likely to get the answers he needed. We didn't even hesitate. Within an hour we had packed up a quick suitcase, got our sweet Charles, and were headed to Langley.

I think that was the fastest we've ever made that trip. Let's just say posted speed limit signs meant nothing at that moment and pure adrenal fueled us there.

Charles had an MRI as well as a spinal tap and we finally got an answer. He had encephalitis in his pituitary gland, caused by either lymphoma or an autoimmune disease. Both present the same. Both are treated the same. The only difference is that an autoimmune disease can be reversed permanently through chemotherapy and lymphoma can only be sent into remission, but will eventually return, and while it can be put off by further chemo sessions, it would still cause a premature death.

I'm sobbing as I type this. This was the hardest thing we've ever had to face.

Charles' life was our decision.

He was only two.

My husband and I both cried harshly when we were told the news, but once our initial outbursts were over, we looked at each other and didn't even have to speak. We told the neurologist to start the chemo. It was the only choice to us. He had barely lived his life. He deserved all we could do.

We said our goodbyes to him before we headed to our hotel for the night, unsure of what was going to happen. We didn't sleep much at all.

The next morning, we were to head back to Kelowna. We had had no idea of what to plan for when we had hurriedly packed, so we had only grabbed a few articles of clothing and the basics and weren't prepared to stay longer. There wasn't much we could have done had we stayed any way. His first round of chemo was to last four days.

To say our goodbyes, we had been placed in a small, quiet room with wooden chairs and soft lighting. We waited a few minutes while the nurse detached his IV and catheter and led him in. My heart ripped in two when we first saw him. Our ever-lively, bright-eyed boy was replaced by a shuffling, barely cognizant dog who looked years past his age. He kept his head down and when he did lift it, his eyes were so droopy that they could not have been focusing. His tail, usually so tall and swinging wildly, hardly moved and all he could do was lean against a chair and press his head to our shins. For as much as we wanted to stay with him, we knew being in that room was causing him pain. We hugged him as much as we dared and told him repeatedly that we we loved him, willing him to understand.

And then we had to leave him.

The panicked screams of our daughter as we left her best friend there are forever scarred into my brain.

How we wished we could scream too.

I don't remember our drive home. I don't remember the next two days. I only remember leaving our home early on that fourth morning to pick him up for noon. I'm still astonished to think of the difference those three days away from him had made.

While he didn't run to me, he was walking, with his head up-right, his eyes bright, and his butt swinging from side to side. And all the kisses. I could not believe the transformation. And he was coming home. So much weight was lifted off my heart once he was securely fastened into the car.

Our drive home was one of the worst on the Okanagan Connector that I'd ever driven. It was a white-out snow storm, I couldn't see two car-lengths in front of me, and I had no idea where the road actually was because of the foot or so of snow on it. As I was coming down the side of one of the large mountains, ice was sticking to my driver's side wiper and I couldn't see through the streaks it was leaving. I would have pulled over but I could not see the shoulder and I didn't dare get too close to the edge. So I unrolled my window and tried to snap the wiper on my window and ended up breaking the whole thing off in my hand. So now I had no wiper on that side what-so-ever. I drove the rest of the way home leaning over on my passenger side while talking to John on Bluetooth so he would know if I crashed. But for all that, I'd do it again in a heartbeat because I got to bring our Charles home.

He had three more rounds of chemo spaced every three weeks. For all those rounds, my daughter and I stayed in Vancouver and explored as he got the help he needed. And each time we brought home a happier and stronger Charles. He still got headaches though, but he'd press his head against me and we'd sit on the ground, like this, and wait for them to pass.

By the last treatment, he was almost better than ever. He had, however, lost about ten pounds over his ordeal. He had always had problems keeping weight on and had only weighed sixty-five pounds when he had started declining and with his tall stature, the weight loss was extreme. Looking back at pictures, I'm always stunned to see how skinny he was.

One of the longer-lasting effects of his illness was the lack of strength in his back legs. He couldn't jump or even run very much. His last treatment ended in February and it wasn't until May that he was finally able to kick out his back legs when he played or jump up onto our bed without help. It was such a relief when he regained all of his strength.

On February 28th, 2016, 5 months after it all began, he had his very last dose of medication.

And then he started to put weight on like he had never been able to before. He now holds steady at eighty-five to ninety pounds, although he still has to eat lunch like a puppy or else he gets too hungry.

As I said, we didn't know if he had an autoimmune disease or lymphoma when he started his treatment. I watched for every sign of relapse over that first year as that's when it would be likely to come back if it was cancer. A year passed. Then eighteen months. Soon we were at the two year mark and I was breathing easier. And here we are, nearing three whole years of health. That's not to say that I don't panic at the slightest illness in him. But thankfully, we still have the same vet as when Charles first got sick, so he knows his background and always gets us in quickly to make sure that Charles is okay.

And look at him now.

This happy man is living his best life.

He may be crazy, he may love children too much, but he's here with us. He's loving, and funny, and my absolute best friend. He's currently curled on my feet huffing impatiently for playtime as I write this. I could not imagine my life without him.

My daughter couldn't either. And he couldn't live without her.Who gets tons of kisses every morning? It's certainly not the person who he wakes at 4 am for breakfast-- I'm lucky if I get one in his efforts to wake me faster. It's the little person he kisses from head to toe.Who does he walk nicely with? He rips my arm out of my shoulder, but when she holds his leash, he walks as though he's in a pet show.

Who does he ask for a treat from? Ya, just the little person now that he knows that she knows how to get into the cupboard. Those two are quite the pain pair. I swear, I mean pair.Remember in my other post how I mentioned Charles dressing up for Halloween as well? Every princess needs a sidekick, right?

When she was Ariel, he was a shark. Unfortunately, I can't find any pictures of it. Last year, when she was Rapunzel, he was Maximus, the royal guard horse. He was super pumped about it.

I die laughing at this picture every time I see it.

He really is the best sport.

And this year, he was the Beast to her Beauty.

The two of them are just so wonderful together.

I never ever thought I'd raise a child with a dog but now I couldn't have imagined doing it any other way. Or with any other dog.

So in honour of Charles and all the love I have for him, I'm sharing a recipe for one of his favourite foods: frittata. Actually, his favourite is just eggs with anything.

Pesto is his ultimate favourite food on the planet though. The amount of bodily damage he's willing to sustain for one pesto-covered noodle dropped on the floor under a chair is shocking.

But he loves eggs.

We also love eggs in this house. Tiny person and my husband, mostly. They're kind of just as batty about them as the golden guy.

What I love is putting veggies into eggs. It's such a simple way to get my child to eat veggies for breakfast. While she is good about eating veggies at lunch, dinner, and for snacks, savoury breakfasts just aren't her thing. But she'll eat "eggie pie," as she calls it.

My favourite version uses roasted mushrooms and chard.

Oh, delicious beautiful chard.It's my favourite leafy green.It's totally normal to have a favourite. Lalala I can't hear you calling me a loser. Fingers in my ears.

Look at it. Isn't it stunning?This is likely my last local bunch of the year. I just had to use it in a dish everyone would love.

However, FYI, for all our golden guy loves most foods, he hates mushrooms. This infuriated our daughter about two year ago when she was trying to share her mushroom she was chomping on with him. They share all her snacks and she couldn't understand why he wouldn't eat this one. So she pinned him down and although he clamped his lips together as tightly as possible she managed to get the mushroom in there and rub it against his clenched teeth. She has since learnt that we definitely don't treat him that way, and he has learnt that it's easier to hold something he doesn't like in his mouth until she's not looking, then spit it on the ground. Siblings.

But encase a mushroom in egg and he's all over it.

Recipe for Frittata Serves 2 (maybe 3, but we're hungry people in the morning)

1 tbsp. olive oil or butter
1/2 onion, diced
1 bunch of chard, ribs separated from leaves and both chopped
2 cloves of garlic, finely diced
8 mushrooms, chopped6 eggs
1/2 tsp onion powder*
1/2 cup parmesan, grated (optional)
Salt and pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 375 and grease a glass pie pan. A close-fitting spring form pan also works well.
2. Heat the oil in the pan over medium and cook the onions and ribs until they start to soften. Add the mushrooms and garlic and cook until they start to brown. Then add the chopped greens and cook for a minute until they're wilted.
3. In a bowl, beat the eggs with the onion powder, parmesan, and salt and pepper.
4. Dump the veggies into the bottom of the prepared dish. Pour the egg mixture over top, swirling everything gently with a spoon to make sure the egg makes it all the way through the veggies.
4. Cook for 25-30 minutes until cooked through.

*The onion powder adds a flavour that makes people pause and try to place it. It really adds to the whole dish. Although it could be left out and it would still be delicious.

This whole recipe could be doubled or tripled easily, just make sure your pan can accommodate that much volume and keep the egg and veggie ratios the same.

And there it is. Eggie pie.

If you've read all my posts, you'll know that the recipes I share are dead easy. Healthy cooking doesn't have to be fancy. Yes, I do occasionally make over-the-top dishes and they are great fun to prepare, but I'm still a mom and goodness knows I'm perpetually exhausted most days. Simple is best. In an upcoming post, I'll talk more about this idea.

But for now, I'm off to snuggle a dear pup of mine who I couldn't be more lucky to call my own and every day I'm so thankful to still have with us.