This will be a different kind of story to share on my fundraising page. I appreciate the chance to tell it here. Those of us who ride are incredibly grateful to the PMC for giving us a way to turn our grief—and our hope—into the positivity of raising funds for Dana-Farber.
Monday, July 28, 2025
The weight of watching our sweet dog Hazel suffer was lifted this morning when we let her go.
Six and a half years ago, Hazel—a pit bull terrier mix (with Labrador, Golden Retriever, and Australian Shepherd)—was rescued with her mother and siblings from a riverbed on the Wind River Reservation in Wyoming. Our daughter Abigail fostered her during the isolation period required by the Jackson Animal Shelter. Abigail and her fiancé, Alex, gave her the best possible start. After only a couple of days, Abigail insisted Hazel belonged with us.
We had been just as insistent that we weren’t getting another dog after our 15-year-old yellow lab passed away two years earlier. But if you know Abby, you know resistance is futile. She was right. Hazel belonged with us.
I’ve filled my profile gallery with Hazel so you can see for yourself how she fit into our life. I wish you could have known her sweet, stubborn, intelligent personality.
Two months ago, we brought her to Tufts Emergency Veterinary Treatment. Hazel was known to go on the occasional hunger strike, but this was different—she had barely eaten for days and was clearly nauseous and fatigued. The team at Tufts was wonderful but gave us the worst possible news: Hazel had advanced medium-to-large cell lymphoma.
We thought, Okay, people get lymphoma, they get treatment, and many go into remission. But dogs don’t respond the same way to chemo. The side effects can be harsher, and the remission period shorter—typically only six months to two years, even with sixteen weeks of treatment and stressful vet visits.
Tufts recommended Prednisone. Dogs generally respond well, and we were told we might get one to three more good months with Hazel.
Prednisone worked. It gave us Hazel back—with full appetite and energy—until the last two weeks. Then her suffering returned, worsening each day as the treatment lost its power. This morning, we said goodbye in the gentlest way possible for her.
This weekend, when I ride, I’ll carry so many people and memories in my heart. I know the grief of losing a pet isn’t the same as losing a loved one. But this just happened. And it is cancer. And when we ride, we move a little closer to ending the grief that cancer leaves behind.
The power of the PMC—with Dana-Farber—to change the history of cancer is unmatched. Please join me in that effort with a tax-deductible donation.
