My wife Donna and I fell in love with a photo on Facebook of a White Labrador Retriever puppy being sold by a relative. Our beloved Chocolate Lab, Chloe, crossed the “Rainbow Bridge” as a fourteen-year-old. We didn’t know if we were ready just yet, but that picture really tugged on our heartstrings. We felt the call.

I’m not naturally religious, but I sincerely believe that I’m a spiritual being. I also believe there is enough evidence to suggest the existence of a higher being (God) and a master plan at work. I’m just not clever enough to define this God or understand what this master plan is. Remember, this is my theory and my hypothesis. I respect that your opinions may differ, but I’m not interested in a debate.

I’m also creative enough to come up with Naguib's answers to the following questions. Why did this happen to me/us?

So why did this happen? Why now? Why me or us? How did it come to this? The answers to these questions, and many more, might only lead to more questions. I didn’t ask Donna, as she’d slap me on the back of the head and tell me to get back to clearing the rooms of puppy-proofing hurdles. The story that follows is real; we did all that, and it was written both during the trip and shortly after. The period spanned from December 2020 to January 2021, during the COVID-19 shutdowns and, more critically, a brutal Canadian winter with temperatures as low as minus 30 degrees Celsius.

We find that we are ready to have another dog.

Five weeks ago, we didn’t even consider getting another dog, let alone a puppy. Donna’s sister Paula planned to spend five days with her family in Mont Tremblant. Due to circumstances in their world, they needed someone to look after Zeus, a Rhodesian Ridgeback. We turned out to be the solution – Donna and I like Zeus. We also missed having a dog since we had to euthanize Chloe, our fourteen-year-old Chocolate Lab, last August. I missed going to the fridge and seeing two eyes looking at me and asking, “What are we getting out of the fridge, Dad? May I have some, too?”

I miss sharing a piece of cheese. I haven’t eaten the ends of bananas in over ten years. With cucumbers and mushrooms, the first pieces of both were exclusively Chloe’s, and I had no right to eat them.

Additionally, after Chloe’s passing, I struggled to find the motivation to wake up to the sun and go for my morning walk. I firmly believed that after picking up dog poop first thing in the morning, I could handle anything that came my way. What could be worse than picking up dog poop? That put a lot of things into perspective.

I used to call my morning walks “Getting out of the warm bed just to slip and slide on the frozen sidewalk to pick up dog poop just to warm my hands shift!”

Zeus was a delight to babysit; afterward, we felt ready for our next four-legged companion.

Curious about timing or part of the master plan?

Donna was looking at a Facebook post by her cousin’s daughter, Rebecca. She posted pictures of their latest litter, including one of the cutest White Labrador Retrievers. After seeing that picture, I asked Donna if she would consider a White one. I guess her answer was yes. She started talking with Rebecca and found out it wasn’t spoken for, and they would let us put dibs on it. When Donna asked me about adopting “Pup 2”, I said, “Let’s go for it”.

The conversation eventually led to Donna asking where the puppy was located. “West of Red Deer in the foothills of the Rockies in Alberta!” That usually would have stopped most people. Not us!

When we discovered they couldn’t mail the pup and we didn’t want the dog to endure a stressful flight, I suggested a road trip! Anyone familiar with me knows I love exploring, especially road trips. Unlike other journeys, this one focused on getting there and back as quickly as possible. The round trip would be about 8,000 kilometres. It would take place during the dead of winter around the Great Lakes, along some of the most challenging highways because of their length and limited services. It’s 1,920 kilometres to drive out of Ontario into Manitoba. Want some perspective? That’s the same distance from our home in Mississauga to the outskirts of Miami, Florida! As a bonus, we could visit our cousins, Monique in Edmonton and Harold in Lethbridge.

Our rules of engagement for car trips

Additionally, winter in the regions we are heading to features some of the harshest weather conditions in the world. Blizzards and lake-effect snow are common. Wawa experiences the worst lake-effect snow from Superior. The Prairies face their own severe weather systems – Alberta gets its “Clippers,” Saskatchewan calls theirs “Screamers,” and Manitoba refers to theirs as "Maulers." I don’t fully understand what a low-pressure system is – in my layperson’s terms, it’s a high-wind storm that crosses the prairies in two to three days. These storms usually don’t produce much snow but can drop 3 to 6 inches quickly. The blizzard conditions make any stretch dangerous to travel. You can’t see 100 yards ahead, and winter weather warnings recommend changing travel plans.

To address that issue, we established two travel rules for this trip. We would travel only in fair weather and during daylight hours. If there were any adverse weather conditions, we would stay put for one, two, or three extra days. We would only see the terrain that was visible from the highway. This wasn't a race or a sightseeing tour. I was only allowed to stop for brief photo stops—no two- or three-hour chases for light and nice compositions.

Overall, we spent 106 hours driving and covered a total of 8,100 kilometres. Weather and road closures prevented us from travelling three times, so we stayed those extra nights in Sault Ste. Marie, Regina, and Cochrane. During the trip, we drove two hours in poor weather and possibly another two or three hours after sunset. There were about three or four hours on snow-packed, icy roads. The rest of the drive was on good to excellent roads—kudos to the snowplowing services in all the provinces. You guys and gals rock!

We were prepared for almost any situation. I bought a steel spare gas tank and filled it. We never passed a gas station when our tanks were even close to half full. We had extra blankets, emergency candles, and even a portable battery booster. I made sure we had a block heater and brought a thirty-foot-long extension cord for overnight plugging in. My guideline for plugging in the car was when the temperature dropped to minus twenty Celsius or below. I plugged in the block heater six times.

I would check the weather and travel conditions in the next three communities on our route. I joined groups that discussed traffic updates and government 511 road reports every morning. We planned early departures, drove as far as we could, and discussed our final destination for that day at lunchtime. At that point, we would book our accommodation for the night. On the return trip, we included a pet-friendly category.

We planned to drive between 500 and 700 kilometres each day. As a reference, in all my years of travel, we typically averaged 90 kilometres an hour, including stops for gas and other breaks. That range of 500 to 700 kilometres meant driving for about five and a half to eight hours.

The followers of the Kerba’s Odyssey

Our daughter, Tara, somewhat volunteered to babysit our cat and house. In the past, we would have updated family and friends by posting a Facebook event for the day. However, since Tara also had our granddaughter Ri with her, we avoided a Facebook update for safety reasons. Instead, we informed family and friends via email. As our journey continued, more people asked to be included, and the follower list grew. We were amazed at how many people followed our road trip. Some were genuinely concerned about our safety and appreciated knowing we reached each destination safely each night. Eventually, we also learned that many shared in our adventures. Often, when I was late to send the update, I would receive a text or call encouraging us to share our progress for the day.

The joyful hand-off

We didn’t have an exact pick-up date as our trip entirely depended on the weather. We didn’t have any clue how the weather would cooperate. By mid-week of the first week, we scheduled to pick up Willow on Saturday, eight days after we left home. This included a three-night visit with my cousin in Edmonton.

Friday, we get a text from Rebecca, our breeder. The puppies had an eye discharge that bothered her enough to take all three to their vet. He wanted to keep them under observation overnight or possibly over the weekend. We accommodated her by spending an extra night on the road chasing wild horse photo opportunities in the foothills of the Rockies.

The dogs’ eyes improved dramatically enough that the vet released them in Rebecca’s charge and gave her the go-ahead for us to pick Willow up and head home. Unfortunately, one puppy was in worse shape than the other two, and the vet decided to do different tests on her.

We changed our plans again and arranged to pick Willow up on Sunday. We would have lunch with Rebecca’s family, then head from that area on to Lethbridge. The whole time we were there, Willow was a ball of energy, chasing one or another of the children. She loved grabbing the socks of the four-year-old.

Willow was born on a farm southwest of Red Deer in the foothills of the Rockies. She was the only white one in a litter of three. She was the most significant, lively, and innovative of the litter, but I am biased. There were four children to play with and a farm to explore. I’m not an expert on farming operations or sizes, but I sensed it was a relatively small operation. They had forty head of cattle. If my memory serves me correctly, about fifteen horses and around fifteen goats. I’m only using Rebecca’s name, and out of concern for their privacy, I’m not sharing her husband’s or children’s names.

The triumphant return trip home

Eventually, after we picked up Willow, it became her showcase as photos of her were shared widely. Our email list grew, and we gained followers from Australia to Greece. We kept receiving requests for more photos from a friend’s cousin who lived in Greece.

On the road, complete strangers would stop what they were doing to pet her. Parking lots and hotel lobbies were Willow's opportunities to show off. She enjoyed it immensely. As soon as she saw someone new, she would stare at them until they gave in and came to greet her. When they did, she would be up on her hind legs, tail wagging like crazy. I think she was trying to tell them that we were abducting her and taking her to Ontario.

Three of those opportunities for Willow come to mind:

The first was in Regina when I entered the hotel lobby after a potty break (Willow’s). Another snowbound traveller was checking in. He stopped the process when he saw us coming in and asked me to wait while he went to get his wife so they could all pet her.

East of Thunder Bay, at a trucker rest area, two young guys in pickup trucks pulled over – one to answer nature’s call. One of them jumped out of his vehicle and asked if he could pet her, and they quickly became friends.

In Kapuskasing, the hotel lobby clerk was so in love with Willow that we had to stop each time we passed the lobby, so they could both play and cuddle.

We notice a leg tremor.

I’m not sure if we noticed a minor leg tremor on the first or second night with Willow. Additionally, she was somewhat restless late at night or needed more exercise to sleep. Donna took her for walks up and down the hotel lobby until 3:00 AM to help me get some sleep and stay fresh enough to drive. I would try to take her for a run outside each day, and she loved it.

Willow was a smart one. It didn’t take her long to realize that she would get “Good Potty Willow” once she peed. She would immediately turn around and sit down, expecting a treat. She wasn't budging until she got that treat. Interestingly, her other constitutional need had to be elevated on a snowbank or drift. She would zig-zag constantly, looking for a higher elevation to do the deed. She was followed by a quick turn and sitting in anticipation of that treat.

One night, I played fetch with her inside the hotel room. She trained me to throw a ball to the far end of the room. Just like that, when she retrieved it and dropped it in front of me, she expected my Pavlovian response of giving her a treat. As I mentioned, she was a quick learner. Meanwhile, the tremor was growing stronger.

We had to take a different route home. Instead of Highway 17 along Lake Superior, a weather advisory forced us to take the inland route and Highway 11. Our destination was Cochrane, but we stopped in Kapuskasing instead because it was too dark to continue on Friday night.

A significant winter storm was about to hit our route directly. We decided to leave Kapuskasing early Saturday morning and cover as much ground as possible. We reached Cochrane two hours later and chose to be cautious by staying at the first pet-friendly option. The hotel agreed to let us check in before 11:00 AM. Saturday night wouldn’t be spent in our beds after all. The tremor was worsening, and after lunch, Willow threw up six times in quick succession. She was reluctant to eat and drink. We gave her Gravol, but she remained restless. Since she refused water, we started giving it to her with a syringe.

There wasn’t a comfortable position for Willow to settle into. She would lie down somewhere, then whine and shift to a different position in what seemed to be fifteen to twenty seconds. We still faced an eight-hour drive, and I needed some sleep. I eventually had to put in earplugs while Donna held, cuddled, and stroked Willow to help her settle. At 3:00 AM, I noticed that Rebecca had texted us earlier to say that the sickly pup was diagnosed with distemper.

A quick search suggested that the previous issues with the eyes, vomiting, and tremors indicated Willow might have the same virus. But how could this be? She appeared to be in perfect health, running and playing enthusiastically. Willow was the largest of all the pups; as Donna said, she was perfect and lively – yet, denying the possibility of that disease affecting her wouldn’t help us in the slightest

What exactly is Canine Distemper

Put simply, it is a dull virus that has no cure. If it infects a puppy before all vaccines are given, the death rate is extremely high. Canine distemper occurs worldwide, but in the developed world and countries like Canada, cases are infrequent because of the vaccines.

In our search for help and outreach efforts, we consulted three experienced veterinarians connected to us through family, friends, and work colleagues. None of them had encountered a dog with distemper. Symptoms seem to progress, and once the virus reaches the brain, it can cause a significant decline, or they may remain constant.

It’s highly contagious and can be transmitted from wild animals such as raccoons, skunks, or coyotes to dogs. Once in dogs, everyone will experience a disease progression that varies based on circumstances, such as the stage of vaccination. How old is the puppy or dog? How healthy is the host?

The final leg home

We left Cochrane as early as possible, knowing that time was critical. It was still nearly eight hours until we reached home. We didn’t know if there was any medication we could give Willow to calm her, as she was becoming extremely restless. We stopped the car every hour to give her some non-car time and a bathroom break. The only medication available was Gravol; she had already received the recommended dose. She drank water from her bowl and ate food from my hands.

Willow was uncomfortable, and her rate and volume of yelping increased – it was now almost like a coyote howling. The sound in the car was very distressing for all three of us. First, we began reaching out to the areas we were travelling through.

North Bay was a three-hour drive away. We called the emergency hospital. The first question was whether they would see our sick pet. The answer was a definite no after they found out we were not local patients. To make matters worse, no one could recommend anything over the phone. I don’t have any better options. We understand how difficult times are for vets these days. We also know how stressful everyone is becoming and how overwhelming life feels. All we knew was that we had a distressed puppy in our lap.

We started reaching out to friends who know other vets—the consistent answer was, “I haven’t seen a case like this in my career. Unfortunately, if the diagnosis is correct, it will be one of the worst outcomes.” During the three hours between leaving Cochrane and arriving home, we asked our daughter to set up an online account for a vet Zoom session. She did so, though she struggled with setting up verification codes. We then used the account, pulled off the highway onto a side road with a steady signal strong enough for the Zoom call. It would have been too easy if everything worked perfectly at first—we had video but no sound. Eventually, the vet called Donna on her phone for audio and my phone for video. The diagnosis was Distemper. The best course of action was to notify an emergency hospital, alert them, and take her in as soon as possible.

The next available emergency hospital serving the area from Huntsville to Orillia was in Barrie. That hospital was only an hour from our home hospital. We called them and informed them we were five to six hours away, asking them to prepare for our arrival. One of our free emergency hospitals, capable of serving the region from Huntsville to Orillia, was in Barrie. We contacted them and told them our estimated arrival time. A friend advised us to call the hospital once we were closer, so they could arrange their intake protocols. We did call them when we were just an hour out. Finally, some relief was in sight. Meanwhile, poor Willow was becoming even more distressed, and her howls were truly harrowing and gut-wrenching. However, that relief was short-lived, as the hospital decided they could not accommodate us. They explained they lacked the facilities to create an isolation area and directed us to drive an hour further to the Guelph vet college. Two conditions were required: we had to be ready to pay between $3,000 and $5,000, and we needed to provide proof that Willow’s sibling’s diagnosis was indeed Distemper. We were prepared to overlook the cost. We reached out to Rebecca, who kindly sent us the necessary documents, which we forwarded to Guelph. We were already halfway there without even knowing they would agree to take us.

Ultimate diagnosis and decision

The intake took almost two hours, and it was decided she would need to stay overnight, possibly longer, for tests and observations. Unbeknownst to me, part of the delay was due to taking a deposit for the fee. When I asked directly, the person on the phone admitted that it was the reason. She offered to accept payment by phone. I drove the car before Donna even took her credit card out of her wallet. We were all exhausted.

The next day, we received a phone call from Dr. Castillo, a faculty member who had encountered distemper in his native Mexico. They needed to observe Willow for several days and report back to us.

He kept his promise with two calls a day—first thing in the morning and last thing before he left for the day. Most of the news we received was positive: Willow is eating, drinking, active, and popular. Finally, we could take her home on Wednesday night. We jumped at the opportunity.

Before I go further, we believe our pets deserve a happy, reasonably healthy life. We think that keeping them alive despite any quality of life is not fair. We were prepared to live with a dog that has only three legs. If this insidious disease were halted at its current stage, we would do our best to cope.

We needed to prepare for how Willow would look and behave when she came home. The virus had caused more damage than we expected. Her entire hindquarters collapsed when she tried to walk. She dragged her leg, which trembled. Her whole rear end twitched as she struggled to balance on her one leg – often falling two or three times before she managed to stand up and move. Sometimes, she even urinated on her leg.

Again, there was no position comfortable enough to stay in for more than twenty or thirty seconds. She would lie down, close her eyes, and within half a minute, start to whimper, get up, and look for a better position. She was exhausted. There were two times overnight when I could hold her long enough for her to sleep in my arms for an hour.

She started to calm down a bit, ate and drank. I took her outside, where she naturally peed and pooped, then turned around to look for her treat. I also got her to sleep in my arms for almost two hours this time, by restricting her movement and providing a dark place.

The virus was not finished with her – and we were not willing to watch her suffer at this point. I contacted Dr. Castillo, informing him of our decision to euthanize. He said he agreed with us. I offered the college her body on one condition – we were not prepared to put her or ourselves through another hour of howling and distress. She would have to be euthanized in Mississauga. I was ready to donate the body if they wanted to study the disease further. We found a local veterinarian who could accommodate an isolation-style procedure, met with them at five, and delivered the body to Guelph at six-thirty.

All told, we had a healthy, happy puppy for four days!

Epilogue

It was the unbelievable alignment of so many factors that made this story:

Us being ready for another dog
Seeing the image on Facebook
We have the need and time for a road trip
Being able to afford all of this
The unfortunate, rare timing of this puppy getting that disease in winter
Having a Doctor at Guelph with experience due to his heritage
The large number of friends and relatives who saw Willow as a cult figure worth following. She even had a group chat called the “Willow Squad.”
More than 250 photographs and videos documenting the disease's progression will be shared with Guelph College.
The weather delays caused us to arrive later than expected. If we had arrived a few days earlier, we could have unknowingly exposed our vet's office to a highly contagious disease.

Perhaps all these things are part of the master plan. I understand that if there's any small comfort, maybe everything aligns for a reason. If there's any faint consolation in this nightmare, it's the chance for a whole class at Guelph to gain more hands-on experience with a disease most Canadian vets haven’t encountered in a quarter of a century. We couldn’t choose these circumstances, but we can choose how to react. One can only hope that all of this serves a purpose. We decided to focus on the positive, remembering that poor Willow, in her short life, touched many hearts. I have a feeling we haven’t heard the last of the Willow story.

Our Journey with Willow, Is This Part of the Master Plan?