Written in October 2018
I saw an old friend yesterday on my bicycle ride; a white German Shepherd that I've "known" since 2008. The farmer that "owns" her never gave her a name, I always called her Snowflake because that's the name I figure is most often given to white German Shepherds. According to the owner, the dog wandered up to his house one day and never left. The area is rural farming country and it isn't unusual for people with no conscience to dump animals there. It was his guess that's what happened to Snowflake. The first time I met her I was riding by on my road bike and thought "Oh man, that's a big dog and I don't have enough left to outrun it". She ran alongside me in grass and never came out on the road, not barking; to this day, I've never heard her bark. As time rolled on that season I realized she just wanted to run so we played that game every time I rode by. Sometimes I'd make a couple U turns and we'd go two out of three. That progressed into me stopping afterward and petting her until I had to get going; she liked that a lot. I've never had a dog of my own, I was never home and it didn't seem fair to have a dog locked up in a house with no one around.
At the start of this riding season I passed by the farm house where Snowflake lives but never saw her outside, she was always outside before. I knew she was getting older and feared the worst. I've heard that big dogs sometimes don't live a long time and she was fully grown when we met in 2008. Three times a week I'd take the road she lived on and never saw her once, until about two weeks ago. She was laying in the gravel drive, in the sun, as she did all the years before. She slowly looked up and when she saw me she got up with great effort. I didn't know owner well enough to go up the driveway to save her some steps and I felt bad about making her get up. I was so over joyed at seeing her I had to make myself pet her gently because she looked and moved like a 90 year old. I thought about taking her photo but reconsidered, these weren't her best days and I didn't want to remember her like that. I started taking her road on every ride after that but never saw her again after that, until yesterday. I had begun to think she had passed away. Then, yesterday she was out in the drive again, relaxing in the sun. I was so happy to see her I pitched my Colnago in the grass and waited for her to amble over to me for some affection.
We had a great visit and she seemed to be feeling better than the last time I saw her. As I petted her I remembered why she was so special to me. In October of 2008 I was diagnosed with renal cell cancer and the early prognosis was pretty grim. After being operated on and treated at Ohio State University I began my recovery in 2009. My first road rides wouldn't even take me as far as Snowflakes house, this was more than a bit frustrating for a former USCF road racer and bicycle cop. But, as time went on, I got stronger and was able to increase my distance. The first time I passed by her house I was so knackered that she only got a petting, no race that day. By the end of that season we were racing again and I was getting stronger. The following season was more of the same and in 2011 I went to see the Tour de France with my old bike cop partner who is also a cyclist. Another friend of ours brought me a bike from Switzerland and I got a chance to ride up some of the HC (Beyond Category) climbs in the Alps, including Alpe d'Huez. Quite literally, Snowflake was responsible for my ability to ascend those cols and here I was petting her, ten years since my diagnosis. I felt sad for her advanced age and what little time she had left but reminded myself she still had a good home and a peaceful setting.
I finished petting her and did what I said I wouldn't do; I took a couple of pictures with my phone. As soon as the sun comes up, I'm going to get on my road bike and ride out to her house to see if she's outside. Whether she is or not, I'll always think of Snowflake as I ride down “her” road.
