We’ve had a setback on the Lilo Sidecar Dog front. During her first vet visit after adopting her, we discovered that she has heartworm.
All told, the treatment for heartworm takes months. During the course, Lilo has to go through a total of 3 injections that kill off the worms which then have to dissolve in the bloodstream. (Don’t google it if you’re easily grossed out). It is important to keep her relaxed and inactive during the recovery weeks following the injections until her bloodwork is all clear.
This is the point in the conversation where I could start going bananas about how some people can be shitbags and don’t care for their animals but – I won’t. Instead I’ll just be thankful that she became a part of our family and that we have the means to care for her. All in all it’s our good fortune.
As she takes it easy and sleeps on the couch (and my maps) we’re practicing wearing the doggles that Tio Rascon (Ed) sent and looking forward to the future. More than anything I just want my sweet doggo to be well.
There are few things as soul crushing as hearing something fall over in the garage followed by the cavernous echo of whatever that thing was bouncing off of your sidecar.
Then when you walk into the garage to find a dent and the once perfect orange paint torn down to the metal? Ugh. It takes every ounce of will you can muster not to flip the fuck out.
This type of moment is precisely when I need to work on my attachment to “things.” It’s just a motorcycle with a scratch. But initially upon seeing the dig, it was like my whole body recoiled in horror and electricity ran across the top of my skin.
Note to self: Just because something isn’t perfect doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful. You know this.
My sweetie bought me a big pink bandaid magnet until I can have the issue addressed. It makes it much easier to pretend the scar doesn’t exist.
On Sunday I popped in to town to meet friends for coffee. It was a beautiful afternoon so there were lots of riders around enjoying the sunshine. I pulled in to the parking lot, backed in to a spot and got off the bike.
Another motorcyclist of about 70 shuffled over as I begin unstrapping my helmet and taking it off.
“Nice. Zat da real cuhluh?”
::blink:blink:: “Yep, it’s the real color.”
“How many hawspowuh?”
“Not sure, maybe 30?”
“Uh hundrit fitty?”
“No, thirty. Thirty. Three zero. It’s a 500 single.”
Unless you’re a free and single bachelorette (…or bachelor, I’ve heard they let guys ride motorcycles now) the idea that you need to balance your motorcycle ridin’ with spending time with the important people in your life isn’t an alien concept. It can be challenging.
One of the reasons that I bought the Ural was so that I could easily bum around with my daughter in tow. When she was smaller, she would have a tendency to get sleepy and wobbly on the back of my Tiger. The Ural was able to put those concerns to rest for me.
When the Ural first came home, a common thread that ran through conversations about it was that people would love to take their dogs along on rides. I too was one of those people. Unfortunately, it was not to be.
My dog Luna was suspicious of peoples motives and in some ways was aloof and cat-like. The idea of her ever hopping into the sidecar and going for a ride was just as probable as seeing Bigfoot riding a unicorn through Times Square.
“Hey! Luna! D’ya wanna go for a ride in the sidecar?!?!?!”
::walks away rolling her eyes at your idiocy::
Over the years I have read posts on ADV, read blogs with sidecar dogs in them – most notably The Oasis of My Soul with Ara and Spirit. There is no shortage of pictures floating around social media of smiling sidecar dogs with the wind in their fur. On the surface, these people seem to have it all. Motorcyclists who manage to not have to balance their loved ones separately from their motorcycles.
Last Saturday, we stopped in to one of the local dog rescues. Amidst the chaos of 50 barking, leaping, pacing dogs I spotted a quiet, sweet girl who sat quietly on a bed in the corner. I knelt down next to the her pen and she walked towards me and leaned in as I stuck my fingers through the fence. Her big brown eyes said, “Please get me out of here.”
This is Lilo.
Lilo came from a kill shelter in Georgia to the local rescue org with a litter of puppies. They were just weened and adopted away, leaving Lilo behind.
She’d been in that pen at the rescue for 2 1/2 months. She’s on the skinny side, is missing a toe, has a broken incisor and was clearly in some type of altercation based on the scarring on her muzzle. Lilo appears to be some type of pitbull and maybe hound mix. As an underdog, Lilo was of those adult dogs it was easy for people to walk past as they bee-line for the puppies.
Over the last week while getting to know our new pup, Lilo has become my shadow. Since she wants to be with me always, out of curiosity I brought her outside to see how she would handle getting into the sidecar.
Well, that was easy! Do I have myself a new sidecar dog? It would appear that with little effort, she would be a willing monkey.
Given her size she would probably benefit from popping the seat cushion out. I’ll also need a harness and some doggles for her. But, just seeing her in there is encouraging.