Scenes from the Cutting Room Floor: Roadtrippin' with Dean Koontz

Not long after Klejne, my big, beautiful half-Golden died unexpectedly, I wrote to the one person I knew would understand – Dean Koontz, the bestselling novelist known for his suspense thrillers with their elements of horror, fantasy, science fiction, mystery, and satire.

Klejne and I had been inseparable for more than twelve years. During the day, she was by my side in my studio. On the evenings and weekends, we explored the neighborhoods of Asheville and the mountains of North Carolina, hiking thousands of miles together over her lifetime.

A few weeks after I lost her, my boyfriend showed me photos of a litter his cousin’s dog had recently had. I shook my head. I didn’t want a puppy. I just wanted Klejne back. Two weeks later, he showed me another photo. This time one of the puppies – “little boy green” – captured my attention. He reminded me of Klejne as a puppy.

And so, I said okay. My boyfriend picked out the little runt of the litter for himself and soon we were on our way to pick up our new pups.

In preparation for the 22-hour round trip journey, my boyfriend downloaded several books on Audible. We drove through Tennessee and Kentucky listening to James Herriot’s All Creatures Great & Small.

When we got to Ohio he changed the book, telling me he’d downloaded something specially for me. It was Dean Koontz’s A Big Little Life: A Memoir of a Joyful Dog Named Trixie. I was skeptical. Koontz’s horror and fantasy thrillers are not one of my go-to genres and I’d never read any of his books. “I think you’ll like this one,” my boyfriend said.

He was right. Koontz had me with his opening lines:

“She arrived with her name, Trixie. I joked sometimes that it sounded more like a stripper than a dog. But if it sounded more like a stripper than a dog, it sounded more like an elf or a fairy than a stripper. Elves and fairies are magical beings, and so was she.”

The miles rolled by as Koontz read to us about his beloved dog. So much of what he wrote about Trixie, reminded me of Klejne. Close to midnight, we stopped to sleep for a few hours, saving the last chapters of the book for the morning.

Back in the car the next day, we pressed play and settled back in to spend time with Koontz and his beloved dog. Within a short time, however, Trixie’s happy life suddenly took a medical turn for the worse, mirroring in exact succession the ailments and trauma I had just gone through with Klejne. Tears began to flow freely as we listened in horror.

“How could you do this to me?!” I asked my boyfriend, crying.

“I forgot how it ended!” he answered, crying.

We arrived at our destination with red-rimmed eyes. But the tears were soon forgotten as I held a warm and squirming little puppy in my arms. I named him “Kiitos,” which means ‘thank you’ in Finnish.

The following week I wrote to Dean Koontz, thanking him for his book and telling him the story of our tearful drive to Grand Rapids. I mailed the card with a photo of Klejne and her story. Not expecting a response, I soon forgot about it.

Two weeks later, a package arrived covered with beautiful stamps. To my great surprise, it was from Dean Koontz himself. I tore it open and found a hardback copy of his memoir of Trixie with a handwritten dedication to me inside.

I was overwhelmed and of course, teared up all over again. That an author of his stature would take the time to send a handwritten note of condolence on the loss of my dog created a moment of connection I will forever treasure.

I’ve since begun reading other books by Dean Koontz, but A Big Little Life will always be my favorite.

I’ll leave you with a photograph of the day I met “little boy green.”