Katie's Story by Donna Hakala

Katie was my once in a lifetime dog. The fourth pup in my first litter of Aussies, born 10/11/1998 at 5:55 PM weighing 1 pound. As I watched the pups grow and develop their personalities, I knew she was special and that she would be staying.

Katie loved working with me in training classes and being with her human and canine friends. She hated the Obedience ring, but did earn her ASCA and AKC CD titles. She loved freestyle and rally obedience as well as the conformation ring. Tracking was her favorite. I thought we would have so much more time together to do this sport together, but that wasn't going to happen.

On Nov 13, 2008 my world changed forever. Upon collecting a urine sample from Katie, I almost dropped it. It was the color of cranberry juice. She was acting fine, eating, playing and had no fever. We went to see Dr. Clayton at V.A.C.C. He ran blood tests, took x-rays and set up an ultrasound for later in the afternoon. Her urine had so much blood in it that it had to be sent to an outside lab. Everything seemed normal except for a very small shadow that was partially hidden by her rib cage. She was put on Clavamox for 10 days with a follow-up set up with her regular vet, Dr. Burns. I was terrified because Katie's Dad had passed away 3 months earlier at age 12 from cancer, and that dreadful disease was rearing its ugly head in many Aussies lately.

At her next visit, she was again fine, her vitals were normal, but her urine was continually either pink or red. A complete urinalysis and culture were sent out to a different lab. She was put on Zeniquin for 10 days. On Dec 12 more bloodwork was done.

On December 20, I feared something terrible was happening to Katie. She looked dreadful, wouldn't eat and had a high fever. Dr. Burns did more x-rays, including her lungs. These films showed 3 shadows in one lung. Dr. Burns wanted a specialist to look at them for a second opinion, but my heart sunk, I knew this was very bad. Katie was given 50 mg. of Tramadol twice a day for pain. On Monday the 22nd I got the call — yes, as we feared, it was cancer.

We talked about what to expect and what to watch for. We both agreed that Katie's comfort and quality of life was the most important thing. We added Pepcid AC and Doxy, the latter some think may slow the progress of cancer in dogs. We didn't talk about a time frame, but others I spoke to who had similar experiences thought a few weeks or maybe 2 months, because of the amount of blood in her urine and the lung tumors.

I told Katie that I wouldn't let her go without a fight and I would do whatever I could to keep her happy, but when the time came, she had to let me know and I would let her go.

She was comfortable and happy. Eating well, playing, lots of wiggle-butt, woo-wooing,
and going for walks with the other girls.

Her canine family included her Mom (Maggie), half-sister (Willow) and her favorite — Willow's daughter (Dancer).

The morning of December 31 Katie had a high fever, vomited and looked awful. Dr Burns gave her fluids and a shot of Cerenia and the Doxy was stopped. I was to give her fluids for the day, then a bland diet and cerenia tablets for 2 days. It was a blizzard outside, so we snuggled on the couch and Katie rested. The next day the only food she would eat was buttered noodles, something she would continue to eat if she wasn't feeling well.

By our appointment on January 3 she was eating well again — cooked steak and EVO red bites kibble. To stay on top of things we decided to bring Katie in every 3 to 4 weeks, unless there was a problem.

Mornings weren't a good time for her appetite, so I started playing ball in the house with her before I left for work. This seemed to help and she usually was eating as I left. She had the living room to herself, with cozy beds, the couch covered with a fleece blanket, steak, kibble, treats, and fresh water.

After work she greeted me with lots of chatter and wiggle butt. We would walk through the back woods and cranberry bog every afternoon. I would bring kibble and cooked steak, which she usually finished as we walked for an hour or so. When I had my dinner, she usually got a good portion of it...if it came from my plate it must be good!! Her energy level and weight were good and she still slept on the bed at night. I made her use portable steps to get up on the bed, which from her expression she thought was for old dogs.

On January 20 more x-rays were taken. To our surprise the tumors hadn't multiplied and had only grown slightly. We added Standard Process Canine Hepatic Support. But the blood in her urine was a big concern for many reasons, mainly because of bacteria growth, so her urine was checked every few weeks. All was well — she was playing ball, interacting with her canine family as well as her new friends and supporters that we had met while walking in different spots to keep her happy.

On April 25 she started to lose some interest in food. Tests showed bacteria in her urine, so we started her on 100mg of Zeniquin. Her bloodwork showed that we could start her on a low dose of prednisone to help her appetite. X-rays showed the tumor in her belly area had grown, but those in her lungs were the same size as before.

Again Katie bounced back and was doing well. Friday July 31 she got a great report and we made a new appointment for 3 weeks.

That weekend she didn't eat well and refused to go for her walks, but she still played ball and followed me everywhere. On Monday August 3 she didn't look right so I took her to see Dr. Burns. Her gums were pale and bloodwork showed her red blood count had dropped. He gave her an injection of Epogen, which we hoped would give us more time. We would know within 48 hours. She was fussy about her food, but ate some and drank water and broth. She still wanted to play ball and slept on the bed.

Wednesday August 5 she jumped in the car, greeted the staff at V.A.C.C. with chatter and wiggle-butt. After we went into the exam room, she looked at the cookie jar as usual, but when I gave her one she spit it out and lay down at my feet. I was shocked. I had no idea that this was it. Katie had had enough. Dr. Burns walked in and was just as upset as I was. We hadn't discussed this yet. She had defied the odds and given us such hope.

I could take her home and bring her back later; he could come to our home, or go to a special place — whatever I wanted.

Katie always loved Dr Burns and the whole staff. It was time to let her go. It was the kindest thing I could do for her, and I had promised her. I don't know how she got to the office that day. She had almost no blood pressure and her blood was like water and a pale pink. Katie had given me one last gift; she had gotten us both to a safe place where we would both be taken care of. She passed away peacefully in my arms.

The whole house was in mourning — Katie had always taken care of all of us; what would we do without her?

It has been 10 months and I still can't believe my beautiful girl is gone.

On February 6, 2010, Maggie passed away and joined Katie at The Rainbow Bridge. She was 15 years old. Dancer and Willow stay close to me. How can they understand where their family has gone?

Katie loved life and lived every minute of it. I hope she knew how much she was loved and adored. I feel her everywhere and know that we will meet again.

Katie 10/11/1998--8/5/2009

Can you help this beautiful girl?

Natalie Bartizek is trying to help this adorable dog get a home. Natalie met Luke a few times and was at the Purple People Bridge outing with Luke. In fact, it is her photograph of him that has been used many times with big bridge in background.

She has rescued a sheltie/husky mix named Sox from some awful living conditions. She took her to vet today and she is on meds for ear infections and has a lump on her thigh/hip area. This has been diagnosed as Mast Cell tumor grade 1. She is friendly and sweet. She had bad fleas and has been treated as well for that and is currently staying with Natalie and her two Berners.

The Berner club is trying to find Sox a permanent foster home or permanent home asap. So far we have had no luck getting her into a breed rescue. We will not send her to the pound; it is our desire to help her find a wonderful home.

She has very good chance to be cancer free after tumor removal. She is guessed to be about three years old. She weighs 35 lbs. I have photos attached.

contact info for SOX:

Natalie Bartizek
513-331-9633
nblistmail@gmail.com

Oscar Baby, by Cindy Wilson

I lost Oscar Baby to cancer on September 3, 2007.

I have fostered and raised many dogs over the past 35 years, and Oscar was, and still is, my favorite. He was a miniature dachshund that we started to foster when he was about 7. His former owner didn’t want him, and surrendered him to a rescue operation. After a month or so, we drove him to Delaware to meet a potential adoptive family – when they heard he was 7, they rejected him as too old, without even giving him a chance! I was secretly happy, because Oscar fit in to our family so well. He came home with me, I paid the adoption fee to make it “legal,” and the rest was history!

Oscar lived to play ball, and loved his stuffed and squeaky toys. He had a fiery, energetic personality so typical of a dachshund. He once won second place at an animal rescue talent show by playing ball. (Oscar was beat by a goat that could walk on his hind legs – go figure!) He won a squeaky toy which didn't leave his mouth for hours.

In late 2006, he started to get what we thought were nosebleeds – they usually occurred at night when we were sleeping. After several tests, our veterinarian diagnosed him with a cancerous nasal tumor which was inoperable. It was devastating news, but we did what we had to do - ensure that he had the best medical care, a healthy environment and oodles of love, attention and toys as always.

Oscar lived an active life until the Labor Day weekend of 2007. He wasn't hungry and slept most of the day. We took him to the vet, who was able to get fluids in to his little body, but he deteriorated quickly. The actual cause of his death was a tumor partially blocking his intestine; he died after spending less than a day in the hospital. Oscar was 14 when he died.

I don't believe that animal lovers are ever ready to see their "fur babies" pass on. Oscar Baby was a dog who seemed to be able to read my mind; he is missed very much, to say the least. He is still with us. I occasionally will get a “ghostly” nudge on my leg where his nose used to tap me.

With Oscar's passing, he allowed us to have room for another dog in need. Gertie, an 11 year old terrier mix, was adopted in February 2008. She was blind, undernourished, abandoned and so heavily matted that the local SPCA didn't know what she was. Gertie has had two surgeries and several mammary tumors removed.

My husband and I will continue to rescue older/special needs dogs for as long as we can. We are thankful for Luke, Hudson & Murphy and everyone who supports finding a cause for this devastating disease.

Puppy up!

Cindy & Don Wilson
Mechanicsburg, PA

Rudy, by Christine Birhanzl

If I had to choose three words to describe Rudy they would be: loyal, best friend (I know that is 2), and gentle.

Rudy was at the Humane Society at the age of 6 months and was scheduled to be euthanized the next day. I fell in love with him, took him home and he has been by my side since. He has traveled across country with me and put up with me being a foster home for many dogs. At one point, I had 10 puppies that were abandoned that I fostered. He was always loving and gentle to any of the animals I brought home.

He was diagnosed with a cancer originating in glandular tissue (Adenocarcinoma) 3 years ago and I know that his time is limited. It is difficult to think of my life without my buddy in it. I am so grateful that the dear Lord has given me the opportunity to have Rudy in my life. Each day is a gift with him.

I am sure it is hard for some to understand how a person can learn from an animal, but I have learned from Rudy. There is a quote by Anatole France that reads; “Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.” My soul has been dancing since I held that little 6 month old, mange covered puppy in my arms at the Humane Society many years ago.

(Pictured is Rudy with his mom, Christine, and Rudy getting a healing massage from his friend Pickles.)

4/21/10 Update on Rudy -- Today is chemo day - Chemotherapy in the form of Lysodren. Treatment is best viewed as a means to improve quality of life, rather than increase lifespan. Rudy gets chemo twice a week.Fortunately it comes in pill form. His loyalty to me amazes me.

5/12/2010

Had a scare with Rudy the past few days. He started limping and holding his right paw up. I thought it might be his nails. Rudy has always had fast growing nails. Rudy has NEVER let me cut his nails; believe me I have tried. I have bought the best nail clippers made for dogs and he still refuses. It got to the point where all I needed to do was walk to the drawer where I kept the clippers and he would start shaking. Maybe Rudy has me trained better than I realize. Could he have learned ... start shaking and mom will feel sorry for me and let me alone? He went to the vet yesterday, had his nails cut and still limps. The doc said that he could not see anything wrong with the paw. Needless to say the past few days have been emotional for me. I try to live in the day and be thankful for all of the time I have with Rudy, but my fear of losing him seems to overwhelm me.

I have always wondered if our furry friends go to heaven. I believe they do. I try to hold on to the fact that when Rudy does leave this life and goes to heaven he will meet me again one day.

I read Luke's message to Murphy today on his blog. I sat there and cried. The love we have for our buddies. I think about all of the sadness in the world and I feel a bit selfish feeling this sad about Rudy's cancer.

Well, he is looking at me now and letting me know he wants out or food.

My boy is growing tired. He stays by my side to this day. I thank God every day for Rudy.

Ralph, by KC Tate

Ralph was brought into our clinic in 1998 by a school teacher who'd found him on the children's playground. She thought he was injured since he walked with a slight limp and was slow moving. With his short little legs and from the looks of his pads, he'd been going for a long while. Once the teacher found out he was heartworm positive, she decided she didn't want him and consigned him to the pound. All of us at the clinic had fallen in love with this funny looking dog and a couple of girls decided his name should be Ralph.

When I found out he was pound bound, I told the Doc I wanted him. He had a heart murmur, but after heartworm treatment, the murmur went away. Doc estimated him to be between 2 and 4 years old. I brought him home during his heartworm treatment and discovered I had a wanderer on my hands. The first week, Ralph took off and I thought I wouldn't see him again; he had a bad case of wanderlust, plus he hadn't been neutered. A couple of days later, he came back, limping and exhausted. A couple of weeks later, he got out again and left. By the fourth day, I had given him up for gone when on a Sunday morning I was reading the paper and heard whining. Checking on my dogs, I couldn't find the source. Once I heard it again, I checked out front and there stood Ralph, whining and wanting in!

He managed to survive heartworm treatment and was immediately neutered. He decided this was a pretty good place and stuck around after that. He was also now getting regular walks - on leash!

As time passed, Ralph took to leaving if the chance arose, but would return within a half hour. I followed him one day in my car and discovered that this dog was taking himself around the block! He didn't go anywhere else but around the block. It became a joke: Ralph wanted to walk and if the opportunity presented itself, he walked himself around the block. We'd laugh and assure the neighbors he would be back.

I got on the Internet one day to see if I could figure out what breed he might be and found a dog that looked nearly identical; it was a Petit Basset Griffon Vendeen. Although the PBGV does not have front legs that point two different directions, there may have been a bit of basset hound in him and he did bay, but he definitely had the attitude of a PBGV: stubborn, independent and a sharp sense of smell.

In 2008, Ralph developed ulcers in his eyes and we visited an opthalmic specialist who was able to age him by looking at the back of his eyes with a scope. He said Ralph was 14 years old, so the vet had been close. By 2009, Ralph began developing calcium overgrowths in his scapular area (the top part of his front legs) and huge knots started developing, first on his right leg, then his left; he began to limp and was in some pain. He went on a regimen of pain pills and Glycoflex, but continued to putter right along.

Soon, he started losing his sight, then his hearing. In December, 2009, Ralph quit eating, which was not at all normal. On January 4, 2010, I had to put my good friend to rest; a necropsy revealed liver cancer, which had not shown up in previous blood work. It just came on within a couple of months and within a couple of weeks, he was gone.

Ralph was to have been an adoptable dog and many people were interested in him, but I discovered early on that he did not play well with others; he liked to chase balls, but wouldn't give them back and would try to bite you if you tried to take it. I was never able to work that out of him, so he stayed with me. An amusing note: It did not dawn on me that my neighbor's name was Ralph and now I had a dog named Ralph! I went out into the backyard one day and called for Ralph. Out of nowhere came a response – my neighbor was outside next door and thought I had called him!

Ralph also had a fetish for car interiors. I was bringing him back from the vet one afternoon when I stopped by my doctor's office. The secretary had heard Ralph's story and was delighted he was with me and went outside to see him. She came back in laughing, telling me he was so cute, especially the way he was gnawing on my door panel just like "he was eating an ear of corn". I didn't think it was real funny when I saw what he had done to the car door panel. Ralph definitely was a character and there will never be another like him.

He was truly something else and will forever be missed.

Tobey, by Sherri Murray

Tobey was a rescue puppy from F.A.C.E.S. (Friends Assisting Canines with Essential Services) located in West Springfield, MA. FACES had rescued his mom, who was a purebred Dalmatian and she gave birth to a litter of 12 puppies! Tobey appeared to be a Dalmatian/black lab mix. He was all black with a white spotted chest. We adopted him on October 24, 1998.

On Easter of 2008, Tobey had a seizure and we rushed him to Shoreline Emergency Vet Clinic in Shelton, CT – wonderful people over there – and he was diagnosed with heart cancer. He had a large tumor wrapped around his heart. His heart cavity would fill with fluid/blood and keep his heart from being able to beat. They drained the fluid, kept him for a couple of days and explained our options for Tobey. We could let him continue on until the fluid filled up again and they would have to drain the fluid again when he would have another seizure or we could do surgery and have a little hole opened in the pericardial sac, which would allow the fluid to escape on its own. Either way, this was a terminal situation, but the surgery could give Tobey another year, which we felt was a long time for a puppy life.

Unfortunately, right before the surgery, they discovered his cancer was the fast growing kind (heart cancer tumors can either be fast growing or slow growing) and the surgery wouldn't give us as much time as we thought. We did go through with the surgery for Tobey and really wished we hadn't. I slept on a mattress on the floor with him for two weeks and he never really healed.

It was very difficult for him and heart wrenching for us knowing there was nothing else we could do for him. Tobey passed away in the early hours of July 2, 2008 just a month shy of his 10th birthday.

Tobey's time-line was:

* a sign: Tobey's walks were not at the same pace a year prior to his diagnosis. He seemed to have slowed down and we didn't know why. We assumed he was just getting a little older.
* seizure episode on Easter 2008 (end of March)
* diagnosed with heart cancer
* another seizure at the end of April
* surgery was done on April 29, 2008
* month of May was a long struggle with minimal improvement for Tobey
* June 1st he had another major episode and we thought we would have to let him go. We talked with his cardiologist and opted on waiting a little bit and he did rebound some.
* there were other minor episodes that left Tobey basically listless
* July 1, 2008 he had a major seizure and lost all mobility. A few hours later, he again had a seizure and we were just waiting for my husband to get home from out of town so we could all take him to the vet together. During this waiting period, Tobey was comfortable and not in pain or we would have taken him directly to the vet. At 3:30 AM, July 2, 2008, we said our final goodbye to Tobey.

Shoreline Emergency Vet was wonderful. From the moment we walked in the door to every doctor we spoke with – and there were many – everyone was kind, sensitive and very professional. We have no doubt that we got the best care we could have given our situation. This clinic did have an oncologist and cardiologist for animals. A place that you may want to add to your list of contacts:

VCA Shoreline Veterinary Referral & Emergency Center
895 Bridgeport Ave
Shelton, CT 06484
tel: 203-929-8600
fax: 203-944-9754

Well, this is the history of Tobey Murray. I did speak briefly with Luke at the library the day he was in Newtown, CT and he seemed surprised that my dog had died from heart cancer, so this is why I wanted to include Tobey's history to add to your canine cancer stories.

(Pictured is Tobey couch-lounging and sun-bathing, and with his friend Amber.)

CANCER SUCKS: BITE BACK! by Bekye Eckert

My journey with Sassy began on January 2, 2007, when a compassionate Ohio animal shelter worker put out a desperate email plea to save a bonded pair of Maltese girls. They were approximately eight years old, in poor physical condition and toothless from neglect, and one had a mammary tumor. Destined for the euthanasia room, instead they were rescued and transported to me in Milwaukee for a second chance at life.

The sight of them trembling and clinging together in their transport crate was heartbreaking. But nothing in all my years of dog rescue prepared me for the sight of Sassy’s tumor: it was the size of a tangerine and dragged the ground!

Although I had surgery appointments for both girls the following day, Sassy had already gone into heat. Given her age and fragile condition, my veterinarian didn’t want to spay her while she was in heat, and didn’t want to put her through two surgeries either. So we waited eight agonizing weeks, me worrying and her hauling around this awkward, uncomfortable tumor.

I scheduled Lexie’s spay with Sassy’s surgeries so they could recover together since they were so bonded, but I needn’t have. Lexie recovered quickly and was rapidly ready to resume her new life while Sassy would require around-the-clock post-op care. She was on heavy pain medication, bruised and stitched from her collarbone to her privates, with multiple drain tubes. When you take a 2-1/2 lb tumor out of the chest of a barely 7-lb dog, it looks pretty horrifying. She would have a slow and painstaking recovery, and needed to be kept away from even her sister to avoid injury and infection. I carried her around in a laundry basket to try to give her stimulation and keep her spirits up, but even so she became very depressed. 2-1/2 months in isolation is an awfully long time. But thankfully the tumor, which was very nearly her death sentence at the overcrowded Ohio shelter, turned out to be benign and Sassy was finally free to enjoy her new life.

Having been separated for so long, however, the sisters had grown apart. But even so, they still shared many similarities.

Both were beautiful purebred Maltese, weighing around 7 pounds.

Both won my heart and subsequently the heart of my fiancé; and in the summer of 2008 both moved with me to Maryland to our new lives with a new last name. Both had been given elegant first names (Cassandra and Alexandra) which were never used.

Both share likes (baby food chicken stix, barking at cats, soft beds strategically placed in the afternoon sun) and dislikes (the evil bath mommy, hair bows, cameras).

And heartbreakingly, as we learned just a few days ago, both now share a devastating diagnosis: malignant cancer.

My husband John and I are no strangers to cancer. Lexie was diagnosed with metastatic mammary cancer last year and underwent two tumor removal surgeries in 2009. She is now nine months past her original prognosis of six months to live. While we are very grateful we are also painfully aware the disease is lurking in her tiny body, ready to strike at any time. This is the agonizing reality we live with on a daily basis.

While Lexie’s cancer battle occupied our thoughts and prayers, Sassy on the other hand was quite literally “fat and sassy,” a toothless biter with plenty of attitude! Not even Luke and the Boys were spared from her “gum and run” attacks; in fact, she enjoyed Luke’s visits so much that she would lurk outside the guest room waiting for another opportunity to give him a love bite!

We had no indication whatsoever that Sassy was sick. In fact, during her recent annual exam she got a clean bill of health. But our blissful ignorance came to an abrupt end two weeks ago when her “sassitude” and her appetite disappeared. Our wonderful vet squeezed us in on a busy Friday night. We truly didn’t know what could so suddenly be so wrong but we certainly didn’t expect what we saw on the x-rays, a diagnosis which was later confirmed by the internal medicine specialist. Sassy had carcinoma … malignant lung cancer.

While we struggle with the quality of life issue … aggressive treatment vs. palliative care … we know that these are the bittersweet days, between diagnosis and the inevitable, and that there is no way to know how many of them we will have. What we do know is that time is not on Sassy’s side as we continue to pray for a miracle cure for this horrible disease.

In honor of her “sassitude” that we hope to see again, we have chosen as Sassy’s fight slogan: CANCER SUCKS: BITE BACK!




Cassandra "Sassy" Eckert
Jan 2, 1999 ---- Apr 18, 2010

Our beautiful and spirited Sassy, diagnosed with lung cancer a mere nine days ago, lost her brief battle with the disease today. She left this world just as she lived in it: on her own terms. The Rainbow Bridge will be infinitely richer (and definitely more interesting) with her bright and relentless spirit.

WHEN TOMORROW STARTS WITHOUT ME
Author Unknown

When tomorrow starts without me,
And I'm not there to see;
The sun will rise and find your eyes
All filled with tears for me.
I wish so much you wouldn't cry
The way you did today,
Remembering how I'd lay my head
In your lap that special way.
I know how much you love me,
As much as I love you,
And each time that you think of me,
I know you'll miss me too.

But when tomorrow starts without me,
Please try to understand,
That an angel came and called my name
And petted me with her hand.
She said my place was ready,
In Heaven far above,
And that I'd have to leave behind
All those I dearly love.
But, as I turned to heel away,
A tear fell from my eye,
For all my life I never thought
That I would have to die.

I had so much to live for,
So many sits and downs to do,
It seemed almost impossible,
That I was leaving you.
I thought about our lives together,
I know you must be sad,
I thought of all the love we shared,
And all the fun we had.
Remember how I'd nudge your hand,
And poke you with my nose?
The frisbee I would gladly chase,
The bad guy, I'd "bark and hold".

If I could relive yesterday,
Just even for awhile,
I'd wag my tail and kiss you,
Just so I could see you smile.
But, then I fully realized,
That this could never be;
For emptiness and memories
Will take the place of me.
And when I thought of treats and toys,
I might miss come tomorrow,
I thought of you and when I did,
My dog-heart filled with sorrow.

But then I walked through Heaven's gate,
And felt so much at home;
As God looked down and smiled at me,
From His beautiful golden throne.

He said, "This is eternity,
And now we welcome you,
Today your life on earth is past,
But here it starts anew.
I promise no tomorrow,
But today will always last;
For you see, each days's the same day,
There's no longing for the past.
Now you have been so faithful,
So trusting, loyal and true;
Though there were times you did things,
You knew you shouldn't do.
But good dogs are forgiven,
And now at last you're free;
So won't you sit here by my side,
And wait right here with me?"

So when tomorrow starts without me,
Don't think we're far apart.
For every time you think of me,
I'm right there, in your heart.

And you are forever in ours
John, Bekye, Lexie, HollyRose and your "love bite" fan club

Mr. Maxx by Marcia Siemsen

Maxx started limping on his front left leg in September 2009. X-rays didn’t show anything obvious, but in the interest of safety, Maxx’s vet, Dr. Louis Brad at Gunbarrel Veterinary Clinic in Boulder, had a radiologist take a look at the films. She saw something ‘funny’ and said we should take Maxx up to CSU [Colorado State University] just to be sure. So I took Maxx up to CSU on my 57th birthday, and got the worst news possible. After a full body bone scan and bone biopsy, Maxx was presumptively diagnosed with osteosarcoma of the left proximal humerus. After hearing all the options, I elected not to amputate – Maxx is a 12 year old Great Pyrenees, and he is a big, big boy. I jokingly say that his life expectancy is about 10 years, and that he’s already out of warranty, so I didn’t want a big change for him to have to deal with in the form of an amputation.

But the doctors said that SRS (Stereotactic Radiosurgery, sorta kinda like cyber knife technology that we hear about) has similar results when coupled with chemo as does amputation and chemo. So Maxx had SRS up at CSU with the most advanced tool there is. (They call it the Trilogy). He was in the hospital at CSU for a week. The night of his bone biopsy, before SRS, he had so much pain he had heart problems, and we thought we were going to lose him. But he pulled through and sailed through the SRS with the love and support of the absolutely miraculous staff at CSU, for which we are eternally grateful.

After SRS, Maxx was scheduled for five rounds of Carboplatin. When we went to CSU for round three, we found a lump on his back which turned out to be an osteosarcoma metastases, just a short 3 months after original diagnosis. So on that day, we were SO VERY LUCKY to get Dr. Steve Withrow (IMO THE number one expert literally in the entire world on osteosarcoma) as our consult, and he said to ditch the Carboplatin and get more aggressive, and we immediately started Doxorubicin. So far, Maxx has had two rounds, and is scheduled for three more.

Doxorubicin kicks Maxx’s butt pretty good for about a week – no vomiting or lower GI problems; I think he just feels like he has the flu pretty bad and doesn’t want to eat a whole lot and he sleeps a lot. He has a special blanket that I cover him with, and he gets lots and lots of special human food to keep his strength up until he emerges from what I call the “chemo doldrums.”

After the first Doxorubicin round, Maxx immediately had surgery to remove the mass, and thanks again to his wonderful doctor at Gunbarrel Veterinary Clinic, Dr. Louis Brad, Maxx had clear margins, and a big old scar to prove it! Everyone is keeping fingers and toes and paws crossed for Mr. Maxx. He is just such a wonderful boy; everyone loves him and smiles when they see him.

He was never really sick a day in his life before the dreaded osteosarcoma came to our house. I try to say nothing but positive things around Maxx, and I refuse to cry around him. He has always been my rock, and now it’s my turn to be his. I’d like to please ask everyone in our 2 Dogs 2000 Miles community to keep Mr. Maxx in their thoughts and prayers. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, but somehow osteosarcoma managed to turn one of them into something way worse than mean. He didn’t deserve this.


4/28/2010

It is with profound sadness that I let you all know that Maxx left our world last night (April 27, 2010) here in his home with peace and dignity. He was such a wonderful wonderful boy, always kind, always loving, and always brave. He never met a human he didn't love and vice versa.

My fondest memories of Maxx will be the many times with him in the car, stopped at a red light in Louisville, and people stopped beside me yelling "Hi Maxx" at him from their cars. I had no idea who any of these people were, but they knew and remembered Maxx from everywhere he went - Lowe's, Home Depot, the Louisville Farmer's Market, the parades on Main Street, the festivals, the parks,... He was popular and unforgettable. Children flocked to him, and he just would stand there and smile.

Thank you all for your love and support over the past months. It has been a difficult journey and I hope that with the passing of time the lesson will become clearer. Right now, I'm just so very very sad and broken-hearted. But he deserved one last gift, so I gave him rest.

Marcia

The Greatest Dog in the History of Dogs — Huckleberry Finn by Laura Tidwell

An old friend knew of my interest in owning a Great Pyrenees and alerted me in the summer of 1998 to a couple of Pyr pups who had just been rescued. I understand that folks had been trying to catch the mother and her pups wandering on some old farm land. The mother got away, abandoning two of the puppies. The pups were only about ten days old; they were malnourished; and they were infested with parasites, internal and external.

I made arrangements to meet the puppies in their foster home (foster parents Lynn Provident and Jeff Davis are two of God's protectors of animals here on earth), and I had an opportunity to bottle feed the four-pound puppies, cradling them over my forearm. Over the course of the next few weeks, I diligently attempted to convince the puppies' foster parents that I was worthy of adopting one – the mischievous one then called "Rex." Before he was ready for adoption, though, Rex's health took a nosedive. He was hospitalized, and the vet wasn't sure he would live. But his foster mom never gives up when it comes to the life of a dog. She persevered; he persevered; and finally he was ready to come home with me. Oh, how I loved that dog; we were as close to soul mates as a dog and a person could be.

I named him Huckleberry Finn, and he proved himself remarkably like his namesake. I like to say he was “delightfully rotten,” certainly capable of civility, but occasionally delighting in absolute mischief. A typical Pyr, he was an independent thinker. You'd tell him to do something and could see him considering whether that was something he actually wanted to do. When we signed up for obedience class, my colleagues wagered how quickly we'd be expelled. (In the end, we did graduate. In fact, we got a standing ovation during our final exam when I commanded Huckleberry to come and he came!) When we were in public, he was remarkably well-behaved. He was friendly with other dogs, loving with humans, and extremely gentle with children. I later fostered another Pyr puppy, and I adopted him as a result of, in large part, Huckleberry's love for him. Huckleberry and Klondike became inseparable. They wrestled and played, they lounged on the couch, they snuggled on the hearth. Huckleberry lived in a wonderful balance of good behavior and mischief – resting his head on the dining room table during dinner, relaxing at concerts in the park, stealing a hot dog from my boss' hand at a company event, serving as a terrific companion on long walks. (Klondike was lacking in mischief; he was just along for the ride.) It was a pretty good life.

Our Klondike had always been a bit "sickly," so although he was younger than Huck Finn it wasn't a great surprise that we lost him first. My sweet Huckleberry had a very human reaction to Klondike's death. The two of us moped and mourned for months. Right around the time Huckleberry returned to "normal" I came home to find pools of blood all over the floor and splattered on the walls, and the blood was coming from Huck's nose. We consulted our vet, and we suspected that Huck had broken a blood vessel in his nose. Things were fine for a few months…until it happened again. Our vet did probes, x-rays, biopsies, and blood work, all of which were inconclusive. Ultimately, we went to University of Tennessee College of Veterinary Medicine for a CT-scan. There, clear as day, was a massive tumor literally consuming his nasal passages (nasal adenocarcinoma).

After many tears and much discussion, my husband and I opted against radiation. In the end, I couldn't bear to abandon him for nearly two months while he was undergoing what seemed to be unbearable treatment. Instead, we tried to combat the spread of the tumor with medication. The UT Vet told me he wouldn't last a month, but I didn't believe them. I knew our time was short, and I did everything I could to give him as much enjoyment as possible. We went to the dog park; we went for countless rides in the convertible; we visited his human friends; we went on long walks; I prepared a myriad of home-made food to help him keep weight on, and when he tired of that, we went to the McDonald's drive-thru for plain hamburgers; and, of course, he had a gob of peanut butter with every pill he had to take. His quality of life was pretty darn good. Huckleberry Finn gave me a wonderful birthday gift that year – hanging around long enough to spend the day with me. Five days later, though, his body decided it had enough. Huck Finn died on November 21, 2008 more than a year after he first showed signs of cancer. He was ten years old.

I love my other dogs immensely, and I'll always have dogs. But I doubt I'll ever love another dog the way I loved Huckleberry Finn. He was the greatest dog in the history of dogs.

Solar’s Journey by Michele Handte

When he was just shy of 3 years old, Solar came to live with me. Prior to that, he lived with my best friend, Kate, who happens to be his breeder. Solar always loved me from when he was a little puppy and would turn himself inside out when I showed up. In fact, I wasn’t allowed to be near the show ring when he was being shown because he always tried to leave the ring to get to me.

When he was just over two and had finished his championship, which in itself was a harrowing experience, Kate decided that she was going to place him because he would get more attention in another home. I had always told her that I wanted him if she ever decided to do that. Well, the time came, but I wasn’t in a position to bring him to my house with the six dogs I already had. So very reluctantly, I told her to give him to the other home she had for him. I knew the person, as did Solar, and knew they would take good care of him.

It was important that Solar go to someone with whom he was at least familiar. Why? Well, when he was being shown in conformation, Kate let a handler take him home for the evening because he was showing Solar all weekend. She thought it would be a good chance for them to get used to each other, and she was staying in the area. When the handler tried to take Solar out of his crate, Solar bolted and wouldn’t come close enough for them to slip their hands under his collar. By the time Kate got there, he had run off into the woods. For six days they looked for him. There had been sightings of him near the high school, which is where he seemed to want to stay. The kids started throwing food to him, but he would always run away if they tried to approach him. And of course every time Kate went to the school, he was no where to be found. Finally, on the sixth day when Kate was making one final loop before having to drive back to Pennsylvania for the night, she spotted him at the edge of the woods. When she called him, he hesitated and then realized it was her. Talk about jumping for joy!!! He was SO happy to find someone he knew!

As it turned out, Solar’s new mom ran into some tough times about six months after taking him and had to give Solar back to Kate. Kate had him for a couple of months when I decided that I needed another agility dog because Jagr absolutely hated the ring, and I just couldn’t put him through it any more.

It was at that point that Solar came to live with me and became my competition dog. He absolutely loved to do anything with me, whether it was obedience, agility, Rally, herding -- it didn’t matter. He was my dog and my dog alone. Getting along with the rest of the pack wasn’t an issue. He always respected every one of them and never offered any challenges.

For some reason, he decided that he liked to bark at my husband, Jack, when he would come home or if Jack got up to move around the house. I joked that Solar was obsessive compulsive, just like Jack. Jack really isn’t except when it comes to exercise. You don’t want to live with him if he hasn’t had his workout! But the two of them loved each other in a unique way. Jack always said that Solar’s last breath would be woofing at him.

Solar went on to be a great partner in competition and earned his OA, OAJ, NJP, NAP, CD, RAE2, PT, JHD, CGC and TDI. In addition to competing, he was a therapy dog who visited nursing homes routinely. He even did agility and obedience demonstrations at the nursing home in the summer time out in the courtyard. The smiles he brought to the elderly residents were priceless. It was so difficult to go back there after Solar passed because they all wanted to know where he was. Solar and his son, Shaman, were quite the hit with all the folks there.

Solar retired from herding (sheep) and agility in 2007 when arthritis started to creep up on him. We were still herding ducks and working on a started title when he had to have his leg amputated. Solar’s ducks haven’t been worked since.

On December 7, 2008, our world changed. We were out for a potty break at an agility trial, which I was chairing, when another dog tried to grab him by the neck. Solar tried to get away but slipped on the ice and let out a yelp. He came up lame on his back right leg. I thought it might have been a pulled muscle because he had been limping but responded well to massage therapy that weekend. Besides the initial yelp, he never cried or whined. So we went home and iced his leg and tried to keep him quiet. By Monday morning, it was very evident in his eyes that I needed to see a vet right away. So off to our vet we went. She asked to put him under so she could get better films. I agreed, so that meant I had to leave him. Then the call came – Solar had a badly fractured femur; and we needed to go to Pittsburgh right away.

On the drive down, I had a terrible feeling in my gut that he had cancer; but I tried to think positively. When Dr. Payne came into the room after looking at the x-rays, my worst nightmare came true – osteosarcoma. He explained that the only way to make Solar comfortable and try to stop the cancer was to amputate the leg. I didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t live in the severe pain he was experiencing, and there was no way I would put him down because of this. By this time it was late afternoon so they put him on a morphine drip and did the surgery the next morning, December 9, 2008. His chest x-ray was clear then.

Just a month prior, Dr. Payne had looked at x-rays sent by my vet and diagnosed osteoarthritis in his hips. Solar had been limping off and on for a couple months, and I wanted to find out why. When I reminded him that he had seen x-rays 4 weeks ago, he said he knew and just looked at them again that day. There was nothing that indicated OS on those films. My hope was that we caught it early enough.

On December 22, 2008, he had his staples removed, and we met with the oncologist. She would do 4-6 rounds of carboplatin, chest x-rays that day, half way through and at the end of the treatment. So Solar started his chemo with a clear chest x-ray on December 22, 2008. His next treatment was January 13, 2009. On January 21, 2009, I was concerned about panting at night so requested another chest x-ray. It was still clear. On February 4, 2009 Solar was scheduled for his third round of chemo, but his blood levels were too low. We waited another week, and he was able to have dose three on February 18, 2009. Dose four was March 5, 2009 and dose five was March 26, 2009. The final dose was scheduled for April 15, but his blood count was too low. Worse than that, they found three lung mets ranging in size from .8 to 1.3 cm. Our options were a couple of rounds of reduced dosage of adriamycin or go with the Metronomic protocol (Metacam, doxycyclinel & leukeran). I say reduced dosage because Solar’s MDR1 gene was mutant/normal, thus he couldn’t take all types of drugs. Adriamycin is one of the drugs on the list to avoid. After much thought, I decided it was too risky to do that and I thought I wanted to go with the Metronomic protocol, but then decided that a purely homeopathic route was better for Solar. I made that decision because of the change in his attitude when he came off the chemo. He seemed so much happier and had a great appetite. I just wanted him to be happy and continue to eat well for however long we had with him.

We started acupuncture on him, which he really seemed to enjoy. That’s the only vet from whom he wouldn’t try to hide behind his mom when the vet came into the room. We continued those treatments about every 10 days up until five days before he died. He also enjoyed his massage therapy and Reiki with his buddy, Maria. Every time she worked on him, there was such a complete calmness and contentment that came over him.

Solar went everywhere with me and missed a trip only once. That wasn’t a happy weekend for him or Jack. From the moment I left, he lay in front of the door and wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t even go to bed with Jack. Then it started ... He howled most of the night at the door. When he finally stopped howling, he whined. I promised him I would never leave him again, and I didn’t. He went to St. Louis several times with me and made many weekend trips to lots of different places. He would never leave my side. Even when Kate, my best friend, would try to take him out, he wouldn’t go. He would only leave with me.

His last trip was to Pittsburgh with Jack and me. It was a very special weekend just a couple of weeks before he left us. It was on that trip that I knew the end was coming soon. I could see him slowing down tremendously. We spent a lot of time just sitting by the river watching the boats and people go by. He was really content and happy.

On June 22, Kate and Solar’s girlfriend, Riot, came to stay overnight with us. I asked her to come and say goodbye because I knew the time was coming soon. Solar had a good day that day and enjoyed seeing both of them. Riot and Solar gave us Shaman four years ago.

It was the next day when Solar struggled to walk and started walking in circles that Jack and I discussed letting him go. His vet knew how much he hated going there so she agreed to come to our home. The decision was made and the appointment set for Friday, June 26, 2009.

Solar had a horrible night on Thursday. He just couldn’t stop coughing and wasn’t able to walk at all. We tried to reach the vet to come that night, but she wasn’t around. But I guess it was meant to be that way. Once the coughing settled, he had a peaceful night. And I had some very quiet and reflective time with him on Friday morning. It was so peaceful. I told him how very much I loved him and how much I was going to miss him, and we talked about all the fun things we’d done together and about him being able to see Jagr again. There were so many things to talk about in so little time. I could feel him hugging me as he pressed himself against me on the couch. I told him it was ok to leave me and that he would always be alive in my heart. Then it was time. He passed peacefully in my arms with his dad by my side.

The most beautiful picture of him is hanging in our family room watching over us every day. Nothing can replace his love for me, but seeing that picture helps. I have never had a dog love me with such intensity and with all his heart and soul as Solar loved me. I hope I was worthy of that love.

I love and miss you with all my heart, Solar.

Salty’s Badge of Courage

It's rare that people who post to our blog share the graphic nature of their dog's treatment in photos, and I'd like to thank Lonna Coleman and Salty for their permission to allow us to post some of Salty's radiation photos. They might be disturbing for younger readers but we feel they are necessary. All too often veterinarians can unwillingly downplay the effects of radiation (and chemotherapy). As Lonna wrote to me in her email, "While considering radiation as one of the cancer treatments for Salty, I really wanted to see photos of the effects of radiation on the skin but found nothing. So, I was determined to document it during Salty's treatment with the intention of sharing it with others. Our experience has been that vets tend to downplay pet cancer and cancer treatment, possibly for the sake of pet owners. But with me and everyone I've met along the way who have pets with cancer, the fear is 'fear of the unknown.'"

Thankfully, Salty is doing very well, as you'll see in his photos. We can all learn from his experience, and I thank Lonna for contributing this detailed blog of his treatment.

A Tail of Courage over Cancer By Lonna Coleman and Salty

At 7 years old, a lump became visible on Salty’s right hip. My heart dropped! From observation only, our vet diagnosed it as a Lipoma. A sense of relief! A needle biopsy revealed a few round cells. Despair!!! Histopathy of the lump, after removal, reported it as a Grade 1 Soft Tissue Sarcoma, a tumor originating from the nerve sheath. Utter despair!!!!!

Because of the location, the right hip, one of the most common sites to administer a vaccine, our vet believes a vaccination was the cause of Salty’s tumor. [Lonna adds that, "Since Salty's tumor was caused by a vaccine, I've been doing everything possible to support The Rabies Challenge Fund.] I’ve since learned that, in regard to cancer and injection sites, it is extremely important to have our vet map out injection sights on our pet’s chart each and every time they administer a vaccine.

Because Salty’s tumor was in a difficult position, the surgeon was not able to excise the tumor with wide enough margins, typically curative for peripheral nerve sheath tumors. So, radiation therapy was recommended.

We were left with a decision to leave it and have it return within a year as a much more aggressive tumor (possibly a Grade 2 that could metastasis to his lungs), or treat the tumor with radiation, giving Salty only a 16% chance of the cancer returning in 5 years.

We soon discovered that deciding on a treatment was much more difficult than receiving the diagnosis, realizing that our decision would determine Salty’s life span and possibly affect his quality of life.

At times, we were leaning towards diet and supplements alone. But, with the exception of using Maitake mushrooms to successfully treat Lymphoma, there’s insufficient research using diet and supplements in treating cancer.

After considering these facts: Salty’s age, research proving that radiation treatment will give Salty an 84% chance of the tumor not returning within 5 years, and knowing that Salty jumps into everything head first with all of the joy and enthusiasm he can muster, we opted for radiation as well as diet and various supplements (with the exception of antioxidants and wormwood) to aid his body in its fight against cancer. We were told by our vet, as well as the oncologist, that both antioxidants and wormwood can block the effectiveness of the radiation.

In Salty’s case, the oncologist recommended 20 treatments in a period of 5 weeks. Our vet’s only concern was that Salty wouldn’t be the same dog after being anesthetized 20 times, once for each radiation treatment. But, after talking to the oncologist, our vet was extremely happy with both their procedure (an injection of Propofol, intubation and isoflurane gas), and the experience they have gained from performing such a vast number of anesthesias.

The total cost of Salty’s radiation treatments was $5562.40. And, because we didn’t have the money, it was a consideration, but definitely not the determining factor. We ended up applying the entire amount to our credit card.

Salty always entered the Portland Veterinary Oncology Center taking the place by storm, rushing in to meet and greet everyone in the building with his whole body wagging. And then, he led them down to the room containing the linear accelerator saying, "AWOOO" (his expression of ultimate joy) just before they "knocked him out". This “ritual” continued through all 20 treatments.

Each treatment took approximately 30 minutes, from the time Salty went with them until the time he was returned to me (ready to walk out of the building and jump into the car). The bulk of the time was taken up with putting him to sleep and waking him up (the radiation itself took only a matter of seconds).

The last 3 radiation treatments and the following two weeks were the hardest part for both Salty and I. When Salty started experiencing a lot of pain in the irradiated area after his 17th treatment, it was very hard to bring him in for the next 3 treatments, knowing it would hurt him even more after it was already hurting him so much. Salty was also beginning to show signs of a 2nd degree burn in the area of the incision where the tumor was removed. Over the next 3 days, this spread over the entire area. The extreme skin tenderness and the 2nd degree burn were the only side effects Salty experienced from the radiation treatments.

Several times a day, I needed to soak the area with Epsom salts and apply an all purpose salve from Wise Woman Herbals. It was too painful for Salty to accept the salve in the beginning, so I sprayed the area with refrigerated Aloe Vera until I could apply the salve.

Our greatest challenge was preventing Salty from licking the irradiated area, and it was vital that he didn’t so as not to affect the healing process. We were told that it was very important to prevent him from scratching, licking or chewing, since the skin in this area is easily injured. After several days of frustration and sleepless nights, I came up with a solution that worked, an E-collar AND a No Bite Collar because neither one of them worked alone!

It took almost 3 weeks after the final radiation treatment for the entire area to heal, and the only thing we are presently applying to his skin is Vitamin E. We were told that the side-effects of the radiation on the skin and coat of dogs receiving the same treatment can vary with each dog. So, we can only wait and see, but Salty’s hair has been coming in on the outer edges and slowly working its way towards the center (causing the area to become smaller as time goes by).

We’ve never regretted our decision, especially after meeting and talking with a lady who was going to the Oncology center during the same period of time. She was having her cat treated with radiation for a Soft Tissue Sarcoma as well. Her vet removed it once, it returned in 6 months, her vet removed it again, it returned in 3 months, her vet removed it again, it returned in 1 month. At that point, she opted for radiation treatment. I was told that Salty would have had the same case scenario if we didn’t choose radiation. After radiation, there’s only a 16% chance that the cancer will return in 5 years. We’re hoping that Salty will be within the 84%!

photos from top to bottom:

Salty at AKC Central Point 2009
Salty and friend
Salty's surgical/radiation wound
Wound healing nicely
"Open Jumpers"
"Open Weavers"
"I AM A Cancer Survivor!"