It’s 3:00 AM on Tuesday and I’m wide awake. Four hours sleep might have to be enough; the alarm is set for 6:00. Work will be a bit of a struggle today.
The house is quiet. Riley’s curled up on the dog pillow in the kitchen; Catie’s somehow managed to crawl up on the bed in the room that once belonged to one of the children. She’s been finding it impossible of late to climb up on our king size bed. I can’t count the times I’ve awakened in the morning with her body spooned against mine; her head sharing my pillow. Will she be able to do this again? I’ve missed her warmth these past few weeks when the weather’s plunged to -30C.
I’m not sure what I’m feeling. Fear over the days ahead. Worry over whether we’re doing the right thing; is this what Catie wants? Will she be okay? Will she adapt to life with three legs? How much time will she have? Does it matter? Heartbreak over the pain she suffers with such silent stoicism, the evidence of discomfort in her hesitation to move, her severely hobbled gait, her atrophied right foreleg; the little furrow between her eyes. Despite the inconceivable pain she must be experiencing, she still gets excited when visitors come; she still barks at the mailman and the hares that taunt her from beneath the spruce tree in the front yard; and she still tries to make snow angels in the snow on the back deck.
We first met the specialist on December 28, armed with equal parts anxiety and optimism and the two sets of xrays taken on November 13 and December 21 and sent by our own vet for his evaluation. He showed us the suspicious growth on her humerus, the motheaten appearance, the uneven edges of bone, and suggested it was likely bone cancer. Treatment options: amputation and chemotherapy. I could hardly make sense of what he was saying. She just turned six, I thought; we’ve fed her high quality food and taken her for all her check-ups and shots and walked her and loved her and how could this happen?
The surgeon sat on the floor. Catie crawled into his lap and licked his face with great enthusiasm and surprising affection. This dog’s not ready to die, he said. If we wanted to be sure of the diagnosis, he could do a biopsy.
Catie had her first biopsy on December 28. The results we received three days later gave no indication of cancer.
We were happy. We were relieved. The surgeon was perplexed. He consulted with other colleagues, his wife who is also a vet, his mentor in Florida.
She had a second biopsy Wednesday, January 6. This time the surgeon took numerous samples.
One of the samples clearly showed cancer cells. When my husband phoned me at work yesterday with the news, he said, “It’s all worth it if we can give her one more summer of going to the park.”
I’m so sorry to hear about Catie’s diagnosis… My husband and I were also devastated when our 10yr old golden retriever Jake was diagnosed with osteosarcoma after fracturing his leg. We did tons of research, spoke to several vets… and then we found Tripawds. There we read stories of other dogs that had bone cancer and underwent limb amputation. We saw pictures, videos… and saw that there was some hope… maybe not necessarily for a cure, but a chance at some more pain-free and good quality life for our Jake. Some dogs lived a few months longer… some a year or more. So we decided to give our sweet Jake a chance at life and went ahead with the surgery.
Jake recovered quickly… within 2 weeks, and was back swimming and playing with his brother Wolfie… He was slower afterwards… but still enjoying his life and doing all the things he loved to do before… Unfortunately for him (and us), his cancer quickly spread to his spine and less than 2 months after his amputation, we had to let our golden angel go…
Even though Jake’s life was much shorter than we had hoped for… we have never regreted having the surgery… not for one moment!
I wish Catie all the best with her surgery tomorrow, and that she is one of the lucky ones that gets to celebrate many, many ampuversaries with her loving family! Keep us posted with her progress and share some pictures of your sweet golden too!
Angel Jake’s Mom
Please know that we are all routing for Catie…and for her family! Just know that with amputation, she will be free of her horrendous pain…that makes it a little easier to deal with…in your mind…
Tracy, Maggie’s Mom
Worry, uncertainty, and just doubt are silly human emotions that Catie does not understand. But she will pick up on them, which will make her recovery more difficult. Try to follow her lead and just focus on living lifr in the present moment. She only wants to be free of pain, and once she gets through the healing from the amputation surgery, she should be.
Thank you for sharing your feelings. Best wishes in the weeks to come.
Prayers to you and Catie on this big day. Please don’t second guess your decision, you are doing it for HER. As you’ve said, she’s already in pain, after the initial surgery, you will have removed that pain and put an end to it for her. She will surprise you. Hang in there and just take this one day and a time. And please feel free to come vent here, we’ve all been through it.
Dawn and Raven