Our journey into the realm of dog cancer began in early March when our 6 year old Rottie-Tibetan Mastiff mix, Coola, began to favor her left leg. I brought her to our vet and after examining her he prescribed her anti-inflammatories and told me to come back in a week if she was still limping. Sure enough, 5 days later she still had a noticeable limp that had not gotten better. I brought her to the vet that afternoon and x-rays were taken. The results showed what looked very much like bone cancer in the front right leg. I was 100% shocked. Cancer had not even crossed my mind. Did I mention this was the same day as my mini-bachelorette party, my fiance was out of town, and my destination wedding was 5 days away. Of course I cried the whole day, assuming the worse. Thankfully I had good friends who provided kind words, support, and the company of their own dogs during this rough day.
A few days later Danny and I left for our wedding in Oregon, leaving Coola with a sitter, and waited to hear back from our vet the results of a specialist viewing thoracic radiographs and an abdominal ultrasound that were taken a few days prior. On the day of our wedding the vet called and confirmed (as much as one can without a biopsy) that the distortions on the film were cancer, the rest of her body showed no other apparent tumors, and that the recommended next step was to amputate. The night of our wedding (funny how life brings both the beautiful and tragic together) we had a discussion of how to proceed with our sweet girl–the cost, the commitment, the success statistics. The following morning we called and made the appointment to amputate. Three days later, and only a day after we got home, we dropped Coola off at the vet for the removal of her front right leg.
After spending the night at the vet we were given the call that we could pick Coola up the next afternoon. I had looked at post-op surgery pictures of tripawds on this site to help prepare myself for what I would encounter. I thought I would be shocked/horrified/saddened when I saw her. Instead, when the vet techs walked Coola out, I saw our beautiful girl, slightly dopey, a little wobbly, but so happy to see her mom and dad! The hardest part of the day was learning to use a towel sling to help walk our pup out and carry/lift her 75 lb body into our small SUV. We got home and I was prepared for a long, difficult journey of dog pain and depression. We had prepped our home by laying carpet strips along our wooden floor to help her with traction and buying a new kennel to help her stay inactive. We let her into the house and she went straight to her bed, already figuring out how to hop there herself. We spent the next few days marveling at how quickly she was learning to get around on just three legs. The first couple of times she had to go up and down stairs we helped her with the towel sling, but it only took a few days before I realized the sling was barely doing anything. Less then 4 days after surgery Coola could walk on her own without any assistance from mom and dad–even to pee and ‘oop.
Five days after surgery we went to see the vet again and he finally removed the shirt/protective covering she had been wearing the whole time. It was the first time we really got a good look at her incision.
At week 2, we removed the staples which really weren’t doing much at that point. By now Coola was going on longer and longer walks and we finally got a chance to hang out at our favorite coffee shop in West Seattle!
Prior to surgery Coola had always been a fan of laying on elevated surfaces. When downstairs in our basement, though we kept her dog bed on the ground, she would always hop up on a work table and sleep on the wooden surface. We eventually moved her bed up on the table. When upstairs, she would sleep on our bed–a feat that required her jumping almost 3.5 feet up due to the combination of frame and box mattress. Following surgery and the mandated inactivity for two weeks my husband was worried that Coola would try and jump up and hurt herself. My opinion was she would not do anything that she couldn’t accomplish. You could say we both ended up being right. After experimenting one morning with leaving Coola unattended and out of her kennel for the hour I was at the gym I came home to find her comfortably resting on the bed! She had somehow figured out how to jump up on her three legs. The following night I would wake up with a start to the sound of her attempting the leap of faith again but failing, this time landing a little short and tearing a big gash into our comforter with her nails. She whimpered a few moments and then slept that night on her bed on the ground. The following day she tried again and was successful. She hasn’t failed again since.
Coola continues to be an inspiration everyday. Other then the first week after surgery, when she occasionally whimpered due to pain, she hasn’t “complained” or been a tough patient. She eats her food everyday, and manages to take down 80% of the pills mom tries to sneak in. She’s tackled the long row of stairs leading down to the basement, and the crocked, wobbly stairs in the backyard. She can hop up on every surface she did prior to surgery. She’s found a new love for one of our house cats and moons after him for hours, hoping around the house following him. Her zest for life and adventure continues to thrive. She loves her walks and races up the hills at a much faster pace then she used to (I’m told this is because it’s easier for tripawds to hop more quickly for balance). We had our first chemo appointment today and Coola came back home excited, butt wiggling, ready for whatever comes next. We’re keeping our thoughts positive and living everyday to it’s fullest. Here’s to starting our three-legged adventure story!
