We Know Now

This couldn't be worse...or could it be? It is the nightmare that is the truest of all nightmares.  We had so hoped that this would not be related to his osteosarcoma.  We believed in our hearts that this little guy was going to beat this thing called bone cancer. Period. End of story.  And then there came the"but". We didn't want to know the outcome of the surgery, we asked specifically not to be told and now looking back I wonder if we were just being foolish and unfair to him and maybe at that particular time in space, we could have done more to have avoided the issue we face now.  It appears the bone cancer may have spread to the upper area of the bridge of his nose and now it could very well be broken...or so the oncologist we spoke with said.  We spent a good deal of time talking.  It seemed like hours when it was just about an hour and we looked down on this little guy and thought what have we got here? She suspected it right away and knew what we were dealing with and had the compassion to give it to me straight without quibbling.  I knew we had asked her not to let us know and she didn't and yet we wonder now if we were just denying the fact that the surgeon couldn't get a clean margin.  When he had the surgery the tumor was large.  It was a large part of his jaw, but we thought we had clean bone and yet the pathology report said otherwise.  So it's had this time to grow and be what it is, bone cancer and it's probably destroyed the bone that was his nose.  The poor little guy has a hard time eating, his breathing is different, his little nose can go from side to side...which the doctor was able to do and shouldn't be able to do and he runs from us if we try to feed him.

It's not looking good for our little Mack.

So on Thursday we go to the oncology department again for x-rays and we'll see what is going on with the area and if they need to,  they'll do a CAT scan, but it may not be necessary. They may be able to see it without having to put him through anything else.  He came home with pain medications and when we find out on Thursday what we're dealing with, it may be time to contact the hospice vet and discussing pain management issues with her.  But we'll also be picking a time and that seems so unreal to me because basically we'll be putting to sleep a pretty healthy dog because he can't eat...seems so unfair to me and to him.  They discussed feeding tubes and Bob is not a fan of the idea but I might consider it if it meant that he was in a good place with no pain and could tolerate it.  If the only thing wrong is the broken bone, and no sign of cancer, the oncologist said they can't fix it...so it would again mean putting to sleep a dog who has no sign of cancer but a broken nose? How can we do that? I have to ask myself what is best for Mack, but when he looks at you with life in his eyes, how can I put him to sleep?  How do you put him to sleep when the only thing wrong is a broken bone?  Of course the vet. did say we could inject him with Fosamax which is a drug to build bone back up and they have done that for dogs with bone cancer fractures...so we could go for that if there is no evidence of cancer or discernible cancer that is.  I believed in my heart that he was free of it, but I was deluding myself I know.

My little Mack is my heart and I can't even begin to imagine or consider letting him go and we are beside ourselves now with the loss of his sister and now this.  It is breaking my heart in two.
Can there really be this much pain when you lose a special pet like Mack?
I am dreading and hating this day and the days after and the day when we say our last goodbye.

I keep praying for a good outcome and I know that God listens, I just know that it's not always going to be what we want.

What is the issue!!

I wish we knew what was going on with him, but now we're back with him not wanting to eat and acting like he's afraid to take anything from me.  It is frustrating and mind numbing when we realize it's so much like what Oreo began to do when she didn't feel well.  It is so hard to know what the issue is with him. You so wish they talk!! They could just look at you and simply say, I don't feel well here, I don't feel well here.  It is mind reading and you are guessing at the reasons why they are acting like they do.  He is acting like he doesn't feel well and we are at Tuesday and we still need to make it to Thursday or sooner.

I even asked Bob should we take him to the ER? Do we know what to tell them when we do? That he is not acting like himself? That he seems desperate to tell me something but I don't know what it is? That we are at a loss as to why he is doing what he's doing, even though he slept ok last night, that he seems to be restful for the most part except after giving him a bath this morning?  It seems as if he can't find the spot he needs to go to, and he keeps telling me to find it and let him know!

So this is where we are after so many relatively good months and November 11, 2013 will mark 11 months since his surgery. But it's also the month we finally made a follow up appointment with the original surgeon who did the removal of his jaw and now another oncology appointment on Thursday of this week so we can follow up with the doctor who showed us such compassion and concern.  I fear we are seeing something so similar to Oreo that we are facing another long goodbye...how can it be that he would have the same thing?? But he sits here shaking like she did and trembling...it's like a nightmare and I can't get out of it.

So we will face another bad thing and we have no idea what we'll do...put him through the hell that was oncology? Or surgery? Or just let him go?  What is the answer again...

We will check him in tonight if we have to at the ER and we'll be praying for a miracle either way.

We love you Diggie Dog.

Oh No...

Just when you think your life is just sailing on, that nothing ahead looks bad, that most of what you went through is a thing of the past, it's just clear sailing ahead,  you get rocked by a huge wave and your swamped with despair and worry. And suddenly the shoals of life are coming at you...

We had such good times the last seven months of Mack's recovery. He had a recent check up and all was well and everyone was thrilled by his progress, which given his remarkable recovery from maxillary osteosarcoma and the removal of his jaw and cheekbone, it was pretty rosy. But as life would have it a big wave of uncertainty hit us, we watched as we began to see some odd behavior never seen before and wondered, what are we seeing now?

He started to drink his water, but as he approached the bowl that he's been drinking out of for probably  10 years, he stopped and jumped back as if it had attacked him.  The process continued until we noticed he just would not drink water. We tried every tactic there was to encourage him to get water from his familiar bowl, but it was to no avail...

We tried different bowls and different colors, shapes, types and depths, but he would still come to the water, wanting it so much, but unable to get it anywhere near his mouth.  Finally I resorted to putting it in a spoon and letting him lap that until that became a traumatic experience.  We tried water in a syringe, only he would have NONE of that and eventually we were considering putting water in all of his food in order to make sure that he was getting adequate fluids.   Of course this meant taking him back to the vet. we had just taken him to for his regular check up and asking her what all this could mean.  We also noticed one other strange and disturbing thing and that was when we gave him one of his all time favorite biscuits, he tried to chew it and then promptly spit it out...that was not a good sign.

So we took him to the vet. that has known him since we first got him and she did a thorough examination once again, taking his temperature, trying to look into his mouth, checking is eyes, his back, his neck, the whole enchilada and she didn't find anything unusual.  She asked us how his overall appetite was and that has not diminished, thank God, but the fact that he was acting like a jack rabbit when it came to drinking water, well that was disturbing.  But what was more disturbing was her observation that she thought the eye that was on the side of his surgery appeared to be enlarged, bulging a bit more and definitely not looking as good as she last saw it...

Unfortunately that is the side where the osteosarcoma was found and removed,  right below the eye in question and now the weird and disturbing drinking and eating behavior just serves to heighten our anxiety about the cancer and whether this is a sign of something happening.  We are beside ourselves as  it is, because recently our other dog, his sister Oreo (another blog to come) has been diagnosed with lymphoma of the intestines. She has since survived septicemia by emergency surgery and is now scheduled to begin chemo for several months with a 50-50 chance of remission.  Talk about stress, and now this.

We watched tonight as he didn't want his soft food.  At first I thought I would hand feed him again, but decided to walk away from the dish and let him decide if he was hungry enough and brave enough to eat it.  Turns out that was the right decision because he did eat out of the dish, but while watching him he would lift one leg up and teeter on three legs, move forward and do it on the opposite side and then back up and try again, then teeter some more and try to reposition himself to the side so he could attack the food again, instead of the usual vacuum cleaner eating he's always done. It was a much longer and harder process and his sister beat him by finishing in record time when she's never been one to be the first to finish.   Concerning beyond words is all we can say...

So tomorrow will be a day of extreme anxiety and watchfulness.  We will wait as patiently for both dogs to finish their vet. appointments, one for the chemo she will have for the next six months every week to two weeks, the other for the results of the two x-rays and dental exam and skull exam to see if there is anything going on. We are not putting our heads in the sand now and we know there may be some rough seas ahead, but we can't help but pray for deliverance from the rocky shores ahead. It is a far distant shore we face, the tossing and turning of our little boat that holds our precious family is at risk.  We can only bow our heads and pray for the merciful God we believe in to answer our many prayers for deliverance from pain and suffering for our little ones.

So onward we sail with our little Mack at the helm, and we can only shout out to him, You go Mack, you beat the odds, let's see if you can't do it again, sail on buddy, sail on!

The Vagaries of Life

It's been quite some time since I last wrote, but since that time, Diggie Dog has reached his 7 months post op and doing well. He is full of energy, has a great appetite and seems to be feeling pretty darn good. No issues other than with his eyes which are chronically dry and have a bit of wheeping on the surgical side which seems to be constant since the surgery. His last check up with his favorite vet was pretty darn good, he showed nothing unusual going on and he showed no signs of ill health. There are no signs of the incision and it's healed almost to the point of not even being able to see it, which is testament to the surgeon who did the job!

But sadly within the last few days, his sister, Oreo has developed a very serious kidney problem and we are beyond worry, so a new focus has to be made to find out what is going on with her and why she is so sick. It will be the beginning of a new blog, titled Little Girl. She is that, our little girl. We are beyond devastated because this is not a good situation, not one that will have a particularly great outcome if we can't get her to eat and recover because the damage may have already been done.

For now our Mack continues to do his best to defy the odds and is our miracle dog, now we have to pray for another miracle for Oreo.

Nothing New is Good News

The last post was "published" today but it was written many moons ago. I have taken a break from writing and mostly because there has been little change since the beginning of Mack's situation in December and the last few months and that makes me smile. Thank God! Thank God there has been so little to write about him and that is a good thing. In two days it will be four months post surgery and the only thing stronger and more definite is the love I feel for this little guy and the unbelievable proportions and depth it's gone to.  If you could see him now you would see a fully grown out curled up dog, sleeping dog who is at rest.  He doesn't necessarily have the same energy levels he did before, but then again, we have to remind ourselves he is 13 years old.

It's ok that I took a break from writing, no one is reading my blogs, so I can just take a rest from the constant rumination and thoughts that this blog can bring out. If I start thinking post surgery I start thinking about counting out the months, then I go from there to what the doctors have said about this and then I get depressed.  If I were to believe he was not cancer free, it would mean that if we're lucky we have about 12 to 18 months or less with him,  but I don't go there. I believe he is cancer free and we will have him for his natural, long life.  I can't believe anything else and refuse to accept that we did this for nothing.  He is cancer free. Period.

For all intents and purposes, he is a totally normal dog. Eats like a fiend, runs outside to explore the yard and sits on the deck and loves the outside and the sun. He runs pretty much where ever he is going and if he knows I'm coming home, he will bark and whine and run around me when I get in the house.
He sometimes even initiates play with our other dog Oreo and sniffs the air like he was a puppy again.  When we feed him he dances to his dish on his back legs even though the one leg has no cartilage or knee joint left and yet, he sleeps on his back and relaxes only when I'm home with him.

Sadly I had to break him of his habit of sleeping with us on the bed. I was not getting any sleep and sometimes I think he wasn't either. If I tried to move and he was right next to me, it was like I was sleeping up against a wall of dog.  He would not budge and so I would have to cede my space and eventually find myself sleeping on the very edge of the bed. It wasn't working for my back and I certainly know it wasn't really allowing him to sleep freely. He was vigilant with where I was on the bed, at times sleeping with his back legs against my back and kicking me when he moved.  It was not good for me and I had to convince myself he'd be better off in his own bed. Besides his bed has the same mattress we have!  His crate his is own space, I think it works out ok that way.

He is still the love of my life, I say this because it's so true. Something about this dog from the very beginning was a love affair and he felt it too. I know he did, because I was the only one who could have him in my lap as a very tiny puppy and he would just go to sleep.  No one  in the family ever got him to do that because most of the time he was a wild and crazy dog~but with me, he calmed down and stayed in my lap the entire time I was there. I would look for him when I came in and he would come up and grab my hand and want to play.  A truly wild and energetic dog and he stayed that way for a long, long time. Until of course we got his biological sister and that changed the dynamics of our play time. We thought we were doing the right thing by getting him a playmate, only to find out that she was not a sharer of toys and dominated the play time whenever we tried to play with him. We have to literally lock her out of a room and play with him for a little while just to have that time. Or go where she won't go and have that quiet and loving time alone.  She turned out to be very jealous of his attachment to me because she is attached to me and she considers him an interloper. We have to continually correct and protect him from that attitude and as long as we have him, he will be the top dog, no matter what Oreo thinks.

We go along on our way on this journey and pray we are spending quality time with him.  We were away for ten days and it was such a long time to be gone. I wanted to be home as soon as we left and couldn't wait to get home when we head that way. It is so like a child that you hate leaving him. It was way too long for me and I was never so happy to get home and have him in my lap.  Just the happiness and frantic way they greeted us told me that they had missed us.

Life moves along at this pace and it is ok that I don't fill pages of this blog with anything more than for now, Mack is a winner.  He is strong, healthy and gaining weight and he looks great. We are due for some new pictures of his four month recovery and then I'll send them along to his veterinarians and hope they enjoy knowing of a success story.  That is what I consider him, the miracle dog.

My sweet Mack, you are like a Mack attack to the heart.

The More Things Change

It's such a beautiful day outside and we spent some part of it just sitting in the grass, Mack and I, looking at the trees and for Mack, smelling whatever was blowing in the wind.  Usually his habit is to lay down on the deck, lay there with the sun shining into his eyes with his eyes shut.  But all of a sudden he was up and gone and around the corner from me, laying down on the grass that is nearest the side of the house.  Odd behavior in some ways but at the same time this is the first time he's actually gone off on his own without knowing where I am and been out "exploring".  He used to walk the entire yard and sniff everything and everywhere and so this little change in habit was either a good sign or not, hard to know.

The last few days I've felt a sense of unease about him. He is still eating great, has been going to the bathroom just fine, drinking water, and sleeping pretty soundly, but in some ways there is a sense of anxiety on his part whenever I'm not in sight of him.  Even when he's with me, he seems restless and ill at ease.  I can't tell what all is the matter because for some reason I'm not speaking Mackese, but he seems to want to tell me something and I'm not getting the message.  I try so many things, like do you want to go out? Do you want a treat? Do you want to lie down? Do you want to sit in my lap? And none of these are the answers he seeks. I can't get into his head and I wish at times I could read his mind, but he's like a little infant that I can't comfort and with it comes frustration and worry.  That has been the last two or three days. Last night I finally relented and gave him a benedryl because as the vet. said, the skin irritation is coming back to bother him and he has more and more spots that are flaring up again. They look so angry and red that the spray has to be done almost twice a day. Always in the same spot and area and he licks them till they are raw.  We have yet to figure out what causes this but it seems to come at the same time every year. If we could figure it out I'd keep him away from it all the time, but the vet. says it's more likely to be a pollen based issue, since it's seasonal.

It comes to me at times when I look at him that more has changed than stayed the same for him, since the lively and spirited little Mack is not with us anymore. I can't relate the new behavior to his old one and find that he seems different to me in more ways than the way he looks and that bothers me more than I realize.  I guess it comes down to the thought that we took him in one way and he came out another and with it came the attendant  changes in his spirited personality that I thought would not be effected.  They didn't tell us we'd have a different dog when he came home and that with his new appearance he would be deaf and so that makes me wonder all over again was it worth it to do that to him, to change the very dog he was before to what he is now.  He is far more anxious than I realize, he shivers at times, he begs me to do something that I can't figure out, he follows me from room to room, cries more when we're not in the house with him, looks all over for me when he can't see me in a frantic search for security and sleeps less soundly sometimes and coughs in his sleep and sometimes seems to struggle to get the next breath.  Snuffling is fine, but when he seems to have difficulty breathing, that is not fine.  Before the surgery, he didn't need me as much, he was independent and funny and boisterous and playful and interested and happy and just as happy when we were there as not. This new dependence on us you would think would be flattering but it's worrisome because this is not the dog we had before.  He is different, and I wish as the saying goes, "the more things change the more they stay the same" would in reality be true for him, but the more things changed, the more different he became.  Maybe this change in behavior comes down to the deafness factor and the inability to judge the world by sound.   It would be rather frightening to have that happen and not understand what is going on in your life and relying on sight to guide you.  I'm sure that it has something to do with some of the changes we see in him.

But then I have to remember that he's a dog, with the acceptance of his life just the way he is and how he is with no angst attached.  He is not worried about what he's doing or how he's acting because he doesn't think he's different.  I just know the subtle differences that he has now because I'm more attuned to them and see them as significant and worth noticing.  I can't know how this will play out and that influences me to worry more, that is the biggest difference that could relate back to my sensitivity about this and his new behaviors. At least I hope that is the case.  I keep thinking improvement will mean a return to his old self a bit more every day and when I don't see that it does worry me.

Such a long break from writing, but then that is a good thing. We are so pleased with what seems like a very happy dog. The only signs of some things that are not picture perfect is his persistent issues with skin eruptions that have no cause, the need to be in the same room with you at all times, and the tail in the down position most of the time.  That worries me the most since a tail is an indicator to us that he is not feeling up to par. If there were things going on with him we'd have little indication, but the tail up or down seems to be a way of saying to us, things aren't right here...but then again I could be imagining things and worrying that it is something, when in fact, it's nothing.
Our wonderful oncologist vet. who we only met once has kept in touch and I've sent pictures of the little guy looking great and he does look good and she's written back to say that she spoke with the surgeon who did Mack's surgery and doesn't know what to do with the information.  This is because I asked that we not be told anything. It was a decision I felt I could change if I wanted to but for the moment I wanted to be left in the dark because I felt that he was going to be fine, that we did everything we could for him and if there was anything going on, there was nothing we could do for him so why know...she asked if we wanted to know and so far I've left the email alone and I'm not really sure I want to know. Bob said he'd write to her and tell her to tell him and he'd be able to take it, but I just know that the minute she writes what she knows, that he'll be teary eyed and sad and morose and then I'll know it's not good. I just keep thinking in my mind that he's been cured, and maybe she wants to tell us that it's a good prognosis, but being that it's cancer of the bone, I'm not sure those will be the words she says.
I've gone back and forth about hearing what she has to say, I'm already a mess when it comes to thinking about losing him, so why have to get the bad news all over again? Why torture myself over his  illness, which I think has been taken away?  But then I begin to think of the reasons why it would be good to know so we can make plans, have a ball park idea of what to expect and then go from there. If you treat it like the elephant in the room, the elephant will eventually effect the situation.s  How can it not?  Large issues loom larger.

So I haven't written back yet, but I feel as if I will and then my world will be colored by what she says and what they found. I guess I like living in a make believe world better than reality and sometimes that is necessary, because it's one of the better coping mechanisms out there, avoidance and repression.
Eventually though, it rears it's ugly head and reality slaps you in the face, which I fear could be where we're heading, but I try not to go there either!

So here's the little munchkin looking good and through the screen of our porch, he looks luminous and sweet and loving and cute and all those wonderful things I absolutely love about him.
My sweet Diggie Dog what would you have me do? Hear the words or ignore them?