Hold them close
We have had two of our dogs recently diagnosed with cancer. Our 12 year old "retired" male Gordon (he lost his back foot at birth when his mother accidentally bit it off while cleaning him) was diagnosed with a cancerous growth on his thyroid. We noticed a hard lump in our frequent "going over" of him that we try to do with all of our dogs. We had 4 options for his treatment, including an iodine radiation treatment similar to that administered to humans. We've opted to start with a chemotherapy given orally, and he is at his third administration which is when the Doctors said we might see if he is going to react badly to the therapy. We have our fingers crossed.
Our other girl and best hunter at present, Cedar, was found to have a melanoma tumor in her mouth when we took her in to have her teeth cleaned. She had surgery to remove the growth that also took part of her upper jaw as well as part of her hard and soft palette. The surgeon reconstructed her missing palette with tissue from her cheek. It's been an ordeal getting food and water into her as she recovers, but my wife has been feeding her with a syringe. Our lives have been about dog care and traveling to and from the University of Missouri College of Veterinary Medicine for treatment. The mileage is adding up at over 200 miles a round trip, but I feel blessed that we live near such a good facility.
Yesterday, I inadvertently left our pup, Aspen's, kennel door open and he ran off, I'm sure lured by some critter wandering out back of the kennels. Anyone who has lost a dog knows the anxiety of the affair. I walked the bottoms behind our house all afternoon, and drove the back roads stopping at every neighbor's place I could find someone home. We spent a long anxious night hoping for good news. At about 10:00 am this morning my wife, who was staying at the house in case he returned and to be by the house phone, called to say that one of our neighbors had brought him home. You could see in him what a traumatic experience he'd had. It stormed last night to add to the misery. But, he's back with us.
If there's a bright spot in all of this, it is the fact that we found both of our dogs' cancers fairly early. Although the prognosis is not good for either dog, we still have hope that they will be with us pain free for a while longer. The oncologist believes Cedar will be able to hunt this season, and the treatment she's receiving -- a vaccine made from human DNA -- has a 50% chance of a dog living over a year. Each day is a gift.
So, if there's a message here it's to check your dogs every day. We actually were keyed into Cedar's situation by the other dogs sniffing at her mouth. They find cuts and even ticks on each other and let us know by their actions.
Our hunting companions don't live long enough anyway, but things like this heighten your awareness of the fragility of life. I hurt when I read posts of members losing their dogs. It's heartbreaking.
Although we've had to rearrange our schedule, we still plan to be in Minnesota for two weeks, now at the end of October so that we can keep the treatment schedules. I don't know how much hunting we'll get done, but at least we have the prospect of one more season -- and we'll all be together. We never really know how much time any of us has.
Hold your dogs close.
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"Doubtless the good Lord could have made a better game bird than bobwhite, and better country to hunt him in...but equally doubtless, he never did." -- Guy de la Valdene (from A Handful of Feathers )
"'I promise you,' he said, 'on my word of honor, I won't die on the opening of the bird season.'" -- Robert Ruark (from The Old Man and the Boy)
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09-27-2019, 03:20 PM
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