It began with a lump on her front leg. I thought it was something simple, such as a sprain, or even bad reaction to a bug bite. She was limping however, so an appointment that day with our local vet seemed like the most prudent action. As there were concerns as to the cause of swelling, we went ahead with x-rays of the leg; in my mind pushing back the possibility of the mention of cancer, there is no way that could happen to such a dog as Scooby (as hope was the only option). Then, looking at the x-ray, the vet began her canned speech of this is a typical view of what osteosarcoma looks like in dogs, and considering Scooby’s breed, the vet was leaning to bone cancer as a diagnosis. Hearing that news dropped me to my knees, both quite literally and figuratively. As many people can relate, it was one of those moments in time when you feel completely disconnected; your mind separates from the situation in complete shock, while still attempting to control your body, nod and shake your head, grin and bear the information.
After bracing from the news, taking time to consider all the possibilities, as it wasn’t a firm diagnosis, I scheduled the appointment with an oncologist local to the area. In discussing the worst case scenario of osteosarcoma, we decided to proceed with a bone biopsy to rule out valley fever as a cause for the lump, as Scooby has had a history and recovered previously from valley fever (a very common fungus to Phoenix, AZ).
What no one prepared me for was the difficulty and pain Scooby would endure when recuperating from the bone biopsy. Later, after discussing the pain and frustration for Scooby, they all concurred that this was common as the procedure causes strain on an area that is already sensitive, even so, my husband and I (and our oncologist) thought this was the best next course. After a week of adapting to the new pain in Scooby’s leg, we received the official diagnosis, the tissue revealed osteosarcoma.
During the limbo, where there is ultimately the highest of hopes, waiting and believing in miracles, that yes, this could just in fact be valley fever, hope balances on a very thin sword. And although you can make yourself believe that you are in fact prepared, and that you can handle whatever the diagnosis may be, there is such finality in hearing that word, ‘cancer’, for which one can never adequately prepare. Friends and family do their best to comfort, to console, to empathize, and to soothe; however, harboring such anguish, fear, dread, and grief for your loved companion are emotions and a path in which we all ultimately walk alone.
“Dogs are our link to paradise. They don’t know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring–it was peace.”
– Milan Kundera
Oh, I so remember that place of limbo, all the precarious hopes and wishes and denial. I also recall Catie’s pain from the biopsies – she had to have two because the first came back negative; the second clearly showed cancer. I have never regretted the amputation; I did chide myself for putting her through two biopsies though.
I’m sorry about Scooby’s diagnosis. It’s a harsh road but, I have to tell you almost nine months later, Catie has taught me so much about myself, about picking myself up when I don’t want to, about strength and acceptance and about joy.
Sending you many good wishes.
Hi Scooby!
Welcome to the tripawds community. Wish you didn’t have to join, but you will find lots of helpful pawrents here. We are all on your team! Do good.
Carmen, it is always great to hear about a dog that is doing so well 9 months after the diagnosis; Catie sounds like an amazing dog. As difficult as those first weeks have been, I can now take the time to truly appreciate each moment and each day that we have with her.
Dogs do show us things that are often quite unexpected, but can make the world of difference.
-Sheleen
All that you describe happened to me and my poodle James. Except that I was never so eloquent. I was in shock and just tried to make it through the day and make all those decisions that need to be made. I am so sorry that the biopsies caused Scooby so much pain. How is Scooby now???
My James is going to have his 3 month ampuversary this week and I have never regretted the decision to have his leg amputated or to go through chemo treatments. You don’t have to walk alone here. I felt that my friends didn’t “know” what I was going through, but this community really does. We are on the same journey through fear and anguish, but also through joy and strength.
Nancy and James the poodle
I, too, can relate to all your concerns, thoughts and the anguish. I thought I was prepared as well but…..I wasn’t. But just little over a year later and my dog, Maggie is just as healthy now, missing a leg, as she was with four! She’s having a blast and I’m sooooooooo happy she’s still here!
I won’t sugar coat it though….it was a rough 2 weeks of hell after amputation. Some do extremely well and others have lots of ups and downs… Read the website and as much information as you can get prior to the surgery. I found Tripawds two months after…sure wish I’d found it before!
Good luck with your pup…we’re here for you.
Tracy, Maggie’s Mom
Aww, hi Scooby!! Your Scooby girl is a beauty.
I am sorry that you have to come to this community but when you receive that diagnosis, this is the best place you can be. We all understand all of the those feelings of anguish, fear, dread, greif and more.
The journey you take with your beloved companion, as you battle this cancer side-by-side will deepen the bond you have with her (which I know is hard to believe). When you see their fighting spirit, their strong will to be well and happy and normal and their continuing love for you, your love will grow even stronger. They will teach you new depths of how perfect their spirit is.
I had a very rocky road with my golden, Honey after amputation. None of it was related to the surgery…actually she adjusted to being a tripawd quite well. Unfortunately we only had 2 more months with her. But I never regretted for a moment, the surgery. Although her time was short, she was herself again for a short time. And she was not in pain anymore.
I wish your Scooby well and look forward to reading updates on her progress.
Give her a smooch for us!
Honeygurl’s pack
You are so right, hearing the dreaded diagnosis is simply numbing. We elected to just go right ahead with the amputation as we don’t typically encounter the fungus infection you spoke of. Tai’s amputation was done 3 days after diagnosis (due to a weekend). The two weeks post amp were difficult and I didn’t know about the Tripawds website at the time so I was a bit in the dark. There is so much great information here, and endless support. Tai had a really great 10 months post amp – she adapted to three legs exceptionally well and enjoyed a very high quality of life right to the very end. I’ll be keeping you in my thoughts. Sending lots of healing prayers your way.
Laura and Angel Tai
Hi Scooby and family,
Eloquent is the word, very well desribed. That is exactly what we went through too. The two weeks after Sammy had his amputation was awful, but 2 months later he is back to his bouncing joyous self.
I am sorry you and your family are dealing with this. It has helped me more than any book to have this place to come to. I hope it helps you too.
I would suggest that you start a ‘diary’ of sorts. Write down all times he eats and drinks and goes out for a potty break following his surgery. There will undoubtedly be many sleepless nights and at that point it helps to look back through and realize that he is getting nourishment and there are little improvements.
It will also help with the pain meds schedule.
I suggest loading up on cheese, and tidbits he enjoys eating because it can be difficult getting pills down these guys once they have major surgery.
Best wishes for a smooth journey,
Elizabeth and Sammy
Scooby, we are so sorry that you had to go through the diagnosis ordeal, but there will come a time very soon when you feel great again, and life is even better than before. I know that’s hard to believe, but what we found when I went through it was that there IS life after a diagnosis, and that even cancer, as awful as it is, has blessings in store as long as your pack is open to receive them.
We are here for you, you are most definitely not alone.