FACES OF COURAGE GALLERY
This page is dedicated to those who have been
diagnosed or lost to canine cancer. Please Click on any
name to see their photo and to read the words of remembrance, wisdom
and experiences as written by their loving owners. You may
find these tributes to be both heartfelt and heartbreaking at
the same time. They will also provide some comfort where you will
feel that you are not alone in your feelings and may even give you
hope. If you think you may benefit from speaking with others about
your situation or simply would like support from those who know what
you are going through, we encourage you to consider joining a
support group. We have dedicated a special page of support
groups for owners of dogs with cancer should you be
interested.
The candles that are lit beside each
picture are in honor of their courageous fight and the ribbons
beside their names are to stress they will never be forgotten.
Because this page will unfortunately be a constant
"work in progress", please check back often. If you would like to
have your dog's photo and story on this page, please
e-mail your photo, in .jpg format, along with a
brief write-up to info@caninecancerawareness.org and we will post it
for you. Your write-up may include who your fur-baby
is/was, what he/she means/meant to you, your experiences
with battling the cancer or simply a tribute to your
wonderful pet. A small donation to Canine Cancer Awareness
would be appreciated to help defray the costs of maintaining our
web site to provide this service.
Buddy
UPDATE 04-21-08 —
This is my sweet, fun loving friend Buddy. I am the luckiest person that I know
because I was blessed with Buddy for his thirteen years. Buddy was diagnosed
with a nasal tumor in December 2007. I noticed blood coming from his nose one
evening in November and rushed him to the clinic. After many tests the tumor
was discovered.
Buddy and I traveled and lived in many different places in his thirteen years.
Los Angeles, CA Phoenix, AZ, Houston, TX, and finally Tucson, AZ. He made friends
wherever he went, and was always eager to go. He always was excited for a ride
or walk. When he was younger I would take him rollerblading. We would start
by him pulling me and end with me pulling him. I have so many stories and memories
about my Buddy, and all make me smile and laugh. I have friends tell me of
their memories of Buddy and that is very special. One of my friends decided
on getting a dog of the same breed because of the influence that Buddy had
made on him.
On April 7th Buddy suffered a seizure. The cancer had advanced. Buddy was with
me in body for eleven more days. April 18th, after two days in the intensive
care unit at the clinic, I had to make the decision that I had been dreading
for a long time. Our last moments together were spent with me talking to him
and reminding him how much he has meant to me and how much I appreciated his
friendship, loyalty, and companionship. Buddy was in my arms when he passed.
I felt his little heart stop and we shared his last breath. I kissed him and
told him that I loved him.
Buddy is still with me wherever I go in spirit. I know that one day we will
be reunited and the fun and games will begin all over again. I have no regrets
and wouldn't trade a minute with him for anything.
I love you so much Buddy and I miss you more than anyone could ever imagine.
— Bradley
Hannah
UPDATE 04-05-08 —
We lost our beloved Hannah to hemangiosarcoma of the spleen and liver in the early hours of April 1st, 2008.
She was nearing her 12th birthday. Her loss was so unexpected, it still seems like a bad dream.
She had spent the weekend competing in something she so loved: a Dockdogs competition. Although she could no longer
jump as far as she once could, she was so excited to leap into the water after her retrieving duck. She brought home seven
ribbons that weekend. The very next day, as I was preparing her and our four other dogs' dinner, she was conspicuously absent
from the nightly lineup of hungry eyes watching my every move. I called out to her, and finally found her lying on the
living room floor. She was lethargic, and could not get up to walk. As I was on crutches from an injury three
weeks before, I called my wife, who had just left to volunteer helping cats find forever homes. She returned immediately,
and knew instantly upon seeing Hannah that something was very wrong. A neighbor was summoned to help load Hannah into a
blanket and into our van for a trip to the vet ER. She was losing blood, and an ultrasound found a splenic tumor. She
was stabilized, and transported to another ER where surgeons were on-call to operate. As my wife drove through a
rainstorm, I lay on the floor of the van holding her for the 35 minute trip. Through tears, I told her she was the best
dog in the world, and how much we loved her, and how special she was. I prayed that she would be spared any pain or suffering.
On arrival, we made the decision to have the surgery, just in case there was any chance to save her. After an agonizing wait,
the surgeons came out to tell us the bad news; that it had spread to her liver, and she would not live much longer, even if they
were able to remove the cancer. In the most difficult moment of our lives, we made the decision to say goodbye to our precious Hannah.
Although it hurt us terribly, it was no longer about us, but about her quality of life. She left us peacefully at 1:45 in the morning.
We took her home wrapped in a blanket, and made sure that her canine brothers and sister
had the chance to say goodbye to her. In the order that they came to our family, we showed
them her body, and in the way only dogs can, they said goodbye. We took her the next day to our
friend and hometown veterinarian, who cared for her since we were blessed with her entering our
lives, and would take care of her one last time through cremation. A few locks of fur were collected,
and our friend said she would take a pawprint for us. We will scatter her ashes in her hometown near
Lake Michigan, where she learned to swim and dive for rocks. Her spirit will run free, unencumbered by
any pain, soreness, or effects of old age. She will always be with us, till the end of our days, when
we will be reunited once again.
We love you and miss you, our sweet girl and punkin'—
Mike & Cindy, Bandit, Muffasa, Chompers and Peanut.
Legend
May 1, 2007 — April 16, 2007
UPDATE 03-05-08 —
Legend lost a very short battle with a highly aggressive hemangiosarcoma last year.
It was a week from diagnosis to death. He burst into our lives like a rocket and raced toward this final
adventure as he had done with every other adventure in his life. This hole in my heart will never heal.
— Victoria
Phantom
UPDATE 03-05-08 —
Phantom was diagnosed with lymphoma (Stage IV - A) on November 15, 2007.
He was born June 9, 1996 and is thriving under the Madison Wisconsin Protocol.
The cancer is in remission and we are looking toward a bright and happy future for as long as we have together.
— Victoria
Trapper
UPDATE 07-08-07 —
My name is Joanne. My husband, Barry, and I live in Colorado. Eight months ago, our white German Shepherd, Trapper (photo attached) was diagnosed with Lymphoma. We elected to have him treated with chemotherapy (Madison protocol) and feel very fortunate to have been able to do this for him. We love Trapper so much and feel blessed to have been able to afford this treatment for him and to have him in our lives a little longer.
Unfortunately, approximately two weeks ago, Trapper came out of remission. His cancer has become drug resistant and we are just spoiling the heck out of him in his last days. He is doing very well for the most part and remains on prednisone to help with inflammation and any discomfort he may experience.
My husband and I are so happy to have been able to afford this treatment and in response we want to help others that may not be as financially blessed as we. In addition, we want to help your organization financially so you may help others.
— Barry and Joanne (a.k.a Team Trapper)
UPDATE 09-09-07 —
Not a day goes by that we don't miss Trapper. Please feel free to visit our teamtrapper.com website anytime. I will be updating it periodically and if there is anything I can add to help you folks, please let us know.
I hope you are all doing well and enjoying the coming of fall. Please know you are always close to our hearts and we hope we can continue to help your organizations in the coming year.
With warmest regards and loving in memory of Trapper,
— Joanne and Barry
Ritz
UPDATE 03-05-08 —
Ritz came to us in May 1999 and was our Angel Frisbee's protege.
Frisbee was
not friendly with other dogs, and we thought a pup would be her tonic.
What
a difference a pup can make. Ritz was a friend, a companion, a therapy
dog,
an absolute joy to everyone. She NEVER showed aggression toward
anything,
not even when confronted. She would just run to us like a bullied
child. She
was pure loveliness personified from day one. When Frisbee was taken
from us
suddenly in Feb 2000, Ritz was there to hold us all together, as we
were
shaken to the core. Ritz forever the clown and entertainer brought our
family together during our time of healing. Later in the year we
brought
Sassy home, as a friend and playmate for Ritz, she had never been alone
and
we thought she could use a friend. Sassy walked in the door at 6 weeks
old
(us not knowing any better) and not having learned the pecking order,
took
one look at Ritz and said "Right, your number two?" and claimed the
role of
lead dog in the pack. Ritz was more than happy just to be included.
From
then on they were inseperable, joined at the hip, buddies. Ritz was
supposed
to show Sassy the way, as Frisbee had done for Ritz, but instead Ritz
regressed back to puppyhood, and now we had one very large puppy and
one
very small lead dog, what a pair!
As the years have gone on, we realised that we needed both of our
girls, one
the lovely friend, nearly human, "therapy dog" Ritz, and one the
guarding,
protecting , tough and sassy to the core "house dog" Sassy.
Ritz was our glue, our batteries, our friend. She was there for us when
we
lost Frisbee, My wife's Mum Sheila, and during my wife's recent long
illness, she was there comforting, and loving and always bringing
smiles to
our faces.
We miss you baby,
— From Mum & Dad, Grandad & Sassy x
UPDATE 03-05-08 —
Hi again, I think I forgot to add...
Ritz was diagnosed with splenic hemangiosarcoma on Dec 5, 2007
following an
emergency splenectomy after it burst on Nov 27th/28th 2007 up until
then she
had no warning signs.
And the Grand Canyon pales in comparison as to the size hole she has
left in
our lives, Sassy included!
Many thanks
K&L&S
Heidi
UPDATE 01-27-08 —
Heidi Gaspard, beloved friend & companion, was diagnosed with carcinoma December
19, 2007. She had been having complications with digestion for months previous
to her biopsy. The vet told us that we'd be lucky for 6 weeks more. January
26, 2008 - 1 year, 1 month, and 7 days later, she passed away. We were extremely
fortunate to have been given the gift of time with her. Her quality of life
was excellent in her condition for all of that extra time as she continued to
chase squirrels and play with her friends, Boss & Gigi. She fascinated the science
world as she beat so many odds and was such a tough fighter. We felt blessed
to have been home with her and lucky that she wasn't in pain. She was everything
and more that we could have ever hoped for in a companion and family member.
She touched our lives and stole our hearts. Until we meet again, I hope you
make new friends and wait for us to be with you once more. We love you Heidi—
Brett, Erin, Boss & Gigi
Bingo
April 1, 2000—February 18, 2008
UPDATE 03-02-08 —
Bingo was truly inspirational to me! No matter what life threw at him, he handled
it with a dopey smile and a wag of his tail. He truly is how I want to be!
Three years ago, I lost my Border Collie, Levi, to epilepsy. That was a difficult
fight...we never got good control over his epilepsy. When he went to the Bridge,
I decided I wanted another Border Collie. I searched the rescues, applied,
was approved, and the wait began. Every dog I was interested in had a waiting
list...great for them, bad for me. One day I received a call from one of the
rescues. She told me there was a 4-year-old male Border Collie down in Missouri
at Animal Control. They didn't have a foster home for him, and he was in danger
of being euthanized if he wasn't moved. I adopted him sight unseen...He had
a rough start in life, and I vowed to do everything I could to make him happy...he
was a great dog and deserved it. We tried agility. Border Collies are supposed
to be good agility dogs...NOT! Not "Bing", he was the clumsiest Border Collie
I've ever met. Flyball? NOPE! No ball interest. Herding? Sheep? SHEEP! This
was truly Bingo's calling. It was beautiful to watch! I took him to a herding
instinct test and boy did the instinct kick in!! We started taking lessons!
In January of 2007, I noticed Bingo limping. Occasionally. Then more frequently.
When I had the vet check, after numerous referrals to other specialists, it
turned out to be a neural sheath tumor.
After much agonizing over
it, I decided to have the leg amputated. I knew we could deal with it, and the
prognosis was good. On May 5, 2007, Bingo became my beloved Tri-Paw Border Collie.
He bounced back quickly. Two weeks after his surgery, a section of his incision
necrosed and became infected. He went back in for it to be cleaned and resutured.
The next week, we returned to the vet to have some more of the staples/sutures
removed. I mentioned to the vet that I noticed Bingo had these huge lumps under
his chin. They took an aspirate. The results came back lymphoma. I was devastated.
Again, after much soul searching, I opted for chemotherapy. Bing did remarkably
well. We had a few bad days, but always came through them! Bing attended summer
Dog Camp in August, and Doggie Dance Camp in September. We finished the 19 week
protocol in Oct. 2007. A few weeks later, I noticed Bingo straining to go to
the bathroom, and wanting to go urgently. October 20, 2007 we took him to the
vet...unbelievable!! The vet found a mass near his prostate.There was nothing
more they could do. I decided to try a holistic veterinarian. We started holistic
supplements along with Western medications. He has started to be able to urinate
on his own and did well. Sadly, Bingo lost his fight on February 18, 2008. No
one expected my boy to fight for this long! I am grateful for everyday we had!
He fought bravely, always with that goofy Bingo grin. He had a will like no
other and a spirit that couldn't be broken! Bingo is my canine soul mate and
I love him dearly. This was so unfair! Bingo was such a gentle soul...he truly
is my best friend! Things just won't be the same. I am lucky to have had Bingo
in my life...even for such a short time. Letting him go was the greatest final
gift I could give him. Cancer didn't win...he won! He's finally free! Run free,
sweet Bingo, run free! I love and miss you...always.
—Mary
Rhayngo
UPDATE 02-13-08 —
This is my girl Rhayngo. Rhayngo was a beautiful creature who graced
me with her presence for 8 1/2 years. She was caring and loyal and my
very best friend. Rhayngo passed away on January 29, 2007, after
suffering with Canine Cancer Lymphoma. She was diagnosed only 3 weeks
before her passing.
The loss of Rhayngo is devastating to me as I think about her
constantly. Everywhere I go is a reminder of what she meant to
me...and how much we loved each other. I cannot put into words how
incredibly grateful I am to have shared a life with her. Rhayngo
taught me incredible strength, perseverance, courage, and loyalty
from which I am eternally grateful.
We were a team and now I am lost, very lost. I pray that my angel is
still watching over me.
—Michelle
Ira of Dog Island
199?—2008
UPDATE 04-15-08 —
Thanks again for allowing us to a part of Canine Cancer Awareness.
Ira passed away April 15, 2008.
UPDATE 01-29-08 —
Ira is of indeterminate age, I found in the West Indies on an island called St. Kitts
where I was attending veterinary school. It has now been just over 10 years and he has lymphoma.
He is about four weeks into his diagnosis and the lymph nodes enlarge everyday. He seems blissfully
unaware as we have just gotten back from our local dog park. I don't know if I will be able to write
about him once he is gone so here is my most beloved friend.
—Ira
Sydney Roo
UPDATE 02-05-08 —
Hello...I am writing because my dog, Sydney Roo, was diagnosed with
Hemangiosarcoma today. She is a German Shepherd/Rottweiler mix who just
turned 10 yrs old in Dec 2007.
She was acting totally fine untill Dec 2007...when
she stopped eating her regular dog food...she would actually flip
her dog bowl over and sometimes even throw it. Then she stopped
eating that dog food all together. I tried other brands, dry dog food mixed
with can dog food, that worked for a few days and then she stopped eating
that as well. Then I tried straight can dog food, that also worked for
a few days. She also was not acting like herself...not wanting to play
catch anymore, not jumping on the bed to sleep at night, occasionally going
to the bathroom in the house and acting very restless...I then noticed
that she started to lose weight which is when I took her to the vet.
She had lost 22 lbs since her last time at the vet, 6 months
prior. She had gone from 102 lbs to 80 lbs...I believe that most
of this weight was lost during that month of Dec. The vet started
with blood and urinalysis, thinking that she might have diabetes-which
turned out negative. Then we started working on why she was anemic...started
with the thought that it could have been from a tick or flea
disease since she had some white blood cells in her urine and
she had a fever...so we started her on Doxycycline...after 1 week
her red blood cell percentage had gone down again...so we ruled
out the flea or tick issue. We did chest and abdomen x-rays which
did not show anything abnormal either. Then my vet told me that
it is time for an ultrasound as he felt it could be a tumor in
the spleen or the liver.
Today we went to a specialist, one of the best on the East Coast, and
had an ultrasound done. Sydney has multiple tumors in her liver and her
spleen. If it was just the spleen, the spleen could be removed, but
since they have migrated to the liver, surgery is not an option. She is
extremely weak and very depressed. He said that she is suffering from
this, due to the anemia, she is having trouble breathing and also the
tumors are causing these organs to press up against her stomach.
After all of the research that I have done, it does not
seem that Chemo is an option either. It might prolong her life a month
or two but it will not be a quality life. I know that the tumors can rupture
and cause massive bleeding in the abdomen, which is very painful, as well
as fainting for her and that I cannot live with. So this week I will have
to say good bye to my best friend, or "My Precious" as I call
her, as she goes on to doggie heaven. Who knew that a trip to the local
Animal Shelter could turn out to be a 10 yr loving relationship.
Here is a picture of Sydney Roo in her prime...as I will always remember
her...
—Thanks
Gail
Johannes
UPDATE 01-11-08 —
I will feel honored to donate to this very good cause.
This is a picture of my sweet little boy, Johannes.
He was a mischievous little boy as you can see.
This past October 5, I made the right decision for him and let him go.
I was there with him when he drew his last breath and I know he is
waiting for me.
He had been diagnosed with a very aggressive
prostate cancer on October 2 in New Mexico, a town of about
80,000 people. I live in a very beautiful smaller town and the
vets around here did not know what was wrong with him. He had
previously been successfully treated for osteoarthritis in 2001
and had blown two lumbar discs in 2003. We treated these and he
was basically doing real well on aspirin, glucosamine/chondroitin
and occasionally a series of adequan shots. He was doing real
well until this past August when he all of a sudden he appeared
to lose the strength in his rear legs. I put him on R and R. He
seemed to take two steps backward and one step forward, but always at
the end of the week, he seemed a little weaker. I had brought
him to the local vets and even went for treatment to an acupuncturist.
We had had great results with that when we were treating him for his lumbar
problems. By mid September, he continued to regress with the occasional
good day. He was getting all of the above treatment. The acupuncturist
showed me how to do this and Johannes seemed to feel a little better after
this treatment.
By late September, he was getting worse so I
scheduled an appt. with a vet. The first thing she did was
give him his first ever rectal exam (much to his chagrin). She
told me he had a mass behind his rectum wall and her partner confirmed
this. She told me to schedule an appt. with a cancer specialist
in Tuscon. We drove over there on October 4, 2007. He had a good
set of radiographs done along with an aspirate of the mass and an ultrasound.
She told me he had no treatment options as the cancer had spread
to his liver and his lungs. I looked at the x rays and his whole little
body was
filled with tumors. I took him home that night and had already
made the best decision for Johannes. There was no way I was going to watch
him get progressively worse and the vet was surprised he was doing as well
as he was. The next morning we drove to the vet. He was having a good
morning. He had the cutest little way at dinner time or at the door
when we were going on a walk of barking so energetically that his
front feet would leave the ground. His last little walk from my car to
the vets door he was prancing along and feeling very good (he had been
on a regime of prednisone during his treatment). He had many of his
favorite treats and gobbled them up like he always did. (He never had
enough food)
I was able to be with him as the vet put him
to sleep with a powerful anesthetic. When he put the shot into his little
heart to stop it,he didn't flinch when the needle went in buy he had a
little reaction to the phenobarbital and I held him until he drifted off.
The vet says he sees this in some of the breeds and assured me he did not
feel any pain. I feel better knowing I did the right thing for him. I miss
him terribly. He was such a sweet boy. He has taught me so much about
love.
This has been a very difficult three months. I have two older Dachsies
at home, Gretta (16) and Ollie (14) and we all miss him. I am hoping that
by posting this tribute, and sharing this loss, it may help someone else
who is going through this. In my prayers at night I always ask the Higher
Power to make sure Johannes has a warm dry place to sleep and to help him
look up previous dogs I have had; Holly, Nanook and Emily. I also ask that
he be given a dog biscuit as a bedtime snack. I also thank him for the
eleven years and seven months he was given to me to love and be loved.
I sure miss him.
thank you
—Tim
Tyler
UPDATE 12-12-07 —
We lost out beloved son Tyler on December 12, 2007 to hemangiosarcoma. We believe he had the
disease for 2 years after having his spleen removed. He was not only courageous but refused to
indicate to us any pain he may have been enduring. We had no indication of the cancer until we
noticed blood in his left eye. Upon a scheduled visit with a canine ophthalmologist we were informed
that a subsequent chest x-ray showed the immense cancer throughout his body. He never showed any other
symptoms. 2 days after the diagnoses we had our close friend (and veterinarian) come to the house because
he was laboring in his breathing. She indicated that it was a miracle that he was still alive with the
amount of cancer the x-ray showed. He simply went to sleep after the shot was administered and never
showed any suffering. I will always remember him for his unconditional love for us. He was abandoned
with his sister 13 1/2 years ago in a box in the street in front of our house. We took them both in and
gave them the best life we could offer and in return they gave us more than anyone could ask for. I
cannot look at a sunset without him in my memory. His sister, Summer, is still with us and we all miss
him dearly. We loved our son very much and will never forget him.
Kyra
UPDATE 10-26-07 —
Hi, My dog Kyra has been diagnosed with osteosarcoma.
She is an 8 year old Rottweiler. She was diagnosed in December 2006 and underwent a
hemi-mandibilectomy. This involved the amputation of half her bottom jaw in January 2007.
She had 4 rounds of chemotherapy. Then her left eye started to look unusual and we brought her
to an ophthalmologist. To make a long story short, she had her eye removed and is now going
through another round of chemotherapy. Her chest xrays continue to be free of cancer and she is doing great.
You would never know that she has OS. She is awesome. We have great doctors for her and she is surrounded by
love and continues to flourish from all the attention. Here is a couple of pics....
I tried to make this a short story, sorry.....
All-A-Round LA Shadeauxman
born February 16th, 1993 — died November 26th,
2005
UPDATE 09-05-07 —
Shadeuxman you will forever be in my heart and on my mind.
Whatever I wanted you to do you were ready for it. We had so much fun running in the agility ring,
showing off in the obedience ring, me watching you herd sheep and jumping for the stars to catch a frisbee.
You and your brother Boomer were best buddies but you were my red dog heartbeat. You were always so active
and had a bright smile on your face. Your Dad and I watched cancer rob us of a wonderful dog that will never be forgotten.
For almost 13 years we loved you with all our hearts. I held you in my arms while cancer took you away.
You are now the brightest star in the sky and the wind chime that rings out in the big oak tree. I feel you waiting
around for your brother Boomer because the two of you did everything together. Wait for me too Shad My Man . . . . . . . . . I'll love you forever
— Mom
HONDO
UPDATE 07-20-07 —
HONDO is the best dog in the world! His ears, his tail, his beautiful eyes, his perfect calm spirit . . . I shall miss him so . . .
" i carry your heart with me, i carry it in my heart and i'm never without it.
anywhere i go, you go, my dear." — e.e.cummings
— Kristin
MAX ONIFFREY
UPDATE 06-29-07 —
My Boxer Max, was diagnosed with hemangiosarcoma last year (2006) on Memorial Day weekend,
after I came home to find him unable to get up, and unwilling to eat. They brought him into surgery
and found a small tumor on his spleen (which was cancerous). After removing his spleen,
the vet advised me of my options - 6 rounds of chemo ($250 each) or approx 2-3 months left with Max.
He also mentioned that even with the chemo, he'd probably only survive about 6 months. After a couple weeks
of talking to family and friends and a few people who had been through this, I decided to go ahead with the chemo.
I am happy to say that now, over a year later (and about $6000 in debt (surgery and chemo), Max seems to be doing very well,
and hasn't had any issues since. Is the cancer gone? I don't know, and it's hard to test for it, I was told.
But, I'm so glad I made the decision to go ahead with the chemo, and I would do it again in a minute. He is totally worth it!!!
— Christine
COPPER
UPDATE 6-28-07 — Tribute
for Copper
In the beginning of May, 2007 just days after receiving the referral
of our baby girl that we are adopting in China, we learned that
our sweet boy of nearly 13 years old had Fibrosarcoma cancer.
The tumor was above and around his left eye, and into his brain.
He had been exhibiting some signs of anxiousness over the past year, but
Copper had always been this type of dog. Our vet never suspected cancer.
Not until the day when we were in the vet's office and my husband was the
one to notice the small lump on his head. They xray'd and did a biopsy
and sure enough, we were left with the most devastating news. Our Copper
passed peacefully on June 26th, 2007.
My Copper, you are, were, and always will be my love, my light, my soul.
You have given me the tools I need to become a Mom to our baby Hannah from China.
I know you were given to us for this reason, and let me tell you my friend, you did one heck of a job.
I have never loved anything or anyone as hard as I did you. I hurt so badly right now, I feel empty and alone.
I miss you terribly, and am not sure how to breathe without you. I am scared, but I know that you are now happy and no longer in pain.
Knowing that I will find a way to go on. Know that I will love you forever and ever and I long for the day that I will be able to
kiss your nose and head again. My dear sweet angel, rest in peace, and live the life now that you so deserve to have. Until we meet again...................
— Colleen
FILLY
UPDATE 06-26-07 —
Thank you so much! Filly passed away last Monday after her second round
of chemotheraphy. We are all grieving at the lost of such a very
special companion. Thanks for your support and kindness.
— Linda
UPDATE 06-01-07 —
I found your site this morning as I was trying to learn more about
Canine Cancer. My twenty-nine year old disabled daughter, Angela,
received her Golden Retriever service dog a year ago from Assistance Dog
Institute in Santa Rosa, California. Two weeks ago she noticed that her
dog was not getting into her van as easily as before, and that her neck
seemed to be hurting her. She took Fillie to the vet and they
prescribed relaxant medication telling her that she probably strained her neck
playing with the other dogs.
In less than a week, she had a seizure and was screaming in pain.
We took her to emergency and then, when she was stable, up to the
institute vet. They thought she had meningitis and began ordering tests. The
outcome was stage 4 Lymphoma with cancer also in her spinal cord.
ADI is preforming all the tests and treatment free and housing my
daughter so that she can be with her dog and grief the ultimate lost.
They are providing her the support at this difficult time. For Angela,
her companion dog is her companion. It seems so cruel that a girl who
has suffered all her life with disability and pain would also have her
dog be taken from her by cancer.
Please continue to provide information to people dealing with
canine cancer. It helps, even just a little, to know that there are people
out there who care. Also if you can give me information how I can
support her through this lost, I would appreciate it. I just don't know what
to say to her.
Sincerely,
Linda Rodrigues
ANGEL
UPDATE 6-20-07 —
My Angel, a 7 year-old Lab mix, was diagnosed with cancer in January 2007.
She had a malignant thyroid tumor. She was given a "grave" prognosis, months to live.
Chemo was suggested, but I just could not see doing that to her, especially since the prognosis
was not any better with or without it. So I got busy, learning about alternative treatments
and consulted a holistic vet in New Orleans , Dr. Adriane Segrera, who prescribed a high-fat,
high-protein diet and a regime of supplements. I made other changes, like getting rid of all
chemicals in my home, cleaning now only with vinegar and water (and a touch of bleach for deep cleaning jobs), and holistic treats (fruit and veggies).
Today, 6 months later, Angel is doing great! A recent chest x-ray showed no metastasis. She is happy and healthy and doing very well.
Peace,
Patty Meehan
Sunset, Louisiana
PESTO
September 1, 1997 — May 17, 2007
In Memory of Pesto
We lost our beloved Aussie, "Pesto", after a brief but courageous battle with hemangiosarcoma.
Pesto was first diagnosed in April 2007, after she began showing symptoms of anemia and was occasionally,
and very uncharacteristically, off her food. We took her to her regular vet, and an ultrasound showed a
large tumor on her spleen. The vet wasn’t able to tell if it was malignant or not without the biopsy results,
but said it looked very suspicious and recommended a splenectomy. Pesto had never been sick a day in her life
and was an otherwise healthy, strong dog, so we decided to follow his advice and had her spleen removed with the
growth. While doing the surgery, the vet saw no signs of growths spreading to her other organs.
The biopsy results on the tumor showed definite presence of hemangiosarcoma.
The vet explained to us the likelihood of the cancer returning quickly,
and once this happens the end usually comes soon thereafter. He said it
was a good sign that they did not see obvious metastasizing at that point,
and that she might have many months to live. We decided not to pursue
chemotherapy after considering the suffering it would cause Pesto and the
very slim chances of it actually prolonging her life in a significant
manner. So, we brought her home to her mom, Sheila, and she recovered
very quickly from her surgery, returning to full activity without three
weeks. When I came home from college, she was back to playing vigorous
games of tug-of-war in the backyard with Sheila (their favorite game!)
and I took them on several walks in the days after I got home, down to
the beach and on long car-rides … all some of Pesto’s favorite things to
do. She was always in good spirits, especially when she got to be with
us, and even when she was sick I never saw her show even an ounce of bad
temperament. She was just a happy girl who loved life – one of my favorite
memories of her is how she would just run and run when we first let her
loose on the ocean beach, stretching her long legs and galloping in big
circles around us. What a beautiful animal.
Two days ago, I took Pesto and Sheila out for what turned out to
be our last afternoon walk, along a bluff overlooking the Puget Sound.
Pesto was doing so well; she even jumped up on a rock wall and walked along
it for a while, seemingly back to her usual silly self. That night, she
gobbled up dinner, and when we had company over for supper she was squirming
her way under our chairs, as usual keeping a close but nonchalant eye on
any scraps that might come her way … and she went out for the night with
a cookie, happy as always. But when my father got up in the morning and
went out to feed them breakfast, Pesto was just not right. She was lethargic,
weak, barely made it up to the door to greet her dad. He came and got us
and we all sort of knew that this was the end; she was so sick, and even
before her splenectomy she’d never looked this bad. Her gums were pure white
and her nose was so cold. She seemed to be really suffering, too, and it
was so awful to see our cheerful little girl in so much pain. We took her
right to the emergency vet, where they found that she was bleeding out in
her abdomen; apparently the cancer had already metastasized in the four
weeks since her surgery, and one of the growths had burst. We made the excruciating
decision to put her to sleep; it was so hard for all of us to let go of
our baby girl – she was born in our garage and I think that from her first
day, we became her "pack". We were the only family she ever knew. At 9 1/2
years young, she was still a puppy most of the time, always following one
of us around the house or yard with a toy stuffed in her mouth, or playing
tireless games of fetch. Even though we’d tried to prepare ourselves for
this day we knew was coming, it arrived so much sooner than any of us had
imagined it would: not even six weeks had passed since we’d found the growth
on her spleen. I know she didn’t want to leave us – I’ve never known a
more loyal dog, she was literally there without fail,
every time you turned around or called her name – but I hope she
understands that we had to let her go and that she will wait in peace until
we can be with her again.
Sheila misses her especially, I think; she had gotten so used to Pesto being her ears (Sheila is completely deaf now)
and also her closest companion. They groomed each other by the hour, and it was so cute the way they would fetch in tandem,
each picking up one end of their rope Kong and tugging it all the way down the lawn. Today, I tried to throw it for Sheila by
herself, and while she runs down the lawn to pick it up, when she gets there she just stands over it and looks around – waiting for
Pesto to sweep in and grab it away. Things won’t ever be the same around here without our silly little girl.
Pesto, we love you so much and miss you deeply … you wormed your
way into our house and hearts (and beds, usually, too!), and you’ve left
some mighty big holes, many of which will never be filled. You were God’s
blessing to us, and I think to me in particular – when I asked him for
a brown-eyed, blue merle girl, I never imagined I would really get one someday
– and one so perfect, at that. You were my dream come true, and I will
miss you forever.
I hope there are many squirrels up there for you to chase.
Love from your "pack",
— Sheila, Amanda, Mom, Dad, and Sophie.
DAKOTA
Yesterday May 11. 2007 we lost our favorite Big Dog
Dakota to Osteosarcoma of the jaw. Dakota was
diagnosed in August and we were told by many vets that
chemo would maybe buy him a few months.
We immedietly started Dakota on all kinds of herbs and
vitamins and healthy meals like veggie stew and
salmon - which he could never get enough of. We did do
chemo for a few months but were told it could start
messing up his heart if we kept going - so we stopped
chemo and focused on holisitc medicine. Dakota was
such a warrior - even with all the bleeding - which he
had plenty of - his spirit stayed strong and kept up a
fight to the end. I never met a dog like Dakota - he
truly was one of a kind. Such a handsome guy with so
much love in his heart and such a strong will to live.
Over the last few weeks I saw him really slow down and
the tumors growing in his mouth became so angry and I
just felt so helpless - but the big dog still had his
appetite until the end. Dakota
had friends all over the world - he made such an
impression on everybody he met - he will be truly missed.
— Amy
O’REILLY
O’Reilly Overall was diagnosed in April 2007, with Lymphoma.
She is currently at Stage V, with 95% involvement of bone marrow.
We currently have O’Reilly under the 25 week University of Wisconsin-Madison treatment,
augmented with vitamin therapy. The biggest concern is that there may not be
enough bone marrow to recover. The week of April 25 was good, O’Reilly is energetic
and happy. When we were given O’Reilly’s diagnosis, we were shocked. Though she is a
pound pup, she has always been strong, happy and a great friend to family and friends
(a couple of mail carriers may take exception to that statement). The family continues to
pray for her comfort and happiness.
Best regards,
— Curtis B. Overall
CASEY
October 5, 1996 — March 5, 2007
In memory of my Beloved
Aussie Casey:
I lost my beloved friend Casey to a tumor in his stomach, it took
only a month to lose him, before I knew it he was a very sick boy, I had
no idea he was so sick until it was too late.
He started all of the sudden vomiting and not eating, I took him
to the vet, the vet ran every test we could think of, every test
came back normal. Then Casey started to eat again, not a lot, but
he was eating, and keeping it down.
He never stopped being the active Casey he was, even at 10 1/2 years
old, he loved to play all the time.
Then about a week before he died, he started vomiting again, the
vet gave him stronger medicine to see if he would respond as well
as he did the first time, this was on a Friday, I tried all weekend
long to get him to eat.
He just became weaker and weaker, all he wanted to do was lay on
my garage floor.
It took everything he had to go out and feed my horses with me, that
was his favorite thing to do, was feed the horses and watch the ducks,
chase birds, and have fun.
On Monday March 5th, I didnt even call the vet, I took him right down
to the clinic, I gave Casey a hug, and the vet said he needs to do
exploratory surgery on him.
I got a call 3 hours later with terrible news, the vet found a tumor in
his stomach, there was nothing he could do for him.
After he sewed Casey up, Casey stopped breathing, his body had enough.
I lost my beloved friend that day, during this month-long process
of him being sick, never did I ever think it was cancer.
I tried everything to save my friend, he was everything to me.
I am so thankful the morning before I took him to the vet, I got on the
floor with him and told him whatever happens today, never forget how
much I love him, I know he knew what I was saying, he nudged me with his
nose.
I am so thankful for that moment, because when I dropped him off at the
clinic, I thought I was going to get to see him again, so I did not
have that final goodbye, he died on the operating table.
Casey and I had a bond that was very special, he did everything with
me, he waited for me after we fed my horses in the morning to get my cup
of coffee, he followed me into my office and sat with me on the couch.
The house is so lonely without him, I am in shock that my friend died
of cancer, he was so healthy besides that tumor, life is not fair, he
was taken from me too early.
I am so sorry Casey that I could not save you, I tried so hard, it
broke my heart to see you so sick, and there was nothing I could do for you
to make you better.
Casey and I had 10 1/2 wonderful year together, he took care of me and
was always there for me with unconditional love, I will never forget my
beloved friend.
Rest in peace Casey boy, we will see each other again, I hope you are
watching over me.
— Luv, your momma
Y Z
UPDATE 8-12-07 —
hello all. I found the group back in April, after my Australian Cattle Dog, Y Z, was
diagnosed with Hemangiosarcoma following an emergency Spleenectomy. Pam was kind enough to return my e-mails,
and offer gentle words of hope and camaraderie.
I have "lurked" about, reading oh-so-many posts . . . some enlightening,
many heartbreaking, but I found safety and solace in the knowledge
Y Z and I where not alone.
I decided to go the holistic route, with acupuncture. We had a beautiful 3 good months!
Y Z and I even managed to join the local "Share-A-Pet" chapter. Unfortunately,
we where never able to attend any hospital/nursing home visits, because Y Z had some crummy days in between the good days.
Then, the second week of July, we began to have problems again.
He had a blood transfusion, and after 3 days, was feeling fine &
frisky again. A follow-up ultrasound revealed that the cancer had metastasized to his liver,
and he had a bleed into his abdomen at the time. The doctor predicted we had 2-4 weeks left to be together.
So it was forbidden days on the beach, lots of people food and cake
and Baskin-Robbins! It was a time of no-more meds, new GOOD drugs
(pain medications) and one more blood transfusion, just to &pep& him
up due to his anemia. It was trips to the dog park and a (short)
camping trip to the Everglades. (which we did frequently before
he was sick).
August 9, 2007. The Florida morning dawned bright and lovely,
and YZ had a nice day. A little lethargic, but we had gotten used to that.
The new Zubrin seemed to be providing much better pain control than the
Rimadyl and didn't knock him out like the Torbutrol. He made sure that
his arch-enemy, the vacuum, did not damage any of our property or harm
me that morning as I cleaned the house. He swam in the lake, and layed
in the glorious morning sunshine. He even had enough pep to herd the resident
ducks in the yard.
That evening, my boyfriend and I watched the movie "300". It was
midnight, and he got up to walk the dogs one last time before bed.
Y Z had been sleeping in his orthopedic doggie bed by the television.
The next thing I know, Jan is screaming for me from outside the house. Y Z
had collapsed! I scooped him up and rushed him inside, where I proceeded to
make him comfy.
He was in severe respiratory distress, and I knew that
that night was the night my best friend, my working companion,
my fuzzy-bucket, my sun, my greatest friend was going to leave me.
I made him comfortable upstairs, gave him the Morphine my vet (and best friend)
had given me to give him at this exact time, and slept with him on the floor of our bedroom.
At 5 a.m., everything happened so quickly! Y Z began to pant, and
I saw fear in his eyes. I knew it was time. We rushed him to the
emergency clinic by my house, but he was unresponsive by the time
we got there. He was still breathing . . . but the wonderful soul
within him was gone. I had a rather unpleasent experience at the
clinic which I will refrain from reliving here. Let's just say
I missed his last breath because the vet (who did not know me)
would not listen to me. (remember,I have been working in the animal
care field in this town for 11 years, and delivery blood products to ALL
the hospitals in the tri-county area).
After we left the clinic, my boyfriend and I where in shock. I was at peace,
knowing that Y Z's battle was over. Jan, on the other hand, was besides himself with
grief. He never had a pet before he met me, and this was the first animal he had ever
lost. He openly admitted he denied everything when I told him the severity of the
situation Y Z was in the first day his diagnosis was made.
We sat outside, in lawn chairs, on our lake, and watched the sun
rise below a sharp, crescent moon. It was a translucent sunrise, and it
helped give me much closure. For I had believed in my heart of hearts that
Y Z would pass before tonight's meteor shower, that he would simply just
ride thru the stars and leave the bindings of his doggie body.
Now my life has taken on a different pace. It truly feels as if I had a
whole punched into my body, and it is now vacant. I have been in a lost
state of mind these past 2 days, but I was prepared. As a vet tech, I have
aided thousands of animals, and their families, in difficult times. I know
all the ins and outs of grief. But it doesn't make this time any easier. If
anything, I feel worse, because I can analyse myself!
I wanted to thank each and every one of you for sharing
your stories, and allowing others to share your grief and smiles.
Every dog is special, and each is an individual. My greatest sorrow
lies not in the selfish fact my dog is not by my side . . . but
it lies in the fact I will never know that personality again.
Thank you all again. My thoughts are with each and everyone of you.
You are all the most wonderful of people. It is a shame I have "met" you
through such distressing circumstances. All of you are wonderful people that
I would delight in meeting in real life.
— Roxanne (and Y Z)
My dog Y Z, and his battle
with hemangiosarcoma:
We are allotted only a handful of true soul mates in our lifetime.
Y Z is mine. He is still alive, and recovering well from his emergency spleenectomy on Sunday,
April 1. It was no joke! I'm a veterinary technician, and his veterinarian, Dr. Sharon Glass,
has not only been my employer, but my greatest friend as well.
After a two month roller-coaster ride, with many radiographs, 3 ultrasounds, and
4 nights of hospitalization (at Dr. Glass' clinic and the local E.R. for Pets),
all we knew was that Y Z had free fluid in his abdomen.
He sailed through surgery like a champ, and now he's feeling 100%
better! If he had it his way, he'd be herding the ducks on our
lake and playing ball; but the doc made it quite clear that he is not to
be active for 2 weeks.
Just found out today the results of the pathology — hemangiosarcoma.
I am not going to pursue chemotherapy; rather, we are going to go the Holistic route.
We have an appointment for Therapy Dog certification next week, which was arranged
prior to his illness. Doc says he's fine to go! Maybe we'll go to cancer wards and
retirement homes and give people hope and a smile!
Y Z is 10 years old. He's my soul-mate, and we are going to enjoy
every day as fully as we can!
— Roxanne
KASHA & TAZ
KASHA
March 2, 1994 — August 15, 2005
TAZ passed on June 15, 2007
My Rottweiler Kasha
Osteosarcoma of the Jaw
My female Rottweiler, Kasha, was born March 2, 1994.
During her life, Kasha had to deal with a couple orthopedic issues.
At two years of age, Kasha had TPLO of her left knee and then much later at nine years of age,
a standard ruptured cruciate ligament repair of her right knee, with significant
arthritis in her joints and spine, even though you'd never know it.
She was on Rimadyl in her last two years and Soloxine for low thyroid in her last year.
At just over 11 years old, she was diagnosed with osteosarcoma of her jaw on June 15, 2005.
Despite several courses of antibiotics for secondary infection in her jaw as well as a chronic
bladder infection, the gangrene in her jaw progressed, as did the tumor's size. The smell of
what was essentially rotting flesh was at times, overwhelming. Within days after her diagnosis
the tumor began to ooze blood, and for several more weeks, the bloody drool was constant. I
would wipe her muzzle each time she ate or drank (or got to smelling something outside that
made her mouth water), and clean her face each time she ate, and every day the floors and doggie
water bed where she had been laying.
I fed her kibble that had been softened in water, broth and Body
Balance, eventually adding canned Pedigree Select Cuts. She stumbled
a couple of times in July, and both times came down on her chin,
causing profuse bleeding from her mouth, presumably from biting
down on the tumor when she fell. By the beginning of August she
was eating reluctantly at times, but at least eating. However by
August 12, 2005, I had to spoon feed her because she couldn't eat
out of her bowl and even then she wouldn't eat a whole meal. I
had made the decision on August 5th to have her euthanized in my home, and
eventually scheduled the appointment for August 15, 2005.
In the final couple of weeks of her life, her eyes, so full of intelligence and love in years
past, began to show her fatigue and pain. In a matter of mere days, the cancer moved into her
upper left jaw, cheek and eye socket, making her face look sunken and drawn on one side. I
tried to get my vet to my home sooner than the 15th but it was not possible.
With the Secret Garden CD "Once in a Red Moon" playing, sage and pinon burning, shades drawn and
candles lighting my living room, the vet administered a sedative. It took bare moments for Kasha
to lay down on the pallet of towels and a sheet I had put on the floor for her, and I laid down
beside her, snuggled up to her back, spooning with my arm around her. After several minutes of
stroking her soft fur, crying my eyes out but speaking quietly and lovingly to her, the vet
injected the final solution in a hind leg. It normally takes a few minutes from there as
opposed to a front leg vein, but before the injection was even finished, Kasha had left us.
She had been so very, very tired; very ready to go, and showed it by how quickly her spirit abandoned her ailing body.
On April 12, 2007, Taz was diagnosed with non-regenerating anemia, most likely caused by
hemangiosarcoma. He has a walnut-sized tumor on his spleen, and black, tarry stools, indicating
blood loss through his intestines. He is easily tired and his appetite is spotty, with bouts of
vomiting every couple of weeks. The vet has given him up to several months, if he doesn't crash
from the anemia or a metastasis. Due to his age and anemia, he is not a good candidate for
aggressive treatment, but we have put him on prednisone, sucralfate and PetTabs vitamins to
attempt some symptomatic relief and reduce his bleeds.
I have been blessed with two great dogs in my life who both have lived long, happy lives. If
Taz needs help leaving his failing body, I'll be there. In the meantime, he gets all the red
meat he wants, room on my bed and lots of love.
— Rachelle Whitley
Durango, CO
Update 6-16-2007 —
Taz went down hill very quickly after his diagnosis on April 12, 2007, of hemangiosarcoma.
It became very clearly in the last 3 weeks that he was becoming more limited in activity and
just trudging through his days. I made the decision a couple of weeks ago to have him put
to sleep yesterday (June 15, 2007), exactly 2 months shy of 2 years from his "big sister’s" death on August 15, 2005.
With Kasha, the decision was so easy to make, but with Taz, not so much. Still, I knew he was just not enjoying life anymore,
and the most basic of activities, from eating to elimination, were a struggle. He was very weak, didn’t want to go up or down
the 3 steps to get outside, and often just plunked right down on the ground instead of getting out there and pottying.
I took him to the vet yesterday – Becky James at Aspentree Vet Clinic – who has cared for both my dogs for several years.
She is absolutely the kindest, gentlest of people and was right there with me, giving Taz his last hugs, kisses and belly scratches.
After examining him, she told me that his spleen had enlarged significantly since her April exam and that the splenic tumor was
at least 3 times the size it had been and completely palpable on his spleen. Though I still had a little voice wondering
if I was making the right decision, she and I agreed it was time to help him pass. The future potential was for a major hemorrhage
to occur at a time when I was not around and he would end up having a painful, possibly extended, and lonely passing, and that it
could be weeks more of further degeneration of his condition. As Becky hovered with that damned needle of pink fluid, I only
thought about it another moment and nodded. Taz had already been sedated at that point, so it was just a matter of feeling his
chest stop moving. Just as with Kasha, I laid on the floor beside him, spooning around his back with my face buried in his neck.
Once he was gone, I grabbed another tissue and wiped my tears from his fur. His ashes will join Kasha’s in an urn I bought for the
both of them. I don’t know if I’ll get another dog any time soon. Kasha and Taz were my first, and they may have been my last.
— Rachelle
JEWEL
For Kathy, Ellie, & Marla — In memory of Jewel.
— Shannon
BUCK
November 1998 — March 26, 2007
Buck was diagnosed with a nondifferentiated carcinoma in his mouth on 11/1/2004.
He was treated with radiation for the tumor and it quickly vanished.
However, 4 months later, a new tumor surfaced. That too was defeated, this time through surgery.
New tumors kept appearing about 90 days after the last one was defeated. In March of last year,
a particularly stubborn tumor appeared on the outside of his gum that did not respond to radiation.
We were able to manage its growth for quite some time with chemo. But the tumor eventually spread
across the roof of his mouth and began to interfere with his eating, drinking and breathing.
I had to send him to the Rainbow Bridge today, March 26, 2007, 876 days after his first diagnosis.
Throughout the whole ordeal, he kept his spirit and playfulness. His tail kept wagging, and his eyes
always shone brightly, until catracts, the result of radiation treatment near his eyes, dimmed his sight
in June of last year. Buck adjusted well to having limited vision, and I learned how to guide him along
so he did not need to be on a leash during our walks so he could maintain his sense of pride and independence.
He developed diabetes on New Years Day of this year as his organs began to slowly fail. He and I were
able to manage his diabetes pretty well after we got used to it. But he began losing weight in large
chunks, sometime 3 lbs a week, until he had lost 25 lbs overall. He was able to lose some of the
weight without a problem, as I fed him well during his battle. On March 22, he slipped on some ice
and injured his left hind leg, and that seemed to be the last straw for him. He was not the same after
that, and the tumor in his mouth grew quickly over the next couple days. It seemed as though he had lost
his will to fight the cancer, and the cancer took advantage of this weakness. Buck taught me the true
meaning of courage, as he refused to ever show how poorly he must have felt after his treatments.
Buck just turned 8 in November, and was a fighter right up until his last day. The fight ran out of
him last night and he let me know he was ready. He had an incredible will to live and an indomitable spirit.
He touched many lives in his time, and will be missed by many, many people.
He will forever be in my heart, and never out of my thoughts.
— Frank
"No matter how deep my sleep, I shall hear you and not all the power of death can keep my spirit from wagging a grateful tail."
— Eugene O'Neill
ZEUS
December 1996 — March 2007
On February 5, 2007 we brought our beloved 10 year old German Shepherd,
Zeus, to the doctor convinced he was suffering from an upset stomach.
During an ultrasound, a very large mass was found on his spleen. We were
given the grim diagnoses of Hemangiosarcoma. We were told we could
operate on him or put him "to sleep" .
We chose to have his spleen removed. During the surgery more cancer was
found on his abdominal wall, his liver, his lungs, his heart and his
prostate. We got a phone call from the operating room asking if we wanted
to continue - since he wasn’t being given much of a chance. We
continued. I wanted to get my dog home, I didn’t want the last faces he
remembered seeing being that of the operating room staff. He stayed in the
hospital for 5 days. This hospital was three hours away from our home but
I drove back and forth every single day, so I could sit and visit with
my baby everyday. When we got him home - you could tell how happy he
was. We spoiled him, relished in his love, and poured love onto him every
single day. We tried chemotherapy, I gave him natural herbs, I tried
anything to prolong his time with us.
During his whole life, my dog protected me with such fearless devotion.
He loved me with every ounce of his soul. He followed me every step
that I took. He stayed by me while I was sick, he appreciated every bit of
attention I gave to him. He was overjoyed to see me when I returned from
being out. He went with me to work, he swam with the kids in the lake,
went camping with us, knew the right "look" to give to receive a treat.
He knew when you needed him to place his head on your lap when you were
upset. When he saw you take his leash out he would become so overjoyed,
that it almost became impossible to put it on him. He watched over us,
"his" family, with such a soulful, protective, loving eye. We were the
joy of his life, and he in ours.
On March 26, 2007, after a month and a half battle with
Hemangiosarcoma, I lost my beloved angel. I buried a piece of my heart with him that
will remain broken forever.
And as my tears continue to flow, I know in my soul, I am a better
person, I am more enriched . . . simply because I had the love of my Zeus. As
long a period of time he was in my life, I will still always wish for just
one more day.
I know you are waiting for me Zeus, and I will be there with you one
day - I will eagerly open my arms as you race towards me . . . until then, I
will hold you in my heart.
Goodnight, my love.
— Melissa
BREEZE
Breeze is a 5 year old Irish Wolfhound who was diagnosed with osteosarcoma Dec. 29, 2006.
She had her left front leg amputated January 3, 2007. She is doing wonderful.
She's a happy girl who is almost through her chemotherapy. She runs around the house, goes up and down the stairs with ease.
She is a fighter!! and my love
— andie
TINA
March 7, 1997 — February 12, 2007
Last month, my beloved, 9 years 11 months old black Pug, Tina,
started to cough continuously during the night. Thinking it was
just a cold, I tool her to the vet the next day where I was referred
to a specialty hospital here in Puerto Rico. I took her there and
to make the long and devastating story short, after being hospitalized
for 2 weeks, she was diagnosed with lung cancer. The veterinarian
operated on her and removed all of the masses and found out that
she had cancer in her ovaries and from there, passed to the lung.
She had a hard time in her operation and she was even given Epinephrine
because she "died" and
came back. Her desire to live was amazing and Tina was back home
after 4 days. We took so good care of her and even though she had
37 stitches from her belly up to her chest, she never lost her
spirit. Last Monday, (February 5, 2007) she started her first chemotherapy.
She was very happy until Saturday afternoon when she had a relapse
and started having trouble breathing. That night, I started researching
the internet looking for information on what I could do or expect.
I found your site which has been a Godsend. Tina got worse and
on Sunday morning, she slept with me in my arms for 3 hours. She
was lethargic and breathing heavily, cold, feverish and she was
shivering. I knew her time had come. I only prayed to God not to
let her die with the stitches on. She held until yesterday, (Monday).
My sister took her to the clinic for her second chemotherapy, but
she was already too weak and hadn't slept during the weekend. She
just sat looking at me all the time, and I didn't know what to
do. The veterinarian told me she did some X-Rays and put her in
the cage and she went to check on her a couple of times and she "sleeping,"
but when she noticed she did not move in a while, she knew Tina was
gone. I received the devastating call and went to see her with my
two daughters and my sister. To our surprise, Tina was facing backwards
and died in her favorite sleeping position. With her right paw under
her chin. She suffered a lot this past weekend; and her loss is as
if your heart is being ripped off your chest. But I thank God she
didn't die with her stitches on and I didn't have to put her to sleep.
She held on to die at the clinic for she didn't want to die at home.
When I smelled her, she smelled like flowers; like heaven . . . .
. it was unbelievable . . . as if God had kissed all over when he
took her . . . . . .
I thank Canine Cancer Awareness, because I have learned
so much during this weekend from your site. I didn't know female dogs
had to be spayed. Ironically, I have three more female dogs (strays)
which are spayed and the love of my life which was Tina, I never
did it on her. Thank you so much for your site; I just bought some
stuff from your store and I hope to become a monthly donator. Through
your Faces of Courage, I have learned that I was not alone; neither
did I know that so many dogs suffered from this terrible disease. I hope
that you keep up the good work. In the meantime, I am planning on sending
a picture of my beloved Tina to you with a short story on her, and I hope,
in time, you post it and I'm also picking up a new black Pug tomorrow. It
will never fill the space Tina left, but I'm sure she will help us to
heal.
Tina March 7, 1997 — February 12, 2007 : Our beloved Pug. She never even
opened her mouth to bark. Humble, loving, happy and caring. I did the best I could for you and
I am sure you are resting happily now and that we will see you soon in doggie heaven.
Thanks,
— Velmarie
Puerto Rico
LOBO
2003 — February 14, 2007
Our beloved LOBO, diagnosed with Hemangiosarcoma, gone from our lives, February 14, 2007.
Oh me, not only do my husband and I miss our beautiful Siberian,
150 lbs., best friend. Yes, 150 lbs., but he was the most gentle, kind soul you would ever met.
He was a quiet gent, and only howled instead of barking when he would see you as if to say, HELLO.
He would climb on the bed at nite and cuddle like a baby by my husband's feet. Yes, he took up a
big portion of the bed, because we have his sister, 85 pound Gypsy too and Sadie an Austrian Shepard
and Thunder (German Shepard) both rescue doggies. They were all best buds and played and slept and
ate together. They had the best time. It was so fun to watch them run thru the yard and we would walk
around the yard together as our daily, Walk . . .
He loved his walk, because he got a back rub afterwards
. . . We thought he came down with a cold from us, so we let it
pass, then all of a sudden he started walking with a limp on his back leg,
we thought ok, he is only 4 yrs. old, maybe he has early arthritis or joint
problems, we doctored him, then within a week, he seemed to get weaker and
you could see him breathing harder and harder as if he could not catch his
breathe. But he could not longer just step upon the bed which is easy for
his size. He would lay in the floor and just look at us. We decided ok,
it is time to go see the doctor. You see, he was just there in June, 2006
for his physical and all was fine . . .
But, this time, all was NOT fine. We took him in
and first the doctor thought tick disease, we knew better, he
is not around that surroundings. Then maybe poisoned . . . Oh no!!
BUT it was worse, he had Hemangiosarcoma (cancer) spleen, kidneys possibly
heart and all over. We can do surgery but life expectancy is not that good
. . . We cried that nite, Lobo stayed overnite the vet wanted to watch over
him to see what else might be going on. He comforted him with pain
meds. The next day, after extensive research and crying both of us all nite
. . .
We had to put him down. Our hearts broke,
his companions are now crying at night for they miss their buddy and they roam over the back yard looking for Lobo.
We cannot find him, they all look at me with such sad eyes as if to say where is LOBO, mom??
When I drive to the store and come back they are excited, and then saddened to find LOBO is once again not
with me. Lobo, was better then any human friend could possibly be, for he did love you
unconditionally and greeted you as if to say, I LOVE YOU for taking care of me.
Lobo, will be forever missed and always in our hearts. We are told all in time it will get easier.
Yes, we understand, but our hearts still hurt for our BEST FRIEND, our little guy, LOBO. We love you and miss you.
— Daddy and MOM, (your sibling sister Gypsy) and other companions, Sadie Belle and Thunder too . . .
SKAGIT
1993 — 2007
Skagit was the product of a midnight rendezvous between our two adult dogs
in the back of a Honda Civic. He spent the first 4 months of his life
traveling around the Pacific Northwest in the back of a Toyota pickup with
his mom, dad, and seven siblings. Not a bad introduction to the world!
Of the two pups we kept, Skagit definitely was my dog. The others could run
like mad, fetch tennis balls, and catch all the Frisbees in the world;
Skagit and I would hang out with a cool drink and watch the action.
Not that he was a total couch potato. He loved long walks on the beach and
hikes in the mountains. But his first calling was to be my buddy. He saw
me through extended periods of living alone and, eventually, a divorce.
He was a faithful and constant companion and his steady presence helped me
through many rough and lonely times.
In the fall of 2004 Skagit was diagnosed with a nasal carcinoma.
Ironically, I had run into my ex at the vet's office and he told me Skagit's dad
had died the previous year of the same disease. That prompted me to get
the bump on his nose checked out.
We are fortunate to live near Portland Veterinary Oncology Center, one
of only 50 such treatment centers in the country. Skagit went though a
round of radiation therapy, which was expected to buy him a year. He lasted
over two.
During the last few months of his life he slowed down considerably, and
his vets felt he probably had developed lymphoma. Given his age and
already-compromised health, we opted to forgo radical treatments and
just keep him comfortable. In the last couple of weeks the tumor in his
nose began to compromise his breathing, and we knew it was near his time.
Today we hung around the house together, being close. This afternoon
we drove to a local park so Skagit could lie in the grass under the warm
sun and see the river. From there we went to the vet where he received a
shot and slipped quietly away.
There is a huge hole in our lives now, which we are trying desperately
to fill with memories. But it just isn't the same as a warm furry guy
with droopy eyes and drool landing on your knee . . .
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