Cujo. Wessels. Twinkie. Boo. Bubba. Munchkin. Tweedledee. Pudgie. Chubbs. Wes.
Wesley.
Our 9 yr, 11 mo. old Corgi. We've given him many nicknames. But no matter what we call him, he still gives us that beautiful Corgi smile - "What's up? What do you want me to do for you?". All dogs give us their full love in such a short amount of time. They don't know time - but we do. And today it hit me how short it can be.
Sunday I took Wesley to Nate's Point, a dog park in San Diego's Balboa Park, for a romp with the Corgis and their humans. It had been years since he frolicked there due to his pre-existing condition of AIHA (Auto Immune Hemolytic Anemia). Probably 40 furbabies were there, chasing, running, herding. Wes played a little, but was far more interested in walking from human to human to get petted. Such an attention whore!
But, that night, I noticed some lumps near his groin. And a redness. Not a rash. Just redness. Monday, I called the vet and made an appointment for today.
We went in, me hoping that they were nothing more than fat deposits and an allergy. I wish. Our Vet sent us to VCA, a Veterinary Specialty Hospital where Wes has gone for his AIHA. He now had lumps on all his lymph nodes, as well as in other odd places. The redness is more pronounced and has spread.
I have a day of waiting for the diagnostics - ultrasound, x-ray, blood panels - to determine if in fact it really is lymphoma (hey, I can hope!) and if anything else is going on. Bottom line, he'll get chemo...if he can handle it, and if it will continue his quality of life.
Interestingly, there is a philosophical difference in treating dog vs. human cancer. Human cancer - we go for the cure. Kill those f'ing demon cells. In the process, humans suffer through unimaginable side-effects. But it works. Sometimes.
With dogs (other animals), we go for time. Make them comfortable for as long as we can. Avoid the side effects that diminish their life. Never actually cure them, but extend their life and let them age gracefully.
So. I wait. Knowing Wes is in good hands. And probably enjoying the attention so much that he doesn't care about the tests. When I bring him home, he will be his happy self - herding the other dogs, making sure they remember that he is still in charge, and joyfully barking at the world "It's me! I'm home!".
I, on the other hand, will do all I can to hide my fear, my dread, my tears. And hope that he doesn't sense my worry.
Live in the moment. Dogs do. We should try.
Wesley.
Our 9 yr, 11 mo. old Corgi. We've given him many nicknames. But no matter what we call him, he still gives us that beautiful Corgi smile - "What's up? What do you want me to do for you?". All dogs give us their full love in such a short amount of time. They don't know time - but we do. And today it hit me how short it can be.
Sunday I took Wesley to Nate's Point, a dog park in San Diego's Balboa Park, for a romp with the Corgis and their humans. It had been years since he frolicked there due to his pre-existing condition of AIHA (Auto Immune Hemolytic Anemia). Probably 40 furbabies were there, chasing, running, herding. Wes played a little, but was far more interested in walking from human to human to get petted. Such an attention whore!
But, that night, I noticed some lumps near his groin. And a redness. Not a rash. Just redness. Monday, I called the vet and made an appointment for today.
We went in, me hoping that they were nothing more than fat deposits and an allergy. I wish. Our Vet sent us to VCA, a Veterinary Specialty Hospital where Wes has gone for his AIHA. He now had lumps on all his lymph nodes, as well as in other odd places. The redness is more pronounced and has spread.
I have a day of waiting for the diagnostics - ultrasound, x-ray, blood panels - to determine if in fact it really is lymphoma (hey, I can hope!) and if anything else is going on. Bottom line, he'll get chemo...if he can handle it, and if it will continue his quality of life.
Interestingly, there is a philosophical difference in treating dog vs. human cancer. Human cancer - we go for the cure. Kill those f'ing demon cells. In the process, humans suffer through unimaginable side-effects. But it works. Sometimes.
With dogs (other animals), we go for time. Make them comfortable for as long as we can. Avoid the side effects that diminish their life. Never actually cure them, but extend their life and let them age gracefully.
So. I wait. Knowing Wes is in good hands. And probably enjoying the attention so much that he doesn't care about the tests. When I bring him home, he will be his happy self - herding the other dogs, making sure they remember that he is still in charge, and joyfully barking at the world "It's me! I'm home!".
I, on the other hand, will do all I can to hide my fear, my dread, my tears. And hope that he doesn't sense my worry.
Live in the moment. Dogs do. We should try.
