Her Name is Lumpy...

Arrow went to the vet yesterday and the latest news is that she is likely OK. The vet aspirated the lump on her leg and Sally asked her to check the one above her eyebrow for good measure. The bump on her head looks cystic, but we had the cells sent to a pathologist just to make sure. Turns out Arrow is just going to keep getting lumpy which makes are "cancer lookout" just that much more challenging.

Reality Check

Its so easy to get caught up in the day to day stuff. Arrow has been healing well, is frisky like a puppy and we sometimes almost forget that she had cancer. And that she is approaching 11 years old. We are back to normal, not thinking too much about the trials of the last two months. Catching a glimpse of the side of her arm and seeing the bald spot reminds us that she is still healing.

Last night, Sally noticed a small pea size lump on Arrow's back leg. It's doesn't really have too much hair on it and it doesn't look good. It seems to bother her a little bit. It's not a lipoma and it's not a lump under her skin. It almost looks like a wart. It's in a whole different part of her body so we're not so much concerned that the myxosarcoma is back, but we're afraid she has a second type of tumor.

We are definitely hypervigilant about her body. It could be something that has been on her leg the whole time. It could be a bump the oncologists have already mapped. We will call them tomorrow and our own vet to have it examined. Keep your fingers crossed (and paws!)

Arrow Gives a Shout Out

Wow - its been a long time since I've written about our little champ. We had a nice thanksgiving and I was able to reflect upon how lucky Sally and I are to have her with us. We've been through a lot together and she has pulled us through even more than we helped her pull through. She is really doing great. She is running, jumping, barking at house guests (she had kind of stopped doing that for several weeks during her treatment).

Arrow's friend Rocky was diagnosed with cancer this week. They are still waiting on the results of the biopsy, but we're all keeping our fingers (and paws) crossed that Rocky's cancer is gone and he won't need any further treatment. Arrow gives a shout out to Rocky -- she wants to let him know that he is going to be OK because she knows how great Loren and Jon are and how much they will help him. Oh - and she says the lampshade sucks, but you get used to it!

From both Arrow and Rocky, here are some tips about doggie tumors. All lumps should be check out, but if the lump loses its hair, then you need to get that checked out right away. If it turns pink or black and loses its hair - that's not so good either. Get it checked. And if it's mucousy on the outside, that's a soft tissue tumorand needs to be removed. Most of all, a dog after surgery needs a lot of TLC. And peanut butter will help them regain any weight lost during the process!

She is So Back!

Arrow is doing incredibly well. Today we went for our first real hike since her treatment started. We climbed up to Mount Sugarloaf and she was out in front the whole time. She was running, hunting chipmunks, jumping up for a stick, wanting us to chase her. She was running so fast, she looked like a puppy. She's losing more hair (which seems odd), but really, she is back and ready to take on new challenges.

I think we may have created a small medicine monster. She is still on one of her medications which is an antiinflamatory. Take a look at these picutres to see how much she LOVES her nightly treat.

You can sort of see her scars in these pictures. They mostly look better, but she has one spot about the size of a nickel that she keeps picking at so it won't quite heal. But its almost 100%--except for the hair, she's going to be a bit bald for a while. But that's OK, bald is in. Isn't it kind of metrosexual? She lives in Hadley, and she doesn't like cities so there is really nothing "metro" about her. But we'll pretend she is "hip" and has a whole new doggie hair trend going on. She looks fabulous!

We've Got a Container Full of Rusty Nails for Sally!

In case you didn't read Sally's comment on the last blog entry, I suggest taking a peak at it so this title will make sense. She is a funny one that Sally! While she is chewing on rusty nails -- which someone in the family should do to ensure the delicate flowers in the family don't have to-- Arrow and I continue to support each other through our very eventful days.

We had a very nice weekend on the Cape this past weekend. I think it was a really good thing for us to go there. Arrow loves her pond and feels so energized by walking around and checking out the territory. She gets to say hi to the ducks, look for food outside Link and Marge's house, and hunt for rocks in the water. It was a bit cold so we didn't spend a lot of time outside nor did we get to the beach, but she ran around the pond. She is 100% better (for both moms) and shows each of us just how incredible she is.

She got to bring her friend Buttons to the Cape. There was one little incident where Buttons assumed she was doing a little bit better than Arrow was actually willing to admit. Arrow had a stick in her mouth and Button charged her trying to take it form her. Arrow yelped (I don't think she actually got hurt by Buttons, but definitely got scared) and when Buttons came running back at her with a little growl, the "rusty nail" Arrow had enough and bared her teeth, snapped, and chased Buttons. We actually had to call her off at which point she ran up to both Sally and I as if to say, "She scared me, I think I might be hurt. Do I look OK? Am I bleeding?" She actually was bleeding a little because her little scar had cracked (no fault of Buttons, her skin is just so dry). But she is no worse for the wear. Today she was even quicker on her feet, leading us down to the river with her head held high and prancing away as if she were auditioning to be one of Santa's reindeer!

We are in search of a little doggie sweater for her to keep her side warm and protected from the sun. Any fashion tips are appreciated!

Miss Merry Sunshine

I can turn my attitude around just like anyone else can. Sally may think I'm Debbie Downer, however, I like to think of myself as the realist. Other words for it include, pragmatist, worrier, thinker, and anxious wreck.

Our visit to Tufts yesterday went very well. Arrow is doing much better, and although she still has to wear the funny outfits when we are not at home, she is pretty much cleared for all other activities. They think her limp is still there because of the healing skin. When they palpated the area, it did not seem to cause her any pain so it doesn't appear to be soreness from the actual muscle. Once she gets moving, she mostly loosens up and she is running more and more.

Here's a funny story. Yesterday, we were getting ready to drive out to Worcester for our vet visit. I was getting Arrow into the car while Sally was in the house doing her last minute puttering. Arrow stared at the backseat, wiggled her butt a little, and contemplated jumping up onto the seat. I could tell she was aprehensive, so I lift her up and put her in the car. (In the process I touched her wound getting vitamin E all over my hand. As many of you may know, that didn't go over well and I promptly went in to wash my hand holding it out in front of me as if it had leprosy).

I told Sally that she was sore and needed help getting in the car. When we arrived at Tufts, she took her time getting out of the car, but jumped down and walked into the building -- half excited to see her friends, half shaking, afraid to get more radiation. When we picked her up from the visit, Sally was the one to open the car door for her and she PROMPTLY jumped into it for her. No need for assistance at all.

When we arrived at home it was just Arrow and I. We had dropped Sally off to pick up her car which was being serviced. I open the door for her and she stares at the ground, wondering how she will ever jump the 1000 feet to the garage floor. She takes a step down, puts her foot back up, tries again, moves around again as if saying, "oh, I don't know if I can do this!" She was soooo dramatic, I would swear her pain level was a 9.5!

My question/thought is: Why do you suppose she puts on the drama for me? And maybe that's why I come off looking like Debbie Downer!

Checkup Time

Tomorrow we head out to Tufts again for the one month post check-up. Crazy that it has been a month already! My head spins with how fast time goes. So far the radiation has affected her quality of life for about six weeks. Sally refutes that her quality of life is affected, but then I remind her of the donut, e-collars, and t-shirts. Also, her walks have been short and she is still limping quite a bit. Would I do the treatment again...I have to say yes. She is doing well.

Continued Improvement and other Changes

Arrow continues to improve as evidenced by her racing Buttons to see who can get out the door first, walking ahead of us on our walks, and the continued fiesty behavior of ripping off t-shirts, and trying to pull off the sheet we have placed on her bed (to prevent icky stuff from sticking to it). Her wound looks better some days and then on other days it looks like it is still pretty raw and then gets scabby again. I feel kind of bad still putting one of the collars (either the e-collar or donut) on her while we're gone for the day because I've promised her she would be better by now. But she doesn't hate me yet.

The new direction now is that she is starting to itch it with her back leg. That is a bad thing. We tried putting a sock on her this morning to prevent her nails from scratching her sore. Oh my God, I don't think I can describe how funny that was. She took one step with her front paws and then lifted up her paw with the sock on it and walked like she had to lift that leg over a giant log. She took about four steps just like that until she could collapse in her dog bed. She is too damn funny! So now she is on benadryl which makes her a little mellow. Can't wait to see what phase is next :)

Today Was A Wicked Good Day

Hi, this is guest blogger Sally again. Gloria is busy worrying about something else for a change so I get to give the update. Today was a wicked pissah day for all of us. I really think we turned a new page in this adventure.

Our friends Suzanne and Pete visited this weekend. Arrow has known Suz her whole life and just met Pete for the first time. Arrow was showing off big time for them both, picking up her toys and flinging them around the living room yesterday. She really liked Pete a lot, so she made sure to sit at his feet when not doing her nudgy pat me thing with her nose. She hasn't really shown interest in her toys much, so we took this as a good sign.

This morning we took both dogs out in the woods for a longer walk with our friends, but weren't sure how long Arrow could go. She was pretty frisky yesterday so we thought she might be a little sore today. But the little girl showed us exactly how she was feeling. She ran off trail to chase chippy munks, went up and down the steep hills, picked up sticks, and barked in her playful way that says "c'mon, pick it up guys, stop moping. You are all walking like peas." Those of you who have known us for a while know that expression well. A Glo-ism. She rolled in the newly mowed lawn and tried to drink from the drunk cow stream in our back yard (Years back some neighbors had to dispose of their moonshine quickly so they dumped it into the brook, where allegedly it flowed into the cow field across the street and all the cows got trashed. So we call it drunk cow stream.) Today was really the first day that she seemed totally like her true self.

Perhaps getting into some mischief has been good for her. It always has been good for me!!She ripped her tshirt off last night while we were at dinner, has taken off her swimmie a few times and has been getting feisty over all. I think she is telling us she is done with this sick role behavior, and ready to have some fun. We took Buttons for a long hike to Mt. Skinner this afternoon, and leaving Arrow behind was so sad. But in a few weeks, she will be a hiking fool again. We can't wait.

You can see for yourself with these pictures just how much fun she was having!

I Thought My Dog was Normal...

For a long time, I really thought Arrow was a normal dog. I never had a dog before her (unless you count "Pork chop" a yappy Chihuahua who I had as a 11 year old and lasted in our family maybe 3 weeks) so I really didn't have a reference point for what dogs are like. I had heard some horror stories about dogs who jumped out windows, ate the linoleum, or caused complete chaos in their homes. But those stories were out of the ordinary so for all my years of having Arrow, I considered her normal.

But over the years we have gotten to spend quite a bit of time with "real dogs." Currently, with Buttons living with us, we are once again reminded of how our dog is --- well, how do I say it...odd!

Now to set the stage, I have to say that Buttons is a GREAT dog! She is totally well trained (good job Kathy and Minh), expressive, and cute as a...well...button. But she is more like a "real dog" than Arrow. Here are some examples:

We were instructed to give Buttons a very thin rolled up (maybe even compressed?) rawhide to eat when we sit down to dinner. This would keep her from staring at us and give her something to do. So they gave us several of these sticks and so far, each night at dinner, we have given one to Buttons and one to Arrow. Buttons, like a real dog, gets hers down in about 5 minutes flat. She chews it up like it is candy and then its gone. You hardly even noticed that she was chewing.

Arrow on the other hand, doesn't take the stick directly in her mouth. She sniffs it, thinks about it, and then looks at you wondering if there is something better coming. When your arm gets tired from holding it in front of her nose, you finally drop it on her bed and let her take it on when she's good and ready. She places the stick between her paws and starts the process of daintily chewing on the stick. By the end, she starts chewing, and chewing, louder and louder, then--the snorting sounds start. It sounds as if she just got rawhide down her windpipe. Then the choking motion happens followed by a cough in which a piece of rawhide inevitably comes up from being lodged down her throat. Convinced she is going to choke to death we go to take it from her and she finally is able to swallow it down. Her skinny rawhide days are over!

While we're on the topic of treats, I can add that as soon as Buttons hears a bag crinkle or a cabinet door open, she is in the kitchen standing so close to me that I have to catch my balance or I might fall on top of her. She is game to eat anything. In fact, in some ways she was easy to train because Kathy would ask her if she wanted a treat and she would run right over to her. All very normal dog behavior.

Arrow on the other hand will not be bribed with treats. In fact, the treat has to be pretty darn special for her to be bothered to open her mouth. Many times, I have put a treat in front of her and she would either turn her head and disregard me or put it in her mouth only to drop it as soon as I stepped away, abandoning the treat for good. If I yell "treat" to her, she could care less. She loves peanut butter and I've been putting her pain meds in peanut butter so she would swallow those right down. But each day, I'd place the peanut butter under her nose and she would turn her head as if she really didn't like peanut butter much. You might say, well she didn't like it because she knew it had the pill in it. But the reality is, Buttons would become a prescription drug addict to be able to eat that peanut butter. Our routine was, she would turn her head and I would remind her that she LOVES peanut butter and is just playing hard to get. Finally she'd remember that I was telling the truth and eat it right up. What kind of lab is not food motivated?? That has always been a mystery to me.

When I put Buttons' food down in front of her, she eats it up in a heart beat. It is gone probably within 3 minutes. Arrow, leisurely strolls over to her bowl, take a few bites, looks up, looks around, takes a few more bites. In some ways, she tortures poor Buttons who has finished her meal and is staring at Arrow just hoping she would walk away from her bowl. I think Buttons is calculating how long it would take her to finish Arrow's bowl, "I would only need 6 seconds!" Yesterday, Sally's comment while Buttons was eating: "It's funny to see how a 'real dog' eats."

When we wake up in the morning, our routine is to shower, go downstairs, eat breakfast, and have a slow morning. We take Arrow out for a walk, and then when we're back, we feed her. Buttons, with her small bladder, is kind of pacing, trying to decide if she wants us to feed her first or let her out to pee. The first morning we had her it took us a fair amount of time to figure out she was actually asking to go out to pee-- again, something most dogs get trained to do and then become proficient at.

Not Arrow. She rarely asks to go out. We can sleep for 10 hours, come downstairs, take another two hours to putter around, and she just sits there. Sometimes, I've even opened the door for her because I'm sure her little bladder must be killing her. She goes on the deck or in the lawn and just lies there--maybe she'll roll around in the grass. But she won't pee. She wants company for her bathroom break and will wait for Sally or I to join her.

But I guess it is unfair for someone who is far from normal to expect as much from her dog. Both Sally and I are pretty darn quirky and perhaps that's why our funny little yellow dog fits right in!

Happy Halloween!

Arrow has a friend, Buttons, staying with her this week. She's kind of excited about having her here because it makes her forget about her injury. Tonight, we played dress up and put the soft e-collar on Buttons. We wanted Arrow to see that other dogs wear the collar too. We thought we could probably get a lot of candy from the neighbors if we went trick or treating--Buttons in the clown costume and Arrow as an ice cream cone. But then we decided we don't need really need candy. All and all we had a nice halloweeen here in Hadley.

Fashion Faux Pas

Apparently Arrow did not agree with the fashion statement she was making by wearing her new "Soft e-collar." On Saturday, I finally convinced Sally to e-mail one of her crew-mates who is known to have purchased one of these accessories from an on-line store. Because neither of us knew she would need to wear a collar for such a long period of time, we didn't bother investing in the "donut." But after having me abandon her for the guestroom, Sally agreed it was time to find an alternative to the e-collar. If you remember, within 15 minutes of wearing the e-collar, Arrow begins to smack her lips as if she is dehydrated and perhaps slightly suffocating from the cone placed on her head.

I know many of you would agree that she could really be a fashion model in her new wardrobe:




Well, I thought we had solved the problem and that she would embrace her borrowed "swimmie" and trot around the house as if she were wearing Prada. But I came home this evening from work, and called to her, expecting to see her rise from her downstairs bed and greet me. Instead, I find an abandonded "donut," in her bed in the livingroom and my dog at the top of the stairs wondering why I looked concerned! Apparently all the dogs are NOT wearing such fine accoutrements and she did not want to be the only one on her block with a built in pillow on her neck.

Our First Big Outing

We had a big day for ourselves over here. Boney took her first big outing since radiation began to take its toll. First, the other day, we walked all the way around the farm across the street. We took our time, but she wanted to do the whole big loop. In fact, I started to walk towards home before we went ALL the way down to the river and she stopped dead in her tracks as if to say, "Hello! This is my time, and I want to see the water!" So we went down to the river, surveyed the property, and turned around and came home. She picked up a couple of sticks along the way, threw them around and even jumped up once (She pretty much said, "ouch" on the landing).

Well, today was even a bigger day. We got up at 5:45am (yes, that is AM not PM), we gave Arrow her pills, fed her and then packed up the car for a trip to Saratoga for the Head of the Fish regatta. Sally was rowing and wanted her good luck charm there (in case you were wondering, I am not the good luck charm...She rubs Arrow's head for good luck before a race -- not mine). It was a two hour drive and Arrow snuggled with Sally in the back seat of the car. Just so you don't think I was driving Ms Daisys around, we had another rower, Maryellen in the front seat. We got to the regatta and she walked quite far to our muddy and freezing cold spectator spot. We set up my chair and her blanket and set out to watch Sally's 11am race.

Now let me set the stage just so you know how we were both dedicated fans. The regatta was MUDDY! Rain all day yesterday left the grass rather gross. If you remember how much Arrow loves puddles (and yes, I do too!) you'll know that she walked an obstacle course around all the open water. We had to arrive at the regatta for 9am (two hours before the race). OK, we can do that, no problem. "Hopefully when the sun comes up it will be warmer than 30 degrees outside" Boney and I said to ourselves. As we sat there, Sally gave us the good news. The time of the race wasn't 11am. It was really NOON! Not only did we get up an extra hour early, but we got to sit in the freezing cold for another hour (which turned into an hour and a half because there were delays)!

So Boney and I made some friends. She has really taken on a whole new attitude. She has always been overall friendly, but most of you know she has her skittish moments where she doesn't want to meet new people and she doesn't want to be pet. She was sooo relaxed at this regatta. She was going up to people and putting her head in their hands, leaning up against them, and nudging them with her nose. Sally and I thought she was saying, "Hi, I'm Arrow, I have cancer. But I'm a survivor! Aren't I cute? I would like it if you would pet me."

Here's who we met. The two people sitting next to us loved her. They were freezing to death waiting for their college aged daughter who was rowing for guess where? Binghamton! Small world I thought. (A digression, these two asked me if I had a daughter in the race. Now mind you that today's races included college and masters rowers. So my daughter could have been 20 or 30+. Either way, I felt quite old). These people really liked Arrow. We discussed her radiation and they told me about their 16 year old poodle that they just had to put down. They loved the dog so much and wished us both luck.

Then we met a man who just thought she was the cutest thing. We talked about her cancer and then I said, I had no idea how radiation burned the skin. To which he said, "Neither did my mother, but I tell her as long as it gets rid of the cancer its worth it!"

The next couple we met had a nine month old golden retriever with them. They said they just recently had to put down their 9 year old golden who had a brain tumor. They decided not to treat the dog as the chances of success were very small. We are lucky they said and wished us the best.

We met many other people throughout the day who smiled at her or stopped and asked if they could pet our dog. We learned that everyone had a story and that story was sometimes sad, and sometimes inspiring, but they all revealed a little bit about strangers and the commonalities between us. All in all she had a great first day out (better than Sally's row apparently) and is happy to have spent it with both of us (despite the cold).

There are many reasons why Sally and I have decided we won't have children. One of those reasons has become glaringly clear: I am a worrier (you may have been able to tell this about me from previous posts). I don't think that I will get a good night's sleep until Arrow's restriction on licking her wound is lifted. Everytime she makes a sound, I hear it. If we put a t-shirt on her, she can sometimes get to the lower part of her wound and lick it. If we put the e-collar on her, she smacks her lips throughout the night. Everytime, I hear it. Last night I couldn't do it anymore. I slept in the guest room. I shut the door. Left my wife with Arrow (she can sleep through anything--another item for our list of reasons), and slept like a baby.

Payin' It Forward

Glo says I can be the guest blogger tonight. She is busy teaching her on line course while I watch the sox.

We had a good report at Tufts today. The wound is healing well. In fact, today they said the area was a bit too dry. A far cry from the moist desquamation ick of the past 1o days. She has to stay on the pain meds for a while after the skin heals because the muscles below are inflamed. However, she will start more weight bearing on the left front leg soon as the inflammation subsides and we only have to clean the thing every other day or so rather than daily. This is really great news. The front desk staff, oncology techs and Dr. Lee were happy to see her, and she was oddly glad to see them as well.

She was adorable at the hospital, greeting everyone in the waiting room with her nose pressed into their hands for a pat. She totally goes up to strangers now, like the Welcome Wagon. When we walked in to check in, a couple was there for emergency care for their 6 year old yellow lab with kidney failure. The dog had been fine, and suddenly stopped eating. Boom, then diagnosed with kidney failure. The woman was crying as they took her pup in for examination. After we checked in, Arrow, Glo and I found a seat in the waiting room sort of near the crying lady. Well, Arrow marched right over to her, nudged her hand in that "you need to pat me now and don't stop" way that she is so adept at doing, and sat next to her. The woman smiled, stroked her head, as Arrow looked at her with those soulful eyes. I really saw this sense of calm and peace appear on the woman's face. She stopped crying at that moment.

Arrow really tunes in to others' emotional states, and has a way of being present with you that is hard to explain. My dad says she always knows where you are. He speaks literally, that Wally. So what he means is when we have been out for the night and she is hanging with them at the Cape watching some dumb tv show likely fox news, she is sound asleep. A few minutes before we pull into the driveway, Arrow will sit up in her bed or stand up and look at the door because she senses our return. She knows where we are- not just physically but mentally.

We ended up having a nice conversation with the couple and all found support and consolation in a shared experience of facing a dire diagnosis unexpectedly. I think seeing Arrow heal, and hopefully being on the other side of this, has shown me what faith can do. And how it really feels good to pay it forward. Arrow with her cold wet nose pressed into this stranger's hand, and her bright eyes and gentle spirit brightened these folks' day. Thanks Arrow for teaching us how to live in the moment and to pay it forward.

It Takes a Village

Everyone needs friends and family to help them heal. Not only does Boney have two doting moms who love her very much, but she has Beanie and Booda who keep her company and share their love. Neither of them have taken to licking and cleaning her wound (thank God!), but they are all about cleaning her ears, licking her face, and keeping her company.

Tomorrow is our two week follow up with the vet. I will be interested in knowing how they think she is progressing. I know some of you may think I'm projecting, but I think she is a little depressed. She looks sad and tired. She doesn't get out of bed without A LOT of coaxing. When we get walking, she does have a spring in her step and her appetite is fine, but I think she's tired of being sick. And she is still in some pain.

Her stunt this evening: We came home from work and took her out for a walk. We left to go celebrate a friend's birthday. We didn't want to put her e-collar on her (see the picture below), so we put a white polo shirt on her. When we came home, her shirt was ripped off and lying on the steps. She was alone in her bed upstairs looking all innocent. Her wound looks cleaner than it ever has -- the little devil!

Home Sweet Home

I got home late last night. I was hoping Boney would greet me at the door, but she was kind of drugged out of her mind. Sally did such a great job taking care of her. She is really getting a lot better. She's still limping and still has to wear the lampshade, but we can take longer walks and she can trot more than she used to. We go back to the vet on Thursday morning. I think she really is coming along!

Secondhand News

I'm still in Omaha so I can't provide a real time update on Arrow's progress. Sally sent me a picture of her over the phone which was nice. The report from the vet's office is that everything looks good and she is starting to show a bit more pink skin around the edges which means she's starting to heal. Tomorrow is the day that she should turn the corner. However, the radiation tech told Sally today, "They tell people it only gets worse for a week, but I've seen it get worse over a two week period sometimes." Hello?! I've been telling Arrow all week that this will soon be over. She did say that it did look like Arrow is in the healing phase so that is good news. Arrow even jumped into the back seat of Sally's car without help today when Sally opened the door. It sounds like things are going well while I'm away. I do miss everyone though!

Poor Sally

In my moments of self reflection, I have often found myself saying, "Poor Sally." I have several reasons for such thoughts. First, poor Sally is home alone with Boney for the next five days--the next two of which will be her worst days. I am in Omaha NE while I write this having had to leave my wife and my dog (oh, and the cats) behind for several days. Let me digress for a moment and say that after being in Omaha for about five hours, I would MUCH rather be at home with the family. But back to "poor Sally." She is at home having to take primary responsibilty for all the medicine, all the walks, all the cleanings, and the ointment spreading over the next few days. Today was a particularly sad day for me because as we were doing this morning's cleaning, (and you all know Sally was doing wound care while I was holding Arrow's head and whispering sweet nothings in her ear) Arrow actually wimpered for the first time.

Second, I say "poor Sally," because as hard as it will be for her to do all of the caretaking while I am gone, I'm not so sure that she is any worse off than when I was at home. I found myself quizzing her about what medication was given when and how many times a day. I would ask her to double check a medication before she gave it to her to make sure that she was administering the right one. I would ask her how she would handle different scenarios while I was gone. I was kind of like a gnat.

I am pretty attentive to Arrow. And let's just say, while she begins to go to sleep, I hear EVERY move she makes, EVERY breath that she takes. "Poor Sally" is trying to sleep because she has to get up at the ungodly hour of 4:45am for crew practice (which I will add is her choice) and I am popping up in bed every 5-15 min SURE that I hear Arrow licking her wound (through the t-shirt we have put on her). Invariably when I pop up, she is lying peacefully in her bed. Sometimes, I think she heard me pop up and so lies down before I can see her and then I try to pop up without making noise to trick her. But again, I am 95% of the time wrong about what I have heard.

Last night, I popped up about four times in the first hour after going to bed. Once was to make sure she wasn't licking her wound, one time was so that I could turn the TV and lights off downstairs, another time was to go to the bathroom, and the final time was because she was breathing heavy. I do have to say, her breathing was labored and I was convinced we perhaps had overmedicated her (long story, a pill I gave her got stuck in her throat and less than half was ingested. Sally followed up with a whole pill). Her breathing was shallow and noticeably heavy. I got up and sat with her for awhile. Sally was at first annoyed and then agreed that the breathing was odd. After a fifth "pop up" to take off her polo shirt (perhaps she is too hot) and put on her e-collar, it appeared that her breathing returned to normal. But alas, the silence didn't last long before she resumed her heavy breathing. So a sixth "pop up" resulted in my going to the computer and googling side effects of her medication. Finally, I convinced myself she would be OK. At this point "poor Sally" was down to a maximum of four hours of sleep (assuming no more pop ups).

Finally, "poor Sally" is getting a glimpse of how I may respond to her as my partner if she were to get sick and need care. Although it is likely that she will be soothed by the way I hold her head in my arms, stroke her hair, and tell her I love her, I think she is also clear that I'm not going to be so good at preventing infection in her bed sores. She may be upping her retirement savings so that she can pay for a visiting nurse to handle that aspect of her care.

I realize as I write this that many of you might have your own "poor Sally" thoughts to add. Be gentle. Its been a rough few weeks :)

Animal Behavior

I thought I would post a nice cute picture of Arrow to help erase the sad image below. Here she is with her new polo shirt -- halloween colors and all (Thank you Amy and Justin!).

Here is a question I'm pondering...Why does Arrow (and probably other dogs do the same thing) feel compelled to lick up and eat pieces of herself that fall onto the floor or in her bed? Whether its the ointment that falls onto her bed or literally pieces of her burn, she tries to eat them (even with the lampshade on her head!) I'm trying to understand this behavior. It could be that she wants to lick her wound but can't get to it and this is the next best thing. It could be that she wants to clean up after herself (dogs are pretty clean). It could be some other kind of instinct. But I'm trying to understand her desire to do this. It's not her best quality, but she still is the cutest thing ever!

Today's Blog is Not for Everyone

I'm giving you all a chance to NOT scroll below if you have a weak stomach or if you don't want to see Boney's current state of health. I took a couple of pictures of her tonight and after talking with Sally and some friends who saw her yesterday, I decided to post the pictures below. Sally and I were asking each other how we made it to 40-something not knowing that radiation treatment can burn one's body! We really had no idea. And we certainly didn't know what it would look like in our dog.

When we first went to the oncologist, he told us that as a result of the radiation, Arrow would get a "bad sunburn." Now, I've had bad sunburns before. In fact, my friend Don and I used to try to get really sunburned just so we could whine about it together! (We were young and this was before all the health communications about the dangers of the sun causing skin cancer. Public Health in action. 30 years later, we wouldn't dream of being so silly--or would we?).

Needless to say, Arrow's side effects from radiation are far worse than anything Don and I did to ourselves. I hope these pictures say a couple of things: 1) The reality of cancer is that it is harsh and it takes a lot to kill the cancer cells. It really is serious businees. This is Arrow's process. It's not every dog's experience. 2) She is incredibly brave and strong to be tolerating her treatment so well. Today, we walked across the street to the farm and she was trotting right along. Although I know she is still in pain (she was walking sideways for most of it), she is really doing well. The burn will continue to get worse over the next four days (apprarently radiation stays in the system for seven days post treatment continuing to do its thing). We're counting down.

In the picture of her in her bed, you'll notice a little brown spot next to the big burn. That is from radiation they administered to her lymph node. The last treatment on that spot was last Tuesday, so that spot is just about at its peak. You can see it looks nothing like the football on the right. I'm wondering if that one is so bad because she had recently had surgery? I'm not sure.

Some of you might think this is really harsh treatment for a dog. But we really believe we did the right thing and that her chances of having a lot more time in the sun, hikes, swims, sticks, and hot dogs will be greatly improved. She is resting comfortably tonight.

Labor of Love

Most of the time I look at Arrow and see her as a dog who is getting better. Other times, I look into her eyes and see my dog who has cancer. Even though they removed the tumor, she is undergoing cancer treatment, and I can't help but see my dog as being ill. I wonder, "How did we get here?" But I guess that is always the case with a cancer diagnosis. Its not like we prepare for it and then it happens. It comes up out of the blue and catches you off guard. Those of you who know me well know that of course I've been thinking about the day when little Boney gets sick. Truthfully though I didn't picture that happening until a couple of years down the road. I didn't picture spending this fall helping her with her cancer treatment. These are the realities that we now face. Arrow was sick and she is recovering, but she's also worn out, scared, sometimes confused, sometimes content (and sometimes drugged out of her mind!).

The routine around here has changed quite a bit for the next couple of weeks. We get up in the morning and give her two different pain pills. We let them kick in for about half and hour and then we take her downstairs, walk slowly down the stairs with her and let her out into the backyard to do her thing. You'd think that this would be quick, she would pee and poop, and want to come back inside because she is sore. That's not exactly how it goes. She stands in the woods and stares at us for about 10 minutes or so before she decides that we REALLY aren't going for a walk and that she really is going to be stuck inside the house all day again. Occasionally during this outing she will pick up a couple of sticks to try to entice us to play with her.

Back inside finally, we feed her and let her drink some water. We eat our own breakfast and then we lay out a towel onto the tile floor and get the warm water, cleaning solution, Vitamin E oil and ointment out and lay it around the towel. After yelling at the cats to get out of the way (that would be me yelling at them), we call Arrow over and convince her to lie down. As much as she knows this is going to be unpleasant, she walks over to us and lies herself down. Sally does the cleaning and I hold her head and tell her its all going to be OK. I rub her forehead, and keep her from licking the cleaning solution while Sally applies it. This takes about 5-10 minutes and then Sally puts the ointment on. I then lay on the floor with her, rubbing her head and keeping her relaxed. The saddest part about this is that the whole time her little body is tembling. She is so scared, and the pain is pretty bad, but she trusts us. Sometimes she'll even lift her little arm in the air to help Sally reach under it and clean it out. Ten minutes after the ointment, we put a t-shirt on her (we have a bunch of them now) so that while we are here, she doesn't have to wear the lamp shade.

Early evening, she gets another pill, more ointment, and another head massage. Back outside, we have to convince her once again that she's not ready for a walk, and then in for dinner. About 8 pm, she gets one more pill. Before bed, we give her one liquid dose of an anti-inflammatory, and one more pain pill--Let it kick in, and then back outside for the final pee. The ointment goes on, ten more minutes of a head massage, and then the t-shirt. Then we all go up to bed. Whew! Another day down. Five more to go before peak. We're getting there!

She's Home!

We brought Arrow home this evening. She is a superstar! Nineteen treatments and a football sized burn later she is home and has hopefully kicked cancer's ass. When we picked her up we needed to have a discharge appointment with the oncologist. He took us all into a side room and gave us our instructions (and there are many). I sat on the floor with her to pet her because we hadn't seen her since Tuesday morning. Instead of coming to Sally or I, she nestled with Dr. Lee. Not feeling too put out (yet) we listened as he rubbed her ears and told us how to care for her.

Then, Jen, her new Vet student friend comes into the room. She is the one who said she LOVED her and would miss her (when I was talking with her on the phone this morning, the vet tech in the background yelled, "give her extra kisses from us when you get her home this weekend!). She walked right away from Dr. Lee and right into the arms of Jen! My new positive self reframed my feeling of abandonment into this: "I'm so glad they took good care of her and Arrow feels safe with these people. She really wants to say goodbye to both of them."

She came home and we took her e-collar off (which we can only do when we are with her or she will lick herself). It was very sweet to see Sally lie on the floor with her, rub her head, and whisper happy thoughts to her. She also assured her that she didn't miss any action here during the week! Arrow was a love muffin. She was leaning into Sally, then she was snuggling with me. She didn't forget us for her new friends at Tufts! She still loves us :)

They gave her a new medication which takes care of some of the neuropathic pain (probably why she was twitching). She seems to be doing much better than last weekend. I think that new med is the bomb! Sally wants me to take the new med too as she thinks it will help with my twitch.

P.S. Sally is having angst. You can try to guess why. Would you say it is a) Arrow's pain; b) Having to put ointment on the raw nasty flesh wound 3x a day; or c) the fact that the rugs are going to get her pussy skin all over them; or d) all of the above.

End of Treatment Eve

Tomorrow is Arrow's last day of treatment. I can't believe it has been four weeks since we started this whole process. The hospital staff and Drs. love her. The vet student who called Sally today said that Arrow was doing fine and she had just taken her out for a walk. She said to Sally, "I Love your dog! She is such a good dog. She's soooo sweet."

She told us that they wrote in her chart last night that she didn't eat much. Then they opened a can of dog food and fed her that and she ate that right up (she has always loved her can -- when she was a puppy we used to get her to come by asking her in a high pitched voice, "do you want your can?" and she would come running). The student said Arrow wouldn' eat for her this morning, but then she took her e-collar off and she ate it right up. Sally had to tell them -- she won't eat or drink in her e-collar. Of course she won't eat with the e-collar. As soon as she bends down the collar hits the bowl, the floor, the wall, something -- and that's just too scary! The problem is, as soon as they take that off of her, she immediately starts to lick her wound. We have a picture of her in her collar, but the camera battery died. As soon as we get batteries, I'll post the picture. As sad as it is, she looks adorable.

We're going to keep her pretty drugged up (without overdosing her of course) and hopefully she won't be in so much pain. I have a new attitude. I'm going to be strong for her and give her only positive energy (or at least that is the plan:) I can't believe how much I LOVE my dog!

Perspective

I am doing much better again. Of course when I dropped Arrow off on Tuesday I was a bit of a mess. The poor radiation tech came out to get her --she was all perky and said, "Hi Arrow! How is Arrow today?" Poor woman didn't know what she was in for. Of course I burst into tears! I know, I know, I'm a ball of emotions. But they assure me she is doing fine. Sally and I (well, OK, Sally really) did a good job of keeping her wound clean and she is progressing fine. They called today and said that she is really doing fine. This is what the vet student said, "Her chart says she was in a lot of pain over the weekend, but she's doing fine. She's only limping a little." There are two interpretations of this statement. 1) She doesn't know Arrow and is misinterpreting her pain level; or 2) Arrow is affected by my worrying. I have my suspicions that it is #2.

It has always been my philosophy that life gives us lessons in our daily experiences. Things happen for a reason and we are supposed to learn from them. Sally HATES when I tell her that perhaps a particularly bad day or repeating situation has some lesson in it for her. I'm reading the book Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Its actually a pretty good book and a few weeks ago, while in Target, I was drawn to this book (no one recommended it at the time). There are a few tidbits that are appropriate for this experience. One point in particular relates to what I need to learn (or re-learn).

I have some issues with control. I want to take care of Arrow's illness and her pain. My lesson: I need to let go. Gilbert says, "Letting go, of course, is a scary enterprise for those of us who believe that the world revolves only because it has a handle on the top of it which we personally turn, and that if we were to drop this handle for even a moment, well that would be the end of the universe. " I can't take away Arrow's pain and my worrying, in fact, is making her worse (note, I know I can't take away her pain, but the drugs can!). I need to accept the process for what it is and believe that she has the strength and courage to get through this. She keeps trying to tell me that and I have not listened to her.

I have also learned a lot about my partner in this process. She shows a depth of caring and love through all of her actions. She in many ways is taking care of both of us. In our day to day, we sometimes lose site of the really beautiful qualities of our partners (like when they can't accept your desire to see the Yankees win), but Sally is very gentle with and very loving towards Arrow. It is quite moving.

Friday, when we pick her up, it's my job to help her, to let her know I'm OK, and listen and watch her as she lets me know that she will be OK too.

If you can't be with the one you love, honey, love the one you're with.

Tonight the doctor did not call for the daily update. Glo is disappointed because he said he would call and it is a letdown to be blown off. She was just thinking she should blog tonight. Just at the moment she was getting ready to begin the daily outpouring, Beanie jumped up on her lap. We decided Beanie was saying take a night off, and pay some attention to me. I am cute too, even if I do jump on the table when you are eating dinner. I am the one with the free laptop at the moment so we are signing off now. Sal

4 and 11

Four more radiation treatments and 11 more days until the burn is at its peak. I probably shouldn't write this while I'm sobbing, but I think this process is awful. She is in a lot of pain, at times you can see her side twitching. I'm trying not to cry while she is around me so I don't make her nervous, but I'm not having much luck. The good news is that she still has an appetite and perked up when we gave her a hot dog. And she swallowed it down as if there isn't a care in the world. I remember when I had my tonsils out, I would look at the clock to see when I could have my next pain med. That's kind of what I'm doing now. She has 30 minutes until her next pill.

We have managed not to poison her this weekend which is good. She hasn't thrown up. We have started an "Arrow getting better on dope" chart to keep track of her meds and so far so good. I feel like they didn't give us quite enough information when we left the hospital on Friday. We're both wondering if her wound is infected because we don't know what it is supposed to look like.

She still keeps us laughing though. We took her in the back yard this morning to go to the bathroom. She's not walking much. Arrow is a dog who really likes to go and poop in private. She will go deep into the woods and find a private spot to do her business. She has always done that. This morning I tried to tell her she could poop in the lawn that it was OK we would clean it up for her. But no, she climbed the hill and took a few steps off the path to do her business. Then she stood there and stared at us. I of course thought that she was standing there because she was in too much pain to come back down the hill. So we tried to call her and entice her to take the necessary steps. But she just stood there. I asked if she wanted some help and took a few steps toward her when she started to walk down the hill AND proceeded to grab a stick! It was like she was saying, "I so don't need your help -- and I can play too!"

We resorted to the lamp shade this morning to give her wound some air time. They told us a shirt was fine, but again, without much instruction we don't know if it continues to be fine as it gets worse. Is it better to air it out? Keep it covered? I don't know. So we decided to give her a break from the shirt. She looked so damn cute in the lamp shade. She wouldn't move for like 5 minutes. She stood there staring at us as if to say, "you can't be serious. I'm now on strike until you get this thing off of my head!" But finally, Sally opened the dishwasher behind her to give her a little prodding and she came over and got into her bed in the living room. I of couse wanted to gate off the stairs so that she wouldn't climb them with the lamp shade on while we were gone. But before I could do that, I was upstairs brushing my teeth when I here little footsteps in the bedroom. Sure enough she again showed me that she is still quite capable!

She's a little trooper.

Uggh!

Well, this isn't going to be pretty. Arrow is doing well. She wants to run and play, but then realizezs that she can't really do that because it kind of hurts. The radiated area is really, really ugly. Let's just say that Sally tells me I shouldn't look at it. She has agreed to do wound care. Reasons why I love my wife: She knows my limits.

I've been having a hard time seeing her. She is kind of tired because of her pain med. I also think this whole process is wiping her out some. The next two weeks are going to continue to be worse and I can't imagine what that will look like. I think her leg might fall off (OK, that's the drama I was mentioning in an earlier blog).

I know in my heart that this is the right thing to do. But I have to say I'm giving it second thoughts. I don't know if she knows what's happening. I don't know if she thinks we're hurting or helping her. If the cancer comes back soon did we just impact the quality of her life? Ugghhhh.....

I think Sally will have a different take on this whole experience, but for me...it's hard.

It's a Long Way to Tipperary!

We brought our girl home tonight. The traffic was terrible and it took us about 4 hours round trip to get her. It felt like 44.

The area is pretty red and sore. I think she might be uncomfortable. We have lots of meds to get us through the weekend. Hopefully we won't overdose her. We're taking Kathy's advice and making a chart with check boxes so we can keep track of the drugs. Our other goal is to get her through the weekend without throwing up. We have a long weekend which is nice. Only four more treatments left!

She's "Doing Great!"

I felt a little like I was cheating on Arrow tonight. We went over to the house of one of her doggie friends for dinner (yummy!) and a game of Taboo. She would have been proud of her mommies who did very well at the game. Her radiation treatment helped us through some words like "sunburn," and "stiff." But Buttons missed her and I couldn't help but think she would have enjoyed being there with us.

The update from the Dr. is that she's "doing great." She's sleeping well, eating, does not have any GI issues and they check on her every hour. That's pretty much more attention then she gets at home. She is also not licking her wound which keeps that stupid e-collar off of her hopefully for good. We pick her up tomorrow for a long weekend! It's been very quiet around here. We look forward to having her home.

Cuteness

Sally tells me that I have an easily accessible, but not so functional coping strategy. I go to the dark side and imagine the worst, and get sad about the whole process. When the Dr. calls and gives us the update on Arrow, I hear, "she's alone and in a lot of pain." Sally, on the other hand hears, "She's doing well and starting to get mild irritation at the incision site. We're going to send you home with a stronger pain med on Friday just to stay ahead of the pain."

My new coping strategy that I'm trying out today is to talk about how cute Arrow is and share some of her unique qualities. Some people say that dogs are like their owners. Now Arrow is definitely our dog - both Sally and I are dedicated to her fully and completely. As I describe her quirky yet endearing qualities, I leave it up to the reader to decide who she acquired a particular trait from (or which one of us picked up the trait from her).

When I picked Arrow up from the shelter, she was 10 weeks old. Her ears were about three sizes as big as her head and when they perked up, a good wind might have propelled her away. She came into the house (I was living in Montague then), walked into the dining room, and curled up on the floor nestled into the corner of the sectional couch we had in that room. She was only 10 weeks old! What dog at 10 weeks, goes into a new place and doesn't explore? Or try to chew things? My friends (and you know who you are) asked if the shelter actually gave me an old dog. Or a dog with progeria. I like to think of her as an old soul.

As time went on, I learned about some of her other quirky traits. She has some fear. We sooned learned that she is afraid of metal. Of course, I didn't know that and was convinced that her metal crate would become her safe haven from the scary world. "Why does she keep peeing in it?" I would ask. Dogs aren't supposed to pee where they sleep. Poor thing had a crazy fear of metal! And then the ice skates. She slipped her collar twice as a puppy and ran home to get away from the sound of the metal skates on ice. (I'm talking blocks, and she ran! I wasn't walking her either time, but she took off like a bolt of lightening and the poor person in charge was left to wonder where she could have gone only to find her wagging her tail on the porch of her house.) She is afraid of partially opened doors and wouldn't walk through one even if there was a fresh, juicy hamburger on the other side waiting for her. She grew afraid of the car (really the highway - and Sally is convinced that it is my driving that makes her crazy), and her fear of thunder kicked in about five years ago.

But she has other qualities too. She is Brave! My little dog who is sometimes afraid of her own shadow, will seek out those drainage tubes that go under ground and run through them. No matter how long they are or how skinny, she will try to work her way in and crawl to the other side. There is one of those tubes in our neigbors yard that runs from his backyard all the way down to the street and actually goes under the road and to the other side of the street and into the farm. On one of our walks, she ran ahead of me and I couldn't find her. It dawned on me that she had probably crawled into that tube. Of course, I was sure she would get stuck and I had visions of having to call DPW to excavate the road in order to get her out (that would be the dark side that Sally refers to!).

She is dramatic. She can be prone to a little bit of drama. When she steps on a thorn she walks on three legs and hops over to Sally (yes, Sally. Even she has figured out who the port in the storm is here) for her to remove the "plank" that has entered her paw. The other morning we were walking in the field across the street -- Arrow, Sally, and I-- and Arrow picked up a cornstalk that was lying on the ground. She was throwing it around, taunting us to grab one end and as we got close, she would pull it away and toss it in the air again. Then she started to shred it. Well apparently some of the cornstalk got caught on the roof of her mouth in between her teeth. She was sticking her tongue out reaching for the stuck corn. She put her head to the ground and her paws on her mouth, trying to get it out. She was opening and closing her mouth, snarling as if she might be in serious trouble. My response-- "Honey, you have to help her!" Sally's response -- she walks over, opens her mouth, reaches her fingers down her throat to make sure whe wasn't choking. Satisfied that she would live, Sally keeps walking. Arrow walks ahead, stops, turns around, starts pawing at her face again and walks over to Sally. I'm sure she was saying, "Please, help me -- I'm sure I'm dying!" Sally once again opened her mouth only to see the string of cornstalk that was causing such pain.

She is a frisky puppy. Don't let the progeria I talked about earlier fool you. She puts on the "I'm so tired" face when she's in the house, but take her outside and she runs, chases sticks, hikes, and chases other dogs around who are half her age. As soon as you say, "Wanna go for a walk?" She perks her little ears up, sit up, waits a minute to see if you are serious, and then runs (or trots) to the door. She loves to play keep away and wonders why none of her doggy friends will play that game with her. I try to tell her that she can't pick up a plush toy, push it into her friends mouth and then growl at them when they try to take it from her. It's as if she says, "Come on, I know you want this toy. Isn't it nice? Just take one end and we can play tug of war." Mostly her friends will ignore her taunts, but finally, unable to resist, they open their mouth to take the teddy bear's leg. Arrow will lift her lip. And if that warning isn't enough, she'll add a little growl to it. She still wonders why Beanie and Booda won't play keep away with her.

She is really one of a kind.

Week 3

Arrow seems to be doing better in the GI department. The verdict is that her upset belly happened because we overdosed her. Her arm is not looking so good. She seems to be somewhat uncomfortable and annoyed by her burn. I guess the question is really, "Who wouldn't be?" She's also having a little bit of trouble getting into the car after her treatment. That could very well be because she is pretty drugged at that point. Today she slipped and I had to grab her and lift her into the back seat of the car.

Tomorrow morning Sally is going to drop her off and then she stays at the hospital until Friday. The radiation tech came out into the waiting room this morning and in her hand was the big E-collar. Otherwise known as the lamp shade. Poor boney. She just doesn't look good in one of those. They said that she could wear a shirt instead of the collar. Sally and I bought her a nice little outfit. As soon as we put it on her, I'll get a picture of her and post it here. You might not recognize her :)

Eight more days of treatment left and although that doesn't seem like a lot, I can't imagine what her leg will look like by the time she is done. She is still incredibly frisky. Yesterday we went for a long walk with her old friend Montana and they ran around sniffing and hunting. Tonight she picked up a cornstalk from the field across the street and was playing keep away with Sally and I. She really does not look like a sick dog at all which makes us think she's going to kick cancer's ass! Go Boney!

No Rest for the Weary

Well, we had another rough weekend. This time, it was because of miscommunication between Sally and I. Turns out we both gave Boney her pain medication within 15 minutes of each other. Oops. She had 600mg of her Etogesic! To let you know, one extra pill can throw and already iffy belly into a bad place. Once again, she spent Sat. night and Sun morning throwing up. I have a feeling they might want to perform some diagnostic tests on her belly tomorrow. Fingers crossed that the upset was really because of her over zealous moms and not because of anything more serious.

The Good News

The good news is Arrow is home. And she is more than half way through her treatment. Ten treatments down and nine more to go! So far the radiated area looks OK. It's a little red and irritated, but it doesn't seem to bother her yet. We start her on her anti-inflammatory tonight and hopefully it won't get too much worse.

The other good news is she is feeling somewhat at ease in the hospital. Amy, her friend came out to talk to me today. Arrow saw her, wagged her tail, and went right up to her. Clearly they have bonded. Amy told me that when she got to work this morning at 8am, the oncology team had taken Arrow out of her kennel and kept her in the conference room with them. As Amy came in, Arrow greeted her, and then followed her around from room to room. Then Amy got a blanket and a pillow for her and put it in the corner of the conference room and Arrow curled up in it hanging out with the medical staff until it was time for her treatment. I think they like her.

An update on her GI distress. On her discharge papers they mentioned her diarrhea and said they put her on medication to help. They also said that if it doesn't resolve then they might want to do some testing to make sure nothing else is going on. So of course that made me anxious. When I talked to Amy, I asked her if I should be concerned. She said, they all think it is pretty normal. When a dog undergoes radiation it is really a disruption of their routine. The travel, the new people, the boarding, all contribute to the anxiety. I pushed the issue a little pressing her about whether I should be worried. She said, "No, really, I'll tell you this. When we first met Arrow, we noticed she was a little bit anxious" (I know, I know, I haven't always been the best influence on her). She continued, "One of the residents said, let's take bets on when she gets diarrhea." Amy's point: they expected this kind of reaction. In the mean time, she's back on turkey and rice.

We're looking forward to a good weekend. And by the way, she's perky!

Empty Nest

God I miss my dog when she's not home. I drove up to the house tonight where Sally and her parents (they are visiting through the weekend) were sitting out in the front lawn in the adirondack chairs. They all looked so cute, but there was obviously something missing from the scene. Arrow should have been sitting right at Sally's feet looking out at the road and "her" fields across the street. Her ears would perk up and she would widen her eyes, watching me as I turned up the driveway. When I got to about the midway point, she would stand up. Staring, she would take one step. And then another. And as I put the car in park, she would run up to my door waiting for me to pet her.

And then tonight, making dinner, she would be sitting in front of the slider watching me. When the turkey meat came out she might have perked her ears up again, wiggled her nose to sniff and see if I just pulled out something she might be interested in. She then would have stood up and walked over to me hoping I would drop some of it on the floor. Or, more likely, I would have given in to her cute eyes and given her a taste. When we were sitting at the table, she would have been under it, lying at our feet, waiting for the left overs on our plate. "Maybe, that will end up in my bowl," she would be thinking.

It is so quiet here without her. We told the vet that she's afraid of thunder. The weathermen said we might get a thunderstorm. I see her sitting in her pen, shaking in the corner while it thunders. He said they'd make a note of that in her chart and spend time with her if it thunders.

Here's what I wonder: Does she think we left her there? Does she wonder if we're coming back? Does she wonder why the kitties aren't there too and why she is the only one to get the pleasure of radiation on her leg? Does she miss us? Does she know we're only trying to make her better?

Update

Arrow is spending the night at the hospital. I miss her. I came home and pulled into the garage and paused before I pressed the garage door opener to close the door. I thought "I should leave this open until I take Arrow out before bed." But then I remembered she is staying at the "spa." She is doing OK with the radiation, but she still has GI issues. She woke me up this morning wimpering because she had to go poop. Then she whined again at 7:30am. I took her out again and she -- well not to be too graphic, but she had the runs. On her way to the hospital Sally had to pull over in Sturbridge because Arrow was crying again. Poor honey. They do say it's not a side effect of radiation.

I feel OK with her in the hospital. Sally had her in the waiting room with her bed. She was lying on it while she was waiting for her appointment. Sally said Amy, her radiologist tech came out to talk to some other person and Arrow got out of bed and walked up to her waiting to be pampered. I think she likes Amy. They're taking good care of her. I'll pick her up again on Friday.

Life Lessons

Reflections on the life lessons that Arrow has taught me:

• Be steady on the gas. You get there in the same amount of time and no one gets sick.
  
• Avoid potholes on your journey. They're scary and unpredictable.
  
• Let the sun kiss your belly at least one time per day. It makes you warm and cozy.





• Humans are fun, but everyone needs a good doggie friend.

• Approach life with passion -- especially for the little things. Like sticks.
  
  


• When a door is only partially open, there is no need to push your way through. You probably aren't welcome anyway.
  
• When facing a fear, make yourself look big (even if it's just making your hair stand on end).
  
• When faced with a pill that's difficult to swallow - you can always add peanut butter (unless you're Sally, then cheese is OK too).


• A little mud never hurt anyone.
  
  


• If something doesn't feel right, you can always shake it off.
  
  
  


• Why swim for one stick when, if you wait, you can get three or four?

Life is short. Live strong, play hard, and love deeply!

Pets

Arrow's diagnosis and treatment has made me think a lot about the relationship between dog and dog owner and the meaning of pets in our lives. It's funny because pets didn't take center stage in my upbringing at all. Let's just say I have a book I can write about city farm animals going back to the "farm" and "lost" kitties. Long stories -- for another day (or not). But Arrow really has changed the meaning of friendship and companionship for me. And I hate to say it, but I think she, more than any other thing or person in my life, has taught me about responsibility and caring.

I have such a deep bond that has grown over the years with her. I remember picking her up at the shelter and how cute and tiny she was. And I remember not fully understanding the dog commitment. But she taught be pretty early on that she would be there for me and in return, I learned pretty quickly that I would always be there for her.

I remember the night before she got spayed I had this dream about her. She was about six months old. It was the funniest thing, yet so intense. I dreamt that she was walking on her hind legs, holding onto me with her front legs walking along side of me. And she was looking up at me (with those dark intense eyes) saying, "please don't take me to get spayed, I'll take the pill I promise!" That dream still makes me laugh, but I think about it because it reminds me that that was the first time I felt the responsibility of what it meant to enter into this relationship with her. And that's what it is: When I brought her home, I entered into a relationship -- one in which I would get way more than I could give.

Sometimes, I think I'm a bit overinvolved in her life. For example, when we went to the animal hospital for her initial exam, the oncology student was asking about her history and Sally and I went through all the crazy little ailments and weird things that she's had over the years (including the eye tumor/larva that fell off of her eye!). And when we finished she said, "is there anything else that she's had?" to which I said, "lyme disease" and then caught myself and said, "Oh, no, wait. That was me." My boundaries were a little bit off :)

I really never would have imagined that I would have such a relationship with my pet. Never. And I have to say that I am a better person for having let myself open up to all she has to offer me. I know there is a perspective that exists in the world that says, "she's just a dog." That perspective is really sad to me. And to that I say, "If you think she's just a dog (whatever that means)...then you haven't met Arrow!"

I feel really lucky!

The Long night

Last night was a long one. Poor Boney was up all night (and so were the rest of us) throwing up. It started around midnight. At one point, about 15 minutes before it started, Sally said, "she's drooling." To which I said, "well, that's weird. I wonder why?" Then she started to smack her lips like she had peanut butter stuck on them. And I remember thinking, for a split second, "what does that mean when she does that?" And then almost at the same time, Sally and I remembered. Lip smacking, when not caused by peanut butter, means there's throw up not far behind. We both jumped off the couch running around looking for some piece of reading material that we had both finished reading to put under her mouth. Of course, Arrow will have none of that and she moves her head away from the "Health" magazine that Sally sacrificed and placed under her. Then, she also dodged the Target ad. I think by morning, she had thrown up 8 more times. Twice outside at 4:30 am. Yep - I got up with her.

This morning I called the hospital to find out if throwing up was a side effect of radiation. They said it was highly unlikely. Of course, my mind goes to a bad place and wonders if the tumor matastized to her belly. When they examined her to determine if the cancer spread, they only did a chest x-ray. That's because her tumor, when it metastizes, goes to nearby organs. In her case, that is the chest. Which is clear. The ER vet on the phone said to keep and eye on her and if she gets lethargic or has a swollen belly we should bring her in. It's been about 12 hours since the last abnormal bodily function so I think she's out of the woods. She still is staying on her hamburger and rice diet for a day or so. Sally and I are placing our bets on the greenie she ate at about 10 pm. We think that was the culprit.

Tomorrow, week 2 of treatment starts. By the end of the week, they said the burn will be inflamed and she'll be in some pain. They'll put her on etogesic, a pain med that she tolerates pretty well and I think they give us some ointment. She is already starting to lick the wound a little bit. To keep her from licking her stitches when she had surgery we put a shirt on her. She looked like this:

Isn't she adorable? We might have to play dress up again as the radiation continues.

She really is being a trooper. We are going to board her for two days this week, Wed. and Thur. night. It kills me to do that as she'll being feeling worse by then, but I don't think the 3 hour a day drive make her all that excited either. I think they treat her well there. I asked the Dr. if she get enough water while she's there because the first night I brought her home she seemed to drink a lot! He said they keep water in her cage and they change it FOUR times a day! Wow, did I feel like a slacker. She was in puppy day spa out there! Here, she gets fresh water twice a day AND has to share it with the kitties. Maybe its not so bad at Tufts....

Notice the collar in this picture. Her friend Gus gave her the "Livestrong" collar because she is a cancer survivor! How cute is that???

Week 1 is over!

Arrow has never liked my driving. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I ran into Sally's car in the driveway once when I was backing up a long time ago. Or maybe it was the time I got rear ended in Binghamton. Whatever the moment was when she became afraid of my driving, I can't really say. But it is rather obvious that she is much more settled when Sally drives than when I do. And add a trip to a hospital to the end of the ride and you have one not so happy puppy.

Sally drove Arrow out and back yesterday from her treatment. It is 77.5 miles from door to door (I clocked it out of boredom!). She called me and said that Arrow didn't really mind the drive. She was asleep the whole time both ways. Then she said she hardly shook at all when she went into the hospital. And when the vet tech came to take her into treatment she wagged her tail and went right up to her.

Here's what happened on my day: She sat up and turned herself around in the backseat trying to get comfortable AT LEAST 20 times in the first 30 miles of our trip. She finally stopped turning around, but she never did fall asleep. When we arrived at Tufts, with not even a minute to spare before her 9:30 appointment she walked in and immediately began to shake, and shake, and shake. When the vet tech came to get her, she did not wag her tail, she turned her head to me and looked at me with pleading eyes, as if to say, "please don't leave me. Why are you letting her take me away?" I gave her a pat on the head and told her she'd be OK and she would be coming home with me. And then I went outside.

The whole ordeal only took about 90 minutes and we were back on the road again. I did learn that a little anesthesia goes along way towards helping her sleep through my driving. She was asleep the whole way home. And radiation gives her gas. Let's just say I had to open the window a few times.

Tonight we celebrated one week of treatment finished. We made a chiminea outside so that we could symbolically "burn cancer." She liked it. But probably because she also got a hot dog!

True love

Five things I love about my dog:

• She looks at you and melts your heart with her soulful eyes.
• She nudges your hand so you'll keep petting her.
• She looks so stylish in her blue armband the animal hospital folks put on her today.
• She looks at you and you think she's telling you how much she loves you and then you realize she wants your hot dog.
• She loves us unconditionally.

Tomorrow is the end of Treatment Week 1! Yeah!!!!

Day 3: She's home

I picked Arrow up at about 6:30pm at the hospital. If anyone has ever watched ER vets on Animal Planet this place is just like that. First, I walked in and I couldn't help it. I cried when I asked for Arrow. I was also kind of like a kid in a candy store. "Where is she? Where's my dog?" Then I had to wait about 10 minutes. Here's what I saw.

First, when I arrive there are interns with a gurney out in the parking lot. They rolled it in with the dog it was intended for walking beside it. Apparently this dog had torn something - likely an ACL - for the second time. He was a cutie, but he was in for some rehab.

For anyone who thinks Booda is big -- he is a kitten compared to a real Maine Coon cat. Oh my God, there was one there going in for some kind of care whose head was almost as big as mine. I'm not kidding!

Next this woman comes in and she is carrying a cat that doesn't look so good. The woman has her (?) wrapped in a towel and the cat is kind of staring in space. The woman is sobbing. Just looking at her I start to cry again (I'm fragile these days). The ER people are on her before the door even closes. They ask her her name and what happened. Her answer, "The cat went through the washing machine!" Do you think it went through a full cycle? I can't imagine that it could survive that??

Finally, I see two people walking towards the door. It took two people to walk Arrow out because she had her bed, her bear, her food... But she came out the door and she looked pretty happy (or anxious - sometimes I can't tell). She went outside and peed right away and as soon as I opened the hatch of my car she was ready to get in. I had to stop her from jumping back there because the hatch wasn't good enough for her today! She was getting the back seat. She slept pretty much the whole way home.

Once she got here, she was pretty darn happy. It could be because she is home or it could be because she got a turkey burger. And a greenie. She picked up her skunk toy and tossed it around all frisky and ready to play. Beanie licked her head and as soon as she stopped Boney stuck her nose right into Beanie for more. She did NOT want her to stop. I think she missed Beanie.

All in all, she looks good. She's wicked thirsty and it looks like she's been crying -- that's my projection again, but the fur under her eyes is wet. I think they might cover her eyes during treatment or something. I'll have to ask about that. We re-arranged the furniture in the living room while she was away and I forgot to warn her. (That's Sally's way of working out her stress. We may have an addition my mid-Oct). But she seems to have settled right in -- she's now fast asleep on the floor.

Day 2

The house is really quiet. Sometimes I think the kitties are looking for Arrow, but I'm not sure. They are fighting more and I wonder if it's because Arrow's not here to stop them. She usually wimpers when they fight, letting them know that she's disturbed (that's a Linowski trait I think...)

At 5:oopm tomorrow I get to go pick her up! I'm totally excited and can't wait to see her. Sally will bring her back for treatment on Thursday morning and bring her home on the same day and I'll bring her in on Friday. Then we'll have the weekend to spend with her. We're trying to plan something to mark each week that she finishes treatment. Maybe we'll go on a special, low-key walk.

The Dr. called today at 4:30. They lost a few points today for two reasons. They were supposed to call us with an update and I didn't hear from them until the end of the day. And that was only after Sally called to ask them how she was doing. When the Dr. called, he referred to Arrow as a HE! Now I know he sees a lot of doggies, but it would be somewhat reassuring if he could get the gender of my dog right! It makes me wonder if he's radiating the right let? Am I too dramatic?

No really, they have been great and we feel good about the care she is getting. He did say that Arrow was eating and sleeping well and was getting used to being boarded. At first I listened to that and thought great! This won't be so bad, but then I quickly began to project on to her and thought, "I'm sure she's lonely. Are they taking her out enough? She doesn't have to pee in her little room does she?" I miss my little buddy. I think she gets to have a hot dog when she gets home :)