June 5, 2020.

11.5 weeks post-amputation.

Today I learned that the majority of dogs have to be euthanized. Of all the dogs that have been in my life, I have never had to experience this.

My parents gave our first dog, Angel- an English Mastiff, to a rescue when we moved from California to Oregon. Our second dog, Stoli, was hit by a car before he reached his first birthday (thanks to my father). And our yellow lab, Sonny, died peacefully in his sleep as an old man under a walnut tree. My heart cannot fathom the idea that one day I am going to have to make the decision to end her life.

Akeela had her fourth visit with our Pain Management Specialist, Dr. Downing, today. I asked her how most dogs with cancer die. Regrettably, she informed me that most dogs have to be euthanized. The chance of her peacefully dying in her sleep is very unlikely. That said, she may not die from cancer. For a dog her age and breed, she may actually die from kidney failure. In all cases, it sounds like I will at least have time to prepare. And although their lifespan is never guaranteed, Dr. Downing is hopeful to believe that Akeela has quality life left in her. And that is all that I can ask for.

Although let’s be real … I tell myself every day that she has at least two years left.

We are upping Akeela’s Gabapentin intake slightly, to keep her blood levels from peaking and causing her to have episodes of discomfort between doses. She now takes 5,600 mg per day in addition to her daily dose of Amantadine, Carprofen, Proin, Yumove and Senilife. She takes a combination of medication 3xs a day and will for the rest of her little dog life. Fortunately, she rarely ever lets out her scream/yelps of pain anymore. You know, the high pitch, blood curdling sound that will haunt me until I die. I believe I’ve mentioned it before.

She has her fourth and final dose of chemotherapy next Wednesday. When we first started chemo, the Oncologist mentioned that there is another medication that we can start after her 4th round. Apparently it has been proven to slow down the growth of cancer cells. Some dogs have lived up to two years with a combination of this medication + chemotherapy. Although, as always, nothing is guaranteed with cancer. If we don’t move forward with the additional medication, then it will just be a waiting game. Metastasis in the lungs or no metastasis. Normally it’s just a matter of when. So if this drug has any chance of postponing the cancer that’s consuming her from the inside, then I am all-in.

She was reunited with her boyfriend last week for the first time since her surgery. It was underwhelmingly anticlimactic. We expected a grand reunion, but instead, they simply said hello with a quick nose-touch and then resumed with their regular activity of grass sniffing. Towards the end of the night, he did start licking around her incision and toe staples. It was actually quite endearing. There was no tug-of-war, leaping, zoomies, or body hurdling that evening. And I don’t know if there ever will again.

She isn’t the same dog that she was before surgery. There’s no doubt about that. We can barely walk around the block before she’s ready to pass out under a tree in the closest yard that she can find. I’ve seen lots of dogs go on hikes and ruff-house with their friends after amputation … but I just don’t think that’s going to be the case with Akeela. I think the next chapter (or hopefully chapters) of our lives will to be a bit slower than we anticipated. No more hiking – her all time favorite activity. No more runs through the neighborhood. No more playing like a rabid animal with her boyfriend.  And that’s just how life goes.

Despite all of this, I will still find ways to life her spirits. She only has a few years left so I am determined to make them her best. For starters, I moved into a new house last week, and she will be living with her boyfriend. We have a very lush green backyard with all the best smells (and also a slight rabbit infestation). I also recently purchased a lavish dog stroller from Chewy. She may not be able to walk to the park by our new house, but nothing will stop me from rolling her there! Stroller should arrive by next week, so I’ll be sure to inform ya’ll how it works for us.

And lastly – there’s a very important topic that I’ve been thinking a lot about. Our world has experienced some scary and unfortunate things over the past couple of months. Covid19, quarantine, murder hornets (wtf), and the Black Lives Matter/police brutality movement. I have always been a huge supporter of peaceful protests. I participated in my first one when I was 16 years old in front of the Courthouse in my hometown. I believe they are an incredibly important resource to use for strengthening human rights.

I would love to be a part of the protests that are happening all around me. I want to be there supporting my fellow activists. Because that is how you make change happen. Every day I hear stories about people being brutalized and jailed during these peaceful protests. Normally I would have no problem with taking that kinds of risk. But now I have someone else to consider before I make a decision like that.

Nobody loves Akeela as much as I do. And nobody is as in-tuned to her signals as I am. What if something were to happen to me? What if I was harmed/impaired, or even temporarily jailed? Who would ensure that Akeela’s medications are given to her 3xs a day? Who would wake up in the middle of the night to console her when she has an episode? Who would empty their bank account to ensure that she lives in a world of discomfort? Who would dedicate their life to ensuring that she is happy? Who would do any of these things without feeling resentment towards her? The answer is nobody. Nobody is capable of giving her the love and devotion that I give her. And nobody is as in-tune to recognizing her signs of pain and discomfort as I am.

So I guess I’ll sit this one out for now…. begrudgingly. And when my vet bills become more infrequent and less bankrupty (which thank the dog-gods they finally are), I will be able to donate to the organizations that need help most during these times of tragedy.

Because since Akeela’s surgery, my life is different now too.

Until next time – stay safe out there.