The dreaded C-word

The dreaded C-word: CANCER. It's been a long time since I've blogged, and I've written so many posts that I haven't published. I've really missed blogging, and as I sit here typing this, I wish I was posting one of those other posts - posting about when Hush passed her Canine Good Citizen test, or posting about how cute it is that Milly licks Hush's ears after I clean them, how my two beloved Golden Retrievers have become inseparable best friends, how I've fallen in love with an amazing man, whom I now live with and we share our lives not just with each other, but also with our two goldens, and his toy poodle, Ally. Oh, how I wish I was posting one of those stories right now. But I'm not. Instead, I'm writing about how my beloved Milly has cancer.

Yesterday, was picturesque, to say the least. I woke up in the morning, early for me on a Sunday. Two of my dear friends, Eileen and Olivia came over, we packed a picnic and headed to Markham, VA for a day of sour cherry picking. We brought Milly, Hush, Ally, and Evan (Eileen's dog, and one of my dogs' best friends, especially for outdoor adventures). When we got to the Orchard we let all the dogs of their leashes, and they raced through the apple trees away from other cherry-picking-patrons, sniffing every leaf, joyfully rolling in the grass, catching a wiff of something in the air and darting off after a flying bird - in short, it was any dog's best day. We all commented on how great Milly looked, a picture of health and fitness - at 13 or so years, she can outrun Evan (a seasoned long-distance runner, and Eileen's companion as she trains for half and full marathons), Hush (just shy of two years old, her body is muscular and fit, as a retriever's should be - she's fast and has incredible endurance)... so it's truly amazing to see this geriatric dog joyfully racing at lightning speeds through the fields. It was a perfect day - warm, but not hot like DC June days tend to be. We picked cherries, we laughed, the dogs played. After, I headed home, grabbed a quick bite to eat and packed up my beach bag for a pool-party father's day cookout at the beau's father's house. My beach bag contained all the necessities: towel for me, two towels for the dogs, a ziplock baggy filled with freeze dried bison, and plenty of toys for both land and water. Milly again was filled with joyful energy as she darted across yard, begged for bites of everyone meals, and even took dip in the pool. You may remember, Milly fails as a water retriever - she doesn't like to play fetch, and she's not a fan of swimming... but, Hush who loves the water, has influenced Milly... slowly helping her gain confidence in the water - and for a few minutes Milly was happy to cool off in the pool.

When we got home we were all exhausted. We went to bed - the dogs conked out on the bedroom floor. In the middle of the night I woke up to Milly breathing heavily, making that tell tale noise all dog owners know as "my dog is about to puke!" Sure enough, up came some sort of food, and I groggily pulled myself out of bed to clean it up, make sure Milly had water, and went back to sleep thinking she must've gotten into some human food at the cookout. A few hours later, the above happened again, and I began to get a little worried. An hour later, the process was repeated for the third time - by this time Milly was breathing heavily, and I realized she had urinated all over the floor, and all over herself. Something was seriously wrong. I tried to get her to stand up, and she wouldn't. She just lay there, heavily panting. I couldn't get her to move, not even for treats. I checked her gums, they were somewhat pale and dry. Her heart seemed to be pounding faster than normal, her breathing was heavy, and her lower end was covered in urine. We picked her up and carried her to the car and raced to the vet. 

When I got to the vet a tech help me carry her inside, and took her vitals. My normal vet is on her honeymoon, so I saw someone else. The vet listened to her heart, it was beating fast. Listened to her lungs, they sounded wheezy. Her stomach was tender to the touch, and hard. Her lymph nodes were okay. Her gums were pale and dry. She was listless, depressed looking, panting heavily. The vet wanted to give her IV fluids, some strong anti-nausea medicine, run a complete blood work panel, and take x-rays of her chest. I was told it could just be a virus, it could be something more sinister like cancer or organ failure, it may be a blockage in her intestines... we wouldn't know until after the diagnostics. I left and went home, nervous, but hoping for something mild like a stomach virus. A few hours later, the vet called. Milly was feeling better - they'd gotten results of the blood work, and nothing was concrete. The blood work had abnormalities in it - liver count was off, white cells were a little off, etc. but nothing pointed to any one thing. Disconcerting, to say the least. The x-rays, however, proved more useful. From multiple angles a fairly large tumor was present on her lung. I was shocked. In all of Milly's years with me, she has been the epitome of health... and I don't mean healthy for an older dog, I mean healthy for any dog - young or old. 

Based on where the tumor is, it is unlikely the cancer started there - it more than likely has spread to her lungs from another part of her body. The vet reassured me there are options - there is a great oncologist nearby, we don't have to make any decisions right now. Or, based on her age we could simply treat the symptoms as they crop up - let her live out her days and keep her happy and comfortable, and enjoy the time I have left with her. The vet wanted to do an ultrasound, and I agreed to that - based on where the tumor is, we may even be able to biopsy it during the ultrasound. Milly could stay over night, and have the ultra sound in the morning, or I could come pick her up and bring her back. I chose latter. She's with me now, groggy, sleeping at my feet. Her breathing is loud, but she is happy and peaceful. I can't help but listen to every breath and wonder how many more I'll hear. 

So tomorrow I'll learn just how bad it is. How many days, weeks, or months she has left. I haven't completely decided, but I think based on her age, I'm not going to pursue chemotherapy and/or radiation I know she's a fighter - but I don't want to put her through that. Again, I haven't completely decided. Hopefully the ultrasound can help by giving us more answers that we can use to treat symptoms as they arise, and keep her comfortable and happy. I can't stop crying. I'm not ready to say goodbye, and despite her age, I never thought this day would come.
 

Time Flies When Your Having Fun!!!

It was September 2006, the weather was more like July, but my senior year of college had just begun when I adopted Milly. I broke every rule about adopting a dog on impulse, but I knew the moment I laid eyes on the sweet Golden Retriever that I would love her for the rest of her days. Since the moment I first saw Milly's big, brown, doe eyes looking up at me, I've known that we were meant for each other.

When I adopted Milly she was supposed to be younger than she actually was, by about 2-3 years. I'm glad I didn't know her actual age, because I might have turned her up for fear of future heart break if I'd thought my days with her would be limited. The first week I had Milly I made my most valiant effort to make her feel loved. That was all I cared about. I wanted her to feel like she had finally come home, and that she was safe with me. I let her sleep in my bed every night (okay, that went on for a full year), she was terrified of her food and water bowls, but I hand fed her every meal, she didn't know what to do with toys, but I encouraged her to play with lots of praise and treats.

When I look at Milly now, that seems like a life time ago. She knows exactly what she wants to do, when she wants to do it, and she makes her opinions clear. She gobbles down her food as soon as I present it to her; in fact, I now add water and fresh veggies to her meals to slow down her eating; she is very opinionated about what toys she will and will not play with (she loves plush toys with squeakers, but hates latex squeaky toys); she tells me when it's time to get up, or if she's bored and wants to play; she races to the door to retrieve her leash if she thinks the possibility of a car ride could be in her future. She is the ideal dog, she'll sit under my table at a restaurant with outdoor seating, she'll calmly ride the elevators, she'll wait for permission before exiting the grooming tub, she'll silently lay under my desk at work with her head on my feet when I'm really busy, and she'll look to me for reassurance that it's okay to lick a toddler. She's just perfect!

For the past three years, I've been told that Milly is a geriatric. I go with whatever it is the vet recommends for her care - I've started expressing her anal glands (gross, I know!) at home myself after the vet suggested it, I keep her on a loading dose of Cosequin DS and fish oil supplements, I brush her daily and stretch and massage her joints, I regulate her exercise to make sure she is getting neither too little nor too much, I continue to mentally and physically stimulate her in new and different places, and of course, I've added extra protein to her diet, as older dogs require more. But, she's never really shown any signs of old age. Sure, her muzzle has slowly become more filled with grey hairs, and she's a little stiffer about jumping into the car in the snow, but she really has been just the same dog I've always had!

That is, until recently. I woke up yesterday to Milly's normal nudges on my arm, and her normal morning wake-up calls, but I noticed something different. The medium golden coat that glistens in the sun has now become a white mask on her face. Her face is almost entirely white, now. Her body has numerous white hairs (yes, before she had the occasional grey hair) throughout it. She now is a bit slower to jump in the car, though she displays incredible athletisism, still. Milly also seems to be smarter than ever before!

I know the old adage, older is wiser, but I think it is really true. I've been working with Milly since I got her to walk on a loose leash, to not acknowledge and squirrels or birds we encounter on our saunters, and to respond when I ask her to do various commands. She's always been pretty good, but never perfect. She's always listened, but never been absolutely spot-on, and I've always needed to give her corrections.

Not anymore! It's like all of the sudden, the same day I realized her face is now entirely white, she is spot-on with every command! I used to walk her in a prong collar, but this week she's been flawless on the flat collar. She used to leap in the air and bark at squirrels, but now she simply perks her ears as if to say, "Hmmm, that's intersting, but not worth my time." Of course, Milly still eagerly runs to the leash rack if she thinks a walk is in her cards, but it seems as though she's wiser about it.

It's wonderful to watch my Milly age into such a dignified and wise dog, but at the same time I know in the back of my mind our days are somewhat limited. Perhaps, that is Milly's only flaw, that she will not live as long as me. I love her so dearly, and picturing my life with out her is virtually impossible.

I keep looking at her, and while, perhaps, I should let the fear of her mortality impact my emotions, all I can see is pride in my olden golden! I love her more than words can express, and she's teaching me a lot about life as I watch her wisen each day. It truly has been a blast to watch Milly age, and be with her through her life. She has certainly taught me about patience, love, dedication, hardwork, and playfulness. It's a blessing to have such a fun reminder telling me how to live my own life. She truly is a wise old lady!


Many of you know that I regularly bake my own dog treats. They're cheaper, they're healthier, and it's simply a fun activity to do! I love to bake, but I hate consuming those added calories, so baking for Milly is perfect for me. I own numerous doggie cookbooks, and over the years have tweaked and perfected my favorite recipes. Tonight, I made Doggie Peanut Butter Cookies and Grrrnola. Milly goes absolutely bonkers for these treats, and they're so much fun to make for her!

I highly recommend picking up the ugliest but best dog cookbook that has ever been written, "Homemade Treats for Happy, Healthy Dogs" by Cheryl Gianfrancesco.

Doggie Peanut Butter Cookies:

Ingredients:

• 2 cups of whole wheat flour
• 1 cup of peanut butter
• 1/4 cup of vegetable oil
• 1/2 teaspoon of salt
• 1 cup of wheat germ
• 1 egg
• 1/2 cup of water
  

Directions: Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Combine flour, wheat germ, and salt in a large bowl then mix in peanut butter, egg, oil, and water. Roll dough out onto a lightly floured surfact until about 1/2 inch thick. Then, cut out the biscouts using a cookie cutter (I use a dog themed cookie cutter. but any fun cookie cutter will work), or cut into squares (a pizza cutter works perfectly for this). Put the biscuits onto an ungreased baking sheet. Bake 15 minutes for the smaller sized cookies, and up to 35 minutes for the larger shaped ones. Store in the fridge... if they last that long!
Grrrnola: Oat-nola for doggies

Ingredients:

• 1.5 cups of quick-cooking oats
• 1.2 cup of wheat germ
• 1.2 cup of unsalted sunflower seeds
• 1.2 cup of pure honey
• 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil
• 3/4 cup of Carob Chips (optional)

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 325 F. Grease a baking sheet. In a large mixing bowl, combine all ingredients; mix well.
2. Spread the mixture onto the prepared baking sheet. Bake for 25 minutes; let cool.
3. Transfer the Grrrnola to a resealable plastic bag and crush into small pieces.
   

You can freeze both of these treats for longer shelf life.

I promise to post the giveaway soon! I've found the camera cord, but wanted to wait until I secured one more item for it! Stay tuned!!!

I FOUND A LUMP ON MILLY

I've been hesitant to post about this until I find out what exactly is going on, but decided the entire purpose of this blog is a learning experience, and my readers are along for the ride as I learn everything I possibly can about dogs.

Most of you know I live in Arlington, VA, two stop lights from Washington, DC, and may have seen on the news we've been slammed with snow - I measured 28 inches in my front yard before the snow stopped falling, and we're supposed to get another 18-20" before 9pm tomorrow night! All of this snow has forced me to spend a lot of time in the house with Milly, and she has loved all of the attention.

A few days ago my boyfriend was petting her and noticed a lump on just above her shoulder. It's about the size of my thumb nail, and firm to the touch. It does not appear to cause her any discomfort when I press on it. Of course, I panicked! Cancer is a documented disease in dogs, and the large Golden Retriever population (consistently ranked one of the top five most popular breeds in the country) makes cancer that much more prevalent in Goldens. That being said, older dogs are known to develop harmless warts, and other benign growths, especially Goldens.

The odds are in my favor, Milly is a geriatric (don't tell her that, I think she missed the memo), and at an age when dogs develop all sorts of benign fatty tumors, growths and other cysts, but even knowing this, I still want to get it checked out. Normally, by now Milly would have been seen by the vet, but the snow is putting a major damper in that plan! It took three days just to dig my car out, and I had to go into work today, so the vet appointment will have to wait.

I thought I had a commitment with Junior League tonight, but I got the days wrong, and the commitment is tomorrow. As soon as I click "Publish Post" I'll be calling my vet to see if I can get a last minute appointment, otherwise I'll wait until after Snowmageddon Round II, and go at the end of the week.

I touch Milly all the time. I make a point to physically go over her at least every other day looking for any bumps, lumps, cuts, or burrs in her coat. I check inside her mouth weekly, paying special attention to her gums. When she's out in the yard I make a point of watching her movement at the walk and trot at least once a week. She's an older dog, and doing this will help me notice any signs of arthritis or joint problems she may develop as she continues to age.

Even with all of my touching and checking I missed this lump. If you don't already go over your dog at least weekly, I reccomend starting to do so. If this lump were to turn out to be the dreded C-word, which I really don't think it is, I will have caught it early, and the odds of successful treatment will be in our favor. If it isn't the dreaded C-word, it will be something my vet can aspirate and keep an eye on at each of Milly's semi-annual senior exams. There are some things we simply cannot prevent in our dogs, but knowing what is normal and what is abnormal in your individual dog will enable you to see signs and red flags of potential health problems. Catching things early, or even before they develop is critical.

Protect Your Senior Dog From Injury with a Dog Ramp!!

One of the challenges I am starting to have with Milly is her difficulty getting in and out of trucks or SUV’s and on and off my bed. Milly is 10ish, and as she has aged I have fed her Cosequin, a joint supplement, as a daily preventative, but accessing high objects has become more difficult for her. This worries me, because I have read that jumping on and off high objects like a truck, high bed or grooming table can lead to serious injuries and really damage joints, especially in large breeds.

Last spring Milly and I took a ride in the bed of a truck – normally I would never allow her to ride lose in a truck bed, but in this instance we were going no more than 5mph and I was riding with her – when I asked her to “kennel up” (her command to jump into a car) she jumped and then started to fall. I immediately wrapped my arms around her to catch her, but in my haste and worry forgot that two years ago I had shoulder surgery and could no longer lift her, she came crashing into my face and I fell onto the ground with 68 lbs of Golden Retriever on top of me. Milly was fine, and apart from a very swollen, bruised and bloody nose, I was too. This was the first instance where I thought, “she’s really aging.”

Since our truck incident I have been extremely cautious with Milly jumping in-and-out of vehicles or onto high furniture. I often make my boyfriend lift her into any SUV, and even then I’m still worried. I have thought a lot about dog ramps, as they seem like the logical choice in addressing Milly’s aging body and enabling her, a geriatric dog, to safely get in-and-out or off-and-on cars and furniture without Bill or I having to lift her, and with no stress to her joints. What intrigues me most about a dog ramp is it will work for Milly to safely go on-and-off the bed as well as in-and-out of the car – so it is versatile.

I stumbled upon this YouTube video that shows a senior dog trying out two different dog ramps from Pet Gear.

In this video you see a senior dog getting used to the Pet Gear Tri-Fold ramp as well as a smaller indoor ramp. The tri-fold ramp gives the dog easy access in and out of an SUV, while the indoor ramp will help him climb onto his owner’s bed.

Overall, I would recommend that anyone with a large breed dog use a ramp as a preventative to injury, but this is especially critical with senior dogs. I am going to look into how hard it would be to build my own ramp, and if that proves too difficult I will either be purchasing pet stairs or a ramp for Milly to help protect her from injury when accessing a vehicle or furniture. I have no desire to take and chances when I know there are safe alternatives available.