I Wasn’t Prepared for My Dog to Get Cancer

I thought we’d have more time

“I’m just really scared that when we take him in they’ll tell us he’s dying,” I confessed out loud to my husband.

“No.” He said. “This is just a leg thing.”

Our dog — an eleven-year-old Australian Shepherd, Border Collie mix named Jude — had been limping. He is very active and we figured he had injured himself playing and that it would heal on its own.

When it quickly got worse instead of better, we decided it was time to take him to the vet.

We just came out of a long and wet winter, and my focus and time had been on our new baby for most of it. I kept telling myself that as soon as the weather got better, I’d take the dogs (we also have a black lab mix) out for more walks and hikes.

The problem was, as soon as the weather got better he was limping.

The day before the vet appointment, I shared the same concern with my mom — that there was going to be something seriously wrong with him.

“He’s getting old,” she conceded. “But this is just a leg thing.”

My husband took him to the appointment. He knew I was worried, so he texted me updates.

They were pretty sure it was arthritis, which we could get medicine for. Oh no, I thought. That will be so hard for him to have to slow down.

Another text told me they were doing an x-ray to confirm arthritis and rule out bone cancer. I stayed busy cleaning up lunch and taking care of the kids.

When I saw my husband calling me not long after, my heart stuttered.

Bone cancer.

The tears were instantaneous.

The first line of treatment would be to amputate the affected leg in an attempt to stop the cancer from spreading. They could do it immediately, that day.

It didn’t look like his lungs were affected yet (that’s where it would spread next), but you can’t know for sure from the X-ray image. It did look like there could be some cancer in another leg as well.

That coupled with the discovery that he did indeed have arthritis also, gave us pause and we decided we wouldn’t do the amputation.

We pored through all of the information for the rest of that day. I think my go-to coping mechanism is to gather information. I revisited the option of amputation. I made a pros and cons list of every treatment option — both those to fight the cancer and those to simply make him comfortable.

If we decided to amputate, it probably wouldn’t extend his life unless we also did chemo. Even that wasn’t a guarantee, though. If we amputated he’d have more strain on his other arthritis limbs.

And if we amputated and the other leg did have cancer and go bad, then he’d be in an even worse situation.

I kept circling around it, but we kept coming back to the decision to make him as comfortable and happy as possible while letting the disease run its course.

We chose not to delay the inevitable or extend any suffering.

It hurts me to even type this now. But we will soon have to say goodbye to our sweet, loyal companion.

My husband says I had a mother’s intuition. Jude had been approaching old age, and while I was hoping for 2–3 more years with him, his mortality had been looming over me for some reason.

Knowing I had been struggling lately to give him as much attention as I’d like to with poor weather, a baby, three other kids, and another dog had kept me all the more worried.

When we had newborn lifestyle photos taken in our home after our baby was born, I insisted we take a family picture with the dogs. “In case they die soon,” I said jokingly, but seriously. “I want a picture while we have the whole family here.”

The morning of the vet appointment I was drowsy in bed, still waking up. Our four kids were piled on our bed. I’m not sure where the dogs were, but probably nearby. I said to my husband, “We’re so lucky that everyone is healthy and well.”

I was talking about the kids. But I wonder if the thought came to my mind because I was worried about Jude.

Every day now, I am overwhelmed with two truths — a sweet and a bitter.

He is still here.

He is dying.

My husband and I got him on our honeymoon when he was a six-week-old puppy. Our marriage has never really existed without him.

He’s been a part of our family since we started our family. My kids have never known life without our two dogs. They’ve lived with us in three separate homes.

I’ve said goodbye to family dogs growing up but never experienced this as the mom. Jude is my first personal dog. I’m not ready for the hole he will leave behind.

I know I’m grieving prematurely. It’s hard not to. That’s part of why I’m writing this, to get all of my thoughts and feelings out.

He continues to love so fiercely. He follows us around the house even though he is limping. He happily greets visitors.

He still wants to play and go for walks. We oblige, trying to take it as easy as we can so that his affected leg doesn’t get injured. He enjoys being outside and I’m so grateful it’s spring for him.

Every day he gets pain medicine and lots and lots of love. We are all happy for whatever time we have with him.

I enjoyed this article with memories of the writer’s dogs in her life: