Jazz on chemo, age 3
Yesterday morning I was reading a story in the New York Times Well Blog about one man’s journey with the cancer treatment of his beloved dog. Boy it brought back a flood of memories for me.
Anyone who knows me knows what a dog lover I am. I bring my dog to work, and just about everywhere else that I go. I decided to briefly share my similar story in a comment on the NY Times Blog and while writing it my eyes started to tear up. My dogs sure move me and I thought I’d share some of my story here with you, my blog friends. It’s also a great chance for me to show you some pictures of my beloved pets too.
The New York Times article is titled Chemotherapy For Dogs. My comment on the post :
Oh this brings back memories of my first beloved great dane. He developed a ‘large cell’ tumor at the age of 2 years. It developed 8 weeks after a routine vaccine, at the vaccine site. He had always had some immune issues, suffering from chronic rashes – probably from the genetic fragility you allude to due to breeding. I loved this dog and we did chemo. Well, the side effects included the usual intestinal misadventure and with a large dog that means a big mess. It’s also hard to get a large ill dog into and out of the car. We did it for months until he was in obvious pain, his quality of life gone and I know in nature he would have given up. It still brings tears to my eyes just to write this.
My first dane, Jazz was a blue dane. I raised him from a puppy. He was beautiful, intelligent and all about me; I was his person, no doubt about it. His cancer happened young and took him quickly. We put up a valiant and painful fight.
Rembrandt, my second dane
My second great dane I adopted as an adult. At the age of 3 he was a retired champion show dog and a true gentle giant…. and I mean a giant. He weight anywhere from 165 to 190 lbs in his prime, and was stunning. Anywhere we went we attracted a crowd, and yes, I took him everywhere! He turned out to be my dog soul mate. He stayed healthy until about age 7 when he developed an autoimmune disease. We missed that bullet thanks to a brilliant veterinarian, but oh boy his medicine dose was like nothing I’ve ever seen before! He required 3 times the dose of a human man because at 190lbs his weight combined with the apparent dog super-metabolism meant he burned through the drug. He had another 2 years of vitality until he suddenly developed lumbosacral syndrome and back leg paralysis. I wasn’t going to give up on him though. We tarped off the kitchen and gave him hospice care, including carrying him outside 3 times a day in a huge sling for months. Finally the day came when I knew know that in nature he would have given up. He was 9 years old when I had to put him down. Again, just typing this story chokes me up; I still miss him dearly.
Rubio as a puppy
Insanely, I’m still sticking with pure breeds; please tell me I’m not just a glutton for sorrow. I do know the genetic risks, but even the mixed breeds suffer cancer and the like. Because I’m at least becoming more practical, I’ve moved to a breed that weights 100lbs less. (I’ll never again underestimate how hard it is to provide oncology inpatient and hospice care to the giant breeds!) Oh I do hope my current dog fares well in this life.
His name is Rubio and he’s a white standard poodle, but a small one at about 50lbs. In true poodle form he’s very fond of himself and oh what a comedian! I shared some pics of his out of character ‘study of mud’ in a previous post A Poodle Mud Mask Facial
Rubio goes to work with me everyday just like my dogs have for years. He’s an alpha ‘wanna be’ so he has to stay in the back office near my desk during patient hours. If you look down the hall on the left, you’ll see him looking back at us during an office photo shoot. No shrinking violet this dog. 
I’ve had other dogs too, in fact I’ve had a dog all of my life except for college and early medical school. I have so many memories of heart warming and hilarious dog stories that still make me smile years later. Yes, their lives our shorter than ours, meaning we’re pretty much guaranteed occasional periods of mourning complete with all the Kubler Ross stages of grief. But oh the good times are sooo wonderful - I do love my dogs!
What a great post and gorgeous pictures. I always thought of myself as a dog person, but now I seem to have two cats with fairly dog personalities—due to living in a city that doesn’t let you have dogs in many places. One of them is a total diva and reminds me a little of your descriptions of Rubio. I have a hard time getting a picture of Ziggy because Fiona virtually pushes him aside or jumps in front every time I have the camera out. I cannot even imagine a day without them, but you are right, it is totally worth whatever time you do have with them. I wish Rubio a very long life!
A composite dog is a dog that’s made up of all the valuable qualities that’s in the dog breed–kind of a syndicate; and a mongrel is made up of the riffraff that’s left over.
- Mark Twain in Eruption, p. 222. Used in “His Grandfather’s Old Ram” speech.
Lamenting that their lifespans are so short, my mother speculated that perhaps God made it that way because while we survive their loss, ours would be much harder for them to bear because their capacity for love and devotion is so much greater than ours. It comforts me to think of it this way. I wish the same for you.
That’s amazing, I describe Rubio to people as a cat-dog! You really got him from my short description. I love the web! I didn’t mention that when I couldn’t have a dog in college and med school I had cats. Someone left a cat on my college campus and we students let him in the dorm (which was not allowed, so it was very stealthy) You’d see the cat in someone’s dorm window and it was such a cozy sight. We all took turns. I ended up keeping the cat after graduation and took it to Louisiana with me. I had another cat there too that was my soul mate cat. Both died too young, one hit by the New Orleans Street Car of all freak things and the other died of a medical emergency when I was on call for cardiology during my internship and at the hospital for a straight 48 hours. I came home to the horrible situation. I still am upset about that after 30+ years. Oh these pets, they break our hearts but I wouldn’t not share my life with them just to avoid the pain of their loss. Thanks for your story! Cheers
I’ve been Dr. Bailey’s patient for many, many years and have always loved having her dogs in the office….on many levels. (1) for my enjoyment of them (2) for experiencing how much she loves and cares for them (3) makes me think about something besides myself. I also enjoyed the neighborhood cat who stops in each day on his rounds for a bite to eat and a satisfying ear rub.
Oh, what a treat to receive your comment! I teared up again today talking w/ my staff about the dog pics in the post of those beautiful ones that have passed away. We all love them here. Have a lovely weekend
Thank you for that thought. I love the dog optimism and enthusiasm, including for life’s mundane tasks; oh boy it’s morning and time to get up, oh boy we’re going out the door, oh boy we’re going in the door, oh boy we’re going down the hall, oh boy I see my same old toy…..
Such nice stories of your dogs! I just subscribed to your blog last month when I stumbled upon it while researching seborrheic dermatitis on the face (yes, your zinc soap cured it!). I love dogs, too, and have my granddog (my son’s dog Shar Pei / Yellow lab mix) sleeping right next to my desk this very moment. Sad that they cannot live their entire lives with us, but they make life so joyful while they’re here. Thanks for sharing!
Donna,
Thanks too for giving me happy feedback on the soap.
Cheers, Cynthia Bailey MD
I’ve never had a dog–my father didn’t like any pets at all. Filthy beasts, he called them!
My husband and I have been cat people all our married lives. At the moment we have two. A young twerpy male with tons of personality and charm, and the sweetest, dearest almost 15 year old little old lady cat who has recently forgotten what the litter box is for–or has decided it just isn’t
for her anymore. We love her to bits and pieces, and yes–it’s remarkable the lengths we’ll go to for our pets (fur kids), be they 190# canines or 6# felines.
I remember each of your dogs….. And I remember your anguish over the shot site cancer as if it were yesterday. My eyes get wet when I think of it.
Thanks for sharing all this.
We canine/feline fans share a lot.
Thanks for your story too, I love the idea that the little old lady might bring it upon herself to decide that the letterbox ‘it just isn’t for her anymore’. I like that mental image of her just deciding to suit herself at 15. Cheers!
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