We just returned from 2 1/2 weeks in the southern California mountains and deserts. What a wonderful break from the snows and rains of this area. In fact, our timing was so good, we missed the torrential rains that caused the flooding and avalanches.
The first portion of our trip was more urban. My husband had to work a few days and we wanted to visit our nephew before he deploys. Both occasions placed us in big California cities. Lucy was quite sick during this period—lots of vomiting and phone calls to the specialty vet back home. We took her off the doxycycline for her nose and that helped, but didn't completely solve the issue. A type of chew that I've given her for years also seemed to upset her stomach, so that was also removed and her energy and well-being improved.
When her health was assured, we got her back to running with us, and though it usually wasn't daily, she did manage every other day. We kept her distance within 7 miles. She loved it! Happy! Spunky! Raring to go! One of the downsides of the desert were burrs from cactus. Not a good mix on dog feet. We had to be very vigilant where we took her and to check her paws carefully during and after. The picture is taken at Mt. Shasta. In January, the trail was covered in dry oak leaves. Lovely!
Surprisingly, or maybe not considering we were in dry deserts, her nose seemed to clear up—even off the doxy. There was still the reverse sneezing and some hacking, but not the constant goobery schnoz.
We returned to cold, damp, foggy weather. Lucy's nose immediately reacted. Constant. And her health went rapidly down hill. From being energetic and running miles, suddenly she wasn't eating or wanting to go on walks. When I got home from work and she didn't even raise her head from her bed, I knew something was horribly wrong. Pneumonia again?
I took her to the vet two days ago and got the results yesterday. I won't hear about pneumonia or not until I get those results today, but yesterday was awful—she has lymphoma. The vet said doing nothing, she might live a couple of weeks to a month; with prednisone, I could double that; with chemo, perhaps a year. The vet gave her some antibiotics while there and that seemed to revive her. For the first time in days, she ate and wanted to go on a walk.
All the "cure" methods are limited; the cancer isn't going away. The chemo would involve weekly vet visits with 1/2 hour drips—and that would be for 6 months or more. Lucy is going on 12 and hates the vet. (Who could blame her? She's spent so much time there in the past 2 years!) We don't want to make her miserable by constant vet visits, even if it might prolong her stay with us. I'm willing to do the prednisone. The vet said it could put the cancer temporarily into remission, but prednisone has its own downside.
When my husband returns tonight, we'll talk about which options we want to pursue. It's awful playing the Final Arbitrator in someone else's life. Although we'd love Lucy to live years and years, we'd want those years to be healthy, happy years. If her time is now, we need to be able to graciously and lovingly allow her to comfortably enter it.
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