I lost a doberman to osteosarcoma, and I’ve known a few greyhounds with it. Frannkly, with bone cancer, I’d euthanize. Depending on the grade, mets are probable, even if you don’t see them. I don’t think there’s usually a great outcome after treatments.
With Jake, I gave him the best time I could (he didn’t have an unhealing fracture, like your dog) and the last day of his life, he was up chasing motorcycles passing the front yard. That afternoon, he laid down and seemed to get weak. I took him to the emergency vet to have him euthanized, because he was fading, but he died in my lap, waiting for the vet. That’s how he would’ve wanted to go, with my arms around him.
These decisions are always searing (if they’re not, something’s wrong). I try to assess based on the animal as an individual – history, personality, quality of life before the illness as well as expectation after treatment, and I have gone both ways in different circumstances.
At the end of this past June, my little dog Simone, who was already in slowly-declining health from a degenerative neurological condition, suffered a constellation of different additional conditions at the same time. We were able to make her temporarily comfortable at the vet, which gave us some time to think and assess without the pressure of seeing her suffer. Simone was my alter-ego and bestest buddy, and letting her go was heartbreaking, but when our vet compassionately laid out a proposed treatment plan that projected a great deal of time in slow recovery merely in order to clarify the diagnoses of her more serious conditions, I knew two things: Simone would have willingly borne up under it if I asked her to, and I would not ask her to do so.
I am lucky that in her case the choice was relatively clear and there were fewer uncertainties.
Simone had lived her whole life (almost 11 years) with her slow neurological progression. She gradually lost the ability to quickly assess situations and decide on courses of action, and would often take some time to make up her mind on things. She also had difficulty controlling her back legs. Taking her outside required significant patience. But she was comfortable and happy, and spent all her time with me, gazing fondly at me and sighing happily when touched. So her quality of life up and until the final crash seemed worthwhile.
If I were you, my decisions would be strongly influenced by your assessment of your girl’s life before this illness and what she can expect afterward. Maybe she’d be a dedicated couch cuddler, maybe she’d pine to sprint after rabbits (real or imagined). Only you and your family can guess at whether any given treatment plan would be worth it to her.
I haven’t seen anyone suggest this, but is it possible to get a biopsy before amputation? If it isn’t cancer, then amputation and post-treatment could provide a good quality of life for a good while. If it is cancer, you can then decide whether surgery and chemo is worth the added time you’ll have together. If it were me, I’d want to avoid putting my sweetheart through surgery only to discover we have another agonizing decision to make.
Whatever path you take, you have my deepest sympathies. Someone once told me, we don’t deserve the grace dogs bring to our lives.
That would be the normal sequence. In this case, though, her leg has recently fractured at the weakened tumor site and is being precariously held together by a plate in her leg that repaired a previous break in her leg. The determination is that the leg needs to go regardless, because the new fracture has only a small chance of healing as is, cancer or not.
Thanks for that.
A quick update: She is rapidly getting worse. There is fluid accumulating in her leg and she has lost all verve. I am seeing an oncologist tomorrow to review the info that we have so far in order to get a better prognosis of the situation.
I’m so sorry to hear this. We were facing some major issues with our 13 year old Keeshond, and I had a long talk with the vet about his recommendations. For instance, she has a cataract in each eye, which we elected to leave alone. She’s pretty much lost her hearing, except for the loudest noises. She had a large tumor on her rear paw, which, thankfully, disappeared on its own.
Whatever you decide, I’m sure it will be the best for your dog.
These furballs steal your heart away for years, but it gets so difficult at the end.
Does she still have that spark in her eye? Does she still spend a great deal of her day being active and alert? That would be my guide. If she’s spending most of her time snoozing in bed already, then I think euthanasia would be my choice. If she’s still vibrant and vital, then I’d amputate and give her a few more years.
Been there with my 5 year old beagle, Copper. He was diagnosed with liver cancer, and we took him home and doted on him until he could no longer hold down food, and the spark went out of his eyes. Then we took him on one last walk and euthanized him.
The oncologist and radiologist who reviewed her case could not concretely confirm the cancer diagnosis based on the x-rays, nor could the integrity of the bone be clearly determined. The existence of her leg plate was making things unclear. The cancer odds were redefined as “most likely” instead of “definitely” and what looked like a bone fracture could have just been an anomaly–they could not tell.
I decided to schedule surgery to have the plate removed so that the status of the bone could be more clearly determined and a true biopsy could be performed. As they were prepping for that procedure they took new x-rays and also ending up taking a needle biopsy. In the two and half weeks between x-rays, the growth on her leg had grown significantly and there were signs that it had already spread to other areas. They had little doubt that it was cancer and estimated that she would have about two months to live even with an amputation. I requested that that they just put her down.
She was an absolute sweetheart. I am just glad she is free of pain. I will miss her greatly.
I’m so sorry, JKilez. You both fought the good fight. Take time to heal then go get another friend–there are too many out there. One of them is calling your name.
I’m sorry, too, Jkilez. You did everything you could for her. You gave her a good life and made her happy. In the end, you did the noblest thing of all by taking away her pain.
