What else could I do? I arrived at work one day in mid-October to see an old dog with a very large growth on his shoulder greeting my co-workers. I work with some good dog-loving people, but none of us were in a position to take him in. I felt sick and sad, faced with the dilemma of what to do.
I went to my desk and said a quick prayer that somebody would be able to help him. Rarely is a request answered so quickly. My boss walked in and offered to pay the bill if somebody could take him to the vet for an assessment. Within minutes I disappeared to my house then reappeared with a spare collar and leash.
The vet said his tumor was too big to safely remove. "Maybe if someone would have brought him in when it was 1/4 this size." It already spread too far. There were nerves, muscles, and important blood vessels involved. Even if they could remove it, there might not be enough good skin left to close the wound and he already has growths in other places.
The good news was that the bald patches on his back were from fleas. And although having a large tumor on your shoulder is obviously uncomfortable, he was not miserable. They gave him a flea pill and pain med sample and warned that it could be hard to find someone to foster him.
Luckily, "Smokey" got along with my dog and didn't care about the cats. His only complaints with my home were that he doesn't like dog food and he doesn't like the name that I hastily picked so the vet wouldn't record his name as "Stray."
So we changed his name to "Mister" and cooked hard-boiled eggs, ground turkey, or chicken to go with each of his meals. (cooking a big batch every few days and warming it up in the microwave at mealtimes)
What's it like to foster a dog with a massive tumor?
Mister's past is a mystery. We think that somebody tried to take care of him once upon a time. He had pretty good manners, and he thought it was very rude of us to keep offering bowls of dog food. But he was hungry, so he reluctantly ate. It was very clear that he would rather have sandwiches, blueberry muffins, or even cheetos.
My daughter and I felt an awkward need to explain him to anybody who walked by. I seriously considered attaching a printout to my fence to let everybody know that he was already sick when we got him and he was under veterinary care.
Mister slept a lot the first few days. But once he was rested up, his true character started to show. (Thank you Cindy for donating money for his very own pet bed!🧡)
Mister loved his walks. Although he couldn't make it far, he usually wanted to keep going. Once he realized that our home was his home, he quickly took over the roles of defending our yard from squirrels and greeting neighborhood dogs as they approached the fence.
Chasing Kitty Max!
My heart raced the time Mister chased our cat halfway across the backyard! I knew Kitty Max would be able to outrun him, but I needed to know that this dog would behave if he managed to corner a cat in the house.
"NO SIR! We do not chase the kitty cats at this house!" I yelled, and Mister redirected his run toward my other dog. He proudly lifted his head and let out a bark, as if he was telling my dog what fun it is to chase little furballs across the yard.
Mister's eyesight didn't seem to be very sharp. I think he heard something coming over the fence and thought he was chasing a squirrel. Over the following weeks, I watched Mister go from ignoring our cat to the two of them greeting each other with a friendly sniff as they crossed paths.
Such a sweet dog
Mister was a sweet boy who knew he deserved the most comfortable seats in the house. If you were in the seat he wanted, he would just stand and stare for a while, hoping you would get up soon so he could take his turn.
Sometimes he would grab the cat food bowl and take it to the couch for a snack. I never had a dog carry the food dish before and it still makes me smile every time I think of it.
I think the thing that I will remember most is Mister's smile. I wish I had more videos to remember the happy times. But Mister was not one to show his mischief or enthusiasm on command. I do have one cherished clip of his wagging his tail at the fence with our dog and our neighbor's dog.
Things were good for a while. But we knew they wouldn't last long.
WARNING: THE REST OF THIS ARTICLE GETS GRAPHIC. SKIP TO COMMENTS IF YOU WISH.
I was amazed at Mister's progress after he caught up on some sleep. A soothing bath improved his "dirty old dog" stench and helped with the itching. (Soothing as in good for his skin. - That dog did not like his bath!)
For a while it looked like he was gaining strength and really enjoying life! But I knew this happy time would not last long. So many articles mention dogs living about 2 months after a diagnosis of cancer and with how big his tumor was, I could only assume that he had already used up most if not all of that time.
Although the bath helped, we didn't dare to attempt scrubbing all the bad smells away. I was pretty sure his tumor was oozing a little. But it was hard to tell if the ooze was from a minor injury or from his skin being stretched so tight.
Almost two weeks in, Mister had a bad day. He snapped at a friend for reaching in his food bowl. He cried at the end of our walk. And that night he got in a fight with my dog, Leah. There was some spilled cat food a few minutes before, but I thought they ate it all before I left the room. I even brought Leah with me so Mister could get some rest. But she went back.
Maybe they found a missed kibble, or maybe Mister fell on Leah and they both thought they were under attack. Either way, I rushed toward the growls and found a bloody mess that briefly made me wonder if I was wrong for bringing him home. But no, caring for Mister was never a bad choice. Everybody is entitled to a bad day and I am glad we did not give up that night.
Don't get me wrong. Any dog fights that involve biting are bad! But I don't think either of them would have required more than a squirt of peroxide and goop of Neosporin if the skin over his tumor wasn't already stretched so tight. They were cautious of each other the next day but neither was unfriendly toward the other.
Mister gets a t-shirt!
A few days later Mister tore open another spot as he walked by a cardboard box. Another big bloody mess and another trip to the vet for bandages to stop the bleeding. This time the vet suggested I put him in a t-shirt so he wouldn't chew the bandages off.
From that day on Mister wore bandages and a t-shirt. One vet warned that his tumor was ulcerated and we might not be able to stop the bleeding. There were times that it looked like we were getting close to being able to take off the bandages so he could breathe easier. But then he would trip or bump into something and I would see the blood coming through his bandage again.
The t-shirt and bandages did help keep Mister warm. He went from shivering in the 50-something degrees to asking for early morning walks. We had a few chilly walks that last week. But I usually just told him it's too cold and we could go at lunchtime.
Days before the vet thought we could finally officially take the bandages off, Mister got excited on a walk which ended up turning into a run. The simple motion of running was enough to make his tumor bleed again. But I have to say, Mister looked so happy and so free as his ears flopped in the wind. I think it was a good way to start his last week. I am glad we went for that run while he was able.
Coming to an end
That day we went for a run was a good day.
He was sore the next day so we gave him the extra pain meds I requested from the vet. We got his bandages changed and put him in a new shirt. He got lots of compliments. Apparently black was his color.
In the days that followed his appetite was good but he started to smell awful! Even my dog who seems to take delight in all things stinky wouldn't go near anywhere that he had left a puddle.
I took Mister to the vet to rule out infection. He tried to bite them for attempting to get a urine sample, which I easily collected as soon as he found a suitable patch of grass. ... His urine was clean. The smell was leaking from his tumor. There was nothing they could do.
But Mister was still eating and drinking. He still wanted pets and walks. He was grumpy after our trip to the vet. I brought my other dog, Leah, to work so Mister could get a good nap. He had climbed on my bed and was all smiles when we returned.
The smell was awful, but love is a powerful thing. I decided that I could handle a smell that once upon a time would have made me sick to my stomach. I encouraged him to sleep on a towel in my room so that my family would not have to smell him as strongly. I even cuddled this stinky dog and called him a good boy when he decided to take a nap on my pile of clean clothes.
Saying Goodbye
Mister woke up the next morning, ready for his breakfast as usual. He wagged his tail but he didn't look as happy. He was up a large portion of the night licking his tumor.
I do not think that Mister was miserable yet. But we were pretty sure that his quality of life was going down quickly. I fixed his breakfast and we took him for a walk. I asked for the morning off work so we could talk to the vet about if it was time to have him put to sleep.
They could not tell me what to do. As they said, I am the one who has spent the last month with Mister. They know that he has been less energetic these last visits, and they can see that his tumor has grown, but I am the one who sees how much his quality of life has really changed.
So I made a really hard decision. Do we keep on going, hoping for a few more good days? Or do we let him go before he is truly miserable? I decided to have him put to sleep before things got any worse.
The What-Ifs of Hindsight
So many thoughts raced through my mind those last two days. What if this most recent bandage was causing an infection? What if Mister just needs some antibiotics? What if Mister's life is still worth living and I have no right to decide when he should go?
What if I don't have him euthanized today and tonight is totally miserable for him? What if he has to suffer for hours or days because I do not want to make this decision? What if I put my family through the stress of watching him continue to deteriorate and he doesn't even benefit from it?
I never had to decide when it was time to put a pet down before. And I dread ever having to make this decision again.
Would I do it again?
Absolutely, 100%, in a heartbeat. If I could have known what life would be like with Mister, I would have welcomed him with open arms and cherished each moment that much more.
Will I really do it again? A serious assessment
Loving a dog that you know doesn't have much time left is hard. Emotionally and physically. I don't know how many more nights I would have been able to cheerfully coax him outside for potty breaks before exhaustion set in.
Everything took so much longer with Mister. Feeding time, walks around the block, even walking through the house was often put on pause as he stopped to rest in doorways and walkways. This is not a complaint. I found it quite charming. But the fact remains that taking care of a dog like Mister takes time and patience.
So will I do it again? Yes, if the right dog comes into my life at the right time I will totally love on them and give them the best life that I can. Regardless of if that life expectancy is days, months, or years.
The right dog? Any dog (or other pet) that needs some loving and will get along with my family. That includes being friendly with any people who come to our home, cats, dogs, and my daughter's bearded dragon. I understand that this list may be a bit much for some dogs.
The right time? I do not think my heart could handle dogs like Mister back-to-back. I am on an emotional roller coaster today, hurting from the loss but thankful for what I have.
The right time for me to take in another senior dog will depend on so many factors. I have a big case of puppy fever today. I want to love on someone young and healthy. If I have a puppy, it will need to be trained before I even consider bringing in another senior dog. ... Then again, I do love the convenience of a dog who already has manners.
The Aftermath - How my other dog is taking it
I wondered how our dog Leah would react to being an only dog again. This is not the first time we have taken in another dog for a few weeks. But it is the first time that we took in a dog who was reaching the end of his life.
I think she was waiting for him this morning. She paused in the door and kept looking and listening before we went "outside potty." We have dropped Mister off at the vet's before, but we always bring him back.
Leah didn't look for him long. But she has been a very naughty doggy today. She tore into her dog treats, a bag of dog food, a box of oatmeal, and Mister's extra bandages. Leah hates being left alone, but can usually behave for a few hours. Today we left her alone for one hour to run to the store, and she actually did most of the destruction while my daughter was home in her bedroom!
Puppy Fever is Real
Curiosity about Mister's earlier life only fueled my puppy fever. The desire to know a dog throughout their entire journey. To make years of memories.
No, we are not ready to add another dog to the family yet. But my heart needed a little cuddle time.
Look at this adorableness!
Dear Mister
Last weekend was good. We went for a run! You looked so happy and free as we rushed down the street. I want to always remember the good times.
- I want to remember how quickly and completely I came to love you
- I want to remember cheering you on, to go outside potty
- I want to remember how you used to sneak the bowl of cat food onto your favorite couch for a snack
- I want to remember your smile
Your smiling face won my heart quickly. And the hearts of those who met you. I was proud to be associated with the local celebrity, "Mister." It was encouraging to see how many strangers wanted to help. Striking up conversations to see how they can help, to offer emotional support, even giving helpful advice like applying coconut oil to your dry skin.
I can't believe how happy I was for each of your accomplishments. 4AM potty breaks meant we get to celebrate another day of life with Mister. (Although, I have to admit, I was even happier the mornings that I got to sleep in.) The satisfied look on your face as we made the long journey around the block. The pride any time you made it onto the furniture all by yourself (or with minimal help.)
I was happy to see you get along with our cats and neighborhood dogs. You were a Good Boy Mister.
Please forgive me, Mister. My only regret is that I didn't give you more.
If I had known the end was so near, I would have given you that burrito from Taco Bell.
Please forgive me if I gave up on your life too soon. I am sorry that I did not stay to hold you in those final moments. I was trying to distance myself. To tell me that I had only known you for a few short weeks. You were not my dog. ... But I was wrong.
There were still so many things I wanted to do with you, Mister.
A part of me hoped we would be making goofy Christmas cards and cool videos about life with Mister. But you did not like the camera. And I knew the chances of you still being with us at Christmas were slim. Still, you were and awesome dog and I wish we could have done more.
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