The dog with bladder cancer
Tam and Rosie were “sisters from the same mister”, litter mates, twins, if you will. Two adorable little sheltie dogs that I met when I began dating their dad, Johnny. When I would come to visit with my current dog, Lola, the girls would be standing at the front door, looking out through the glass wearing their welcoming smiles. The memory of that still warms my heart. They were four years old at the time. I joined their family a few years later and was honored to live out the rest of their lives with them.
Rosie died, quite suddenly, one evening. She was napping after finishing her dinner, suddenly jumped up to run through the house and fell over dead. Since we didn’t ask for a necropsy, our conclusion was that she had thrown a clot either into her brain or heart. Then, one year later, Tam began showing signs of repeated urinary tract infections. Extensive testing revealed bladder cancer. We were heartbroken. How could we bear to lose another Sheltie so soon?
The specialty vet gave Tam a prognosis of about six months. We could keep her most comfortable and possibly even extend the life a bit with surgery and chemotherapy. The surgery removed a big portion of her bladder and made her temporarily incontinent. I lined the kitchen floor with plastic drop cloths and took her outside every couple of hours. During the night I set an alarm to go downstairs and take her out. Each time I awakened that sweet girl from a sound sleep she jumped to her feet and trotted outside obediently to “do her business”. She was a very good sport about this whole mess.
After researching the pros and cons of chemotherapy we realized surprisingly that the only real drawback was the big price tag. The medication was expensive but, in some cases, slowed the growth of the tumor. It wouldn't be a cure, but would hopefully buy her more time. We were willing to give it a try for our sweet girl, especially when the first post-op check up showed the cancer was already growing back. I was unwilling to settle for just the chemotherapy and at this point began sending healing to Tam on a regular basis. I envisioned the cancer dissolving and becoming smaller and smaller.
Six months went by and Tam was still alive. The vets were puzzled to see that her tumor had actually reduced in size by about one third. They had not seen this drug actually shrink a tumor before. The best they had hoped for was to slow the growth. I just smiled and continued on with my own protocol. After one year, the tumor was undetectable and by now the vets were stunned. But Tam had a new threat: chronic urinary tract infections caused by the damage the tumor had done to the lining of her bladder. Each time I patiently sent healing to her bladder walls and she recovered. Her name at the vet clinic was now “True Grit” for all the courage and persistence she demonstrated.
Tam finally passed two years after her diagnosis. There was still no indication of cancer in her bladder but other growths had sprung up and she was finally just worn out. She was 16 years old and the oldest sheltie we ever had. I will never forget her sweet soul and the lessons she taught me about courage and resilience.