Can This Dog Be Saved?

If you love animals as I do, read on. If not, don't.

In 1998, my dog Molly saved my life. I was stuck at my desk all day, poring through my cluttered financial records in response to an IRS audit, trying to justify every single deposit to my account from three years earlier. I ignored a terrible pain in my leg. Molly came to get me about 7 p.m. and she let me know in unmistakable dog language that she had to go outside and that the audit could wait.

I took her outside, ran into my neighbors--a doctor and his wife (a nurse)--and asked them what to do about the pain in my left leg. They immediately noticed that my breathing was labored and told me to call my own doctor at once. I did, went to a nearby hospital, where I was diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism. I learned that my lungs were filling up with blood clots, and that if I had not gotten medical treatment when I did, I would have died.

I owe Molly a big debt. Now she is very sick and strangely enough she has a lung problem too. Her lungs are constricted, and she is having trouble breathing. My local vet said she had congestive heart failure but it would take a week for him to get a sonogram to confirm the diagnosis. I whisked her off to a fancy veterinary clinic that I read about in the New York Times called New York City Veterinary Specialists, which is supposedly tops in every field of veterinary medicine.

At NYC-VS, the doctors quickly concluded that Molly did not have congestive heart failure, but that she probably had lymphoma, which is a cancer. Lymphoma, I learned, was responsible for filling her chest cavity with water and making it hard for her to breathe. After two days of hospitalization and extensive testing (at a cost of $3,000), Molly was turned over to a staff oncologist, who recommended that we start chemotherapy.

Last week, she had her first chemo, a drug called Elspar.

I should mention that Molly's major symptom is a very bad, hacking cough, that sounds as though she can't possibly draw a breath of air. The cough lasts about 10 seconds (which feels more like 10 minutes) and it is very upsetting to hear. The coughing occurs maybe 8-10 times a day. After she got the Elspar, she also had very bad diarrhea.

In between the periodic coughing episodes, Molly is usually alert, perky, and playful. She is not as active as she once was, but she is still our beloved friend.

Yesterday I took her back to the NYC-VS clinic for her second chemo. In the middle of the day, the oncologist called to say that Molly had not responded to the chemo, and she concluded either that Molly did not have cancer at all, or that she had a cancer that did not respond to chemotherapy. I asked what she would recommend. She recommended either more testing of an invasive kind (sedation, DNA analysis, bone marrow, etc.) or euthanasia.

I certainly would not consider euthanasia at this point, so I agreed to the testing. After some minutes of reflection, I realized that the tests would subject the dog to a painful set of procedures that would either prove that she has incurable cancer or come up empty as the earlier tests had. In the past, other vets have told me that sedating an older dog or a dog with respiratory problems is extremely dangerous. I decided to stop the tests, and I withdrew Molly from the NYC-VS custody.

I must say, I have seldom seen her so happy as the moment that I took her away. She ran for the double glass doors, leapt into the car, and was actually smiling (I know what her smile looks like). I had the distinct feeling that I had liberated Molly and for the first time since she fell ill, I felt happy too.

The ugly part of this story is that when I came to pick Molly up, no doctor met with me. In fact, I could not get the internist to answer my calls. I got the impression that the doctors were angry that I had interfered with their plans for more testing.

I think that the problem with this hyperspecialized clinic is that once they put the dog into the care of a specialist, no one could consider any alternative treatments. If she does not have cancer, something else is causing her pulmonary distress, but NYC-VS only wanted to find cancer.

Now, we are going to take Molly to see a renowned homeopathic veterinarian.

There may not be any cure for her illness, and I know that ultimately we will have to euthanize this beloved friend, but when it happens, I want to know (and I hope she knows) that we did everything possible to be sure that she got the best of care and was treated only by loving and kind hands.

Comments

[camaretta]

Try giving the dog Tahitian Noni Juice. I have a friend who had a black lab who lived to be 14, disease-free after having been on Noni Juice for several years. They first gave it to her because she appeared to have been poisoned. The juice made her recover before they even got her to the vet. I think they give about one ounce as a dose. Maybe someone else knows. It should be TAHITIAN Noni, as there are some other kinds not considered as good. Hope it helps.

[larry278]

Good luck to you & your dog. Since no-one can view this situation as you do-this is no time to give you advice on-line. You have your own trusted experts to advise you of your choices for your dog & the consequences to your dog of each choice. The love & respect which you feel for your dog will guide you to the best choice for your dog. I wish peace for you & your dog. We owe this lady & her dog peace.

[OtayPanky]

CAN THIS DOG BE SAVED?
======================

First, I am sorry for the impending loss of your good friend and companion.

To answer this difficult question, I have to ask myself what I would want for ME if life brought me to some similar sort of place. That's what I would prescribe for those in my care who cannot make their own choices.

I start with the obvious: all who are born must die. And even our most advanced tech can't keep death from our door - or the door of those we love, whether animal or human.

If I were diagnosed with some terminal condition where the prognosis was pain, deterioration and more pain, followed inexorably by death - my own choice would be to settle my affairs as best as I could and meet death head on, without trying to squeeze every last second out of this life - no matter how painful the squeezing.

My own choice comes from my belief system. I'm a Buddhist, and believe that we move from life to life, taking form after form, until we come to a place of full enlightenment (Buddhahood).

Therefore I don't have as much resistance to the end of this life as a lot of folks seem to have. I'm not one of those "rage, rage against the dying of the light" types.

But that's just me. Your mileage may vary. Just apply the golden rule to your own life, and that of your beloved dog.

[JayeSutter]

Please call Gulf Coast Animal Hospital in Houston, Texas. It is worth the effort. They are super. If Molly can be helped, they can find the way to help her.

Their kindness and compassion have helped our dogs over the years. When our Zelda the Boston Terrier developed diabetes and we took her in to the vet at Gulf Coast. Zelda took a turn for the worse that night and the vet called us at home. She told us, in tears, that she didn't understand, but it appeared that Zelda was more ill than any of us knew.

Zelda died in my arms that night. The vet said she had never known of a dog to wait until her family got to the clinic to die. The doctor performed an autopsy the next day and learned that not only had Zelda's pancreas failed, but had actually died. It consisted mostly of dead tissue. She lived because she willed it. She died because she had exhausted her will.

Even though the story is a sad one, the people at Gulf Coast are so compassionate, hard working, understanding and knowledgeable. They respect both dog and people. My phone calls are always returned promptly and they call after a loss to check on those who remain.

I hope Molly recovers. We do understand. She is lucky to have you and all you need from her will be with you always.

[ProfessorVP]

You have to let go; lymphoma is not curable in humans, and there's no reason to believe it's curable in dogs or cats. I have been there with similar situations over the years, and yes, it's awful. But there's no need to convince your beloved friend that you tried everything. Doing that is for you, not Molly.