Buddy Love

This is Buddy.

He's been with us for about 6.5 years, and on this earth for about 8. If you count in dog years, he's older than anyone else in this house by a fair margin.

Buddy has been here in the thick of things. For awhile, it was just the three of us - Buddy, me, and Husband. He formed a fast bond with Brandon from the weekends he was here, and later when he was here all the time. He was here to greet Lucy the day we brought her home (gave her a big 'ol sniff while she was sitting in her car seat in the driveway). Over the years he has gone from tolerating her to forming a bond with her, too. He takes her bossing like a champ!

Buddy is pretty gentle. He rarely barks. The most noise he makes is when he bays at sirens, which is hilarious. He likes to be by his people but doesn't really like to cuddle - he'd rather roll over and let you scratch his belly. He gets a little too friendly with guests sometimes, but his soulful brown eyes usually win them over.

Over Thanksgiving, I had Buddy boarded at our vet's office because he had a lump on his belly that I wanted checked out. While they were at it, I asked them to check a bump on his neck, too. I'd had him in for that particular bump a few months prior, and it was diagnosed as an allergic reaction.

When I went to pick him up from boarding, I knew something was wrong. The staff, who love him and are always very friendly, were unusually quiet. The doctor wanted to talk to me in an exam room.

The lump on his belly is just a fatty mass, she said. No problem, lots of older dogs get them. The thing on his neck...that was called a mast cell tumor. Cancer. Surgery would be needed to understand its stage and if it had spread.

I held it together while I was there, because Lucy was with me. We collected Buddy and headed home. When I told Husband, I lost it a little bit. I wasn't ready to lose our dog.

We scheduled the surgery, and in the meantime I had all but convinced myself he was fine. He seemed perfectly normal. As the day approached, however, I grew more anxious. I did alright dropping him off, but picking him up was not easy. He was groggy and pretty out of it, and had a sad looking bandage on his head because they couldn't get the "cone of shame" on him - he freaked out. They sent us home with 2 painkillers and a sedative, and said "try again tomorrow."

When I brought him home, Lucy helped it sink in. She was very concerned when she got a peek at his incision, which was kind of Frankenstein-ish, I have to admit. As we sat on the floor petting him while he was so obviously disoriented and drugged up, I looked over at her and saw big tears running down her face. "I don't like Buddy to be like this," she said. "I don't either, Honey," I told her, as my eyes filled, too.

The following day, I worked from home to keep an eye on him. Even on the highest dose of sedatives, he wouldn't get near me if I was holding that damn cone. I had Husband try to help when he was home for lunch. No dice. That dog became a bucking bronco if I even l laid my hand on the cone. The bandage wasn't staying up, and wouldn't keep him from scratching at the stitches. We needed another alternative. Enter the donut.

He is tolerating it, and it does keep him from scratching. But he's definitely not thrilled.

Friday, I got the call that the labs were back. The tumor was a Stage 2 out of 3, so what they call "intermediate." The extra tissue they took all around the tumor was clean, but usually for Stage 2 the next step is to biopsy a nearby lymph node. We had already done that, and the lymph node was also clean. So for the moment, our puppy is cancer-free! However, the Stage 2 diagnosis does make it more likely for the cancer to reoccur. Also, any other bumps we find (anywhere on his body), need to be checked right away, because now he has a history.

What a relief. This whole experience has made me really face the reality that one day we'll have to say goodbye to our furry baby. It will break Lucy's heart, and I dread that day. But it will also break mine. He is my first dog, too. It's true what they say that dogs become part of the family. It would just be pretty boring around here without our pup, so I'm glad cancer has seen fit to leave him alone for now.

He is recovering fine so far and doesn't seem to be too bothered by pain. The biggest challenge we've had aside from the cone situation is some doggy diarrhea from one of the meds, which hasn't been fun for any of us (I can attest to this personally, based on the pleasure of a 4AM clean-up). Today, he bayed at some sirens and I got tears in my eyes laughing at him. "That's my boy!" I told him. It was the most normal I've seen him since Tuesday.

Bay on, Bud.