Today was a little tough as Cole was a little weak and wobbly from either the chemo or the after surgery crash. He just wanted to sleep and was not interested in food other than very select cookies. The things he went for yesterday were spit out today. This makes me think it was the chemo. We had to shove the pills down his throat and he ate very little food but some cookies and a little bite of chicken so that is something.
This morning, I was watching him sleep and sad for him that he seemed to not feel good and worried that he was so weak. I saw him struggle to walk to go out and go to the bathroom. I’m ashamed to admit I started missing the dog that he was. I miss my playful goof and sweet snuggly guy that I know he still is and will be again but I also miss the beefy, seemingly invincible dog he was. I miss the dog that people would stop me to ask about and want to pet and make comments like “I bet no one gives you a hard time!” I miss moments like the door to door security system salesman coming to our door, pausing with his mouth open when the door opened and he was face to face with a wagging and smiling Cole, shaking his head and saying “Have a nice day” before walking away. I miss the dog that once blocked my entire bedroom doorway with his huge body and, head down, snarled in a way that sounded more like a bear roaring than a sound a dog can make when a man came into my house at 3:30 in the morning (it was just my husband coming home from an overnight film shoot at work so no worries, nothing bad happened). I miss our walks and the short but hilarious wrestling matches between him and Ella. I miss the gorgeous beast who was so much the ideal mastiff. It is shallow and selfish to think these things and I felt bad thinking them. He didn’t ask to get cancer and is in pain and here I am, sad that he will be less….perfect? impressive? I’m not sure what the word I am looking for is. I am tempted to delete this whole post because I am disgusted with myself for thinking these things even if it was only for a few minutes.
As the day went on, he started feeling better and got stronger. All of his little victories made my heart swell and I was so filled with pride when we took off the back half of his harness and barely supported him for his last potty trip before bed. I was so happy for him when I took his port out after his last dose through the catheter because it meant he could be out of isolation and back in his bed. The “dog bed” is a twin size mattress on the floor at the foot of our bed so there is a mattress thickness bit of a jump. I was so happy when he hopped up on the bed after only one stumble all by himself. He is now snoozing with Ella where he should be and I expect him to sleep through the night because of it. He is now sitting up at different points during the day and can get up by himself. I am so proud of how strong he is and how resilient. I miss some things about the old Cole but I am appreciating him in so many new and different ways now. He is amazing and still so impressive and gorgeous and a perfect example of a mastiff. He has lost nothing but 10 lb of pain and disease so I was crazy for feeling sad before.
I wonder if others have these thoughts through this process. Is it just me being selfish and prideful or is it normal to miss things about your dog?
Just now while I was writing this, he stood up by himself and walked a few feet and then got back in bed with no assistance at all for the first time. It feels like the kind of excitement you feel over a baby’s first steps. I’m so happy he will soon feel less confined by his inability to move very much.
I think most of us go through a period of mourning the dog we had before we get down to embracing the dog we have. Cole will help you in this process as he gets his sparkle back and his personality comes back. If we let it this journey teaches us how to live each day fully and with joy just as our furfaces do. As the recovery process goes on you will soon see what a warrior Cole is. You are doing a great job with Cole and hopefully each day will be filled with new success. Hugs!
Linda & Max
I so glad that Cole and Ella have each other to comfort them. They seem so bonded to each other it is very sweet.
After we through the post-amp period, it was hard not to look at Ellie and feel sadness. We knew OSA was going to take our Ellie long before we were ready for it. And she had always been so healthy it seemed so completely unfair. I can’t say the sadness ever went away completely but we actually got back to daily living pretty quickly. She just wanted to be petted and have walks and lay on the back patio and jump up and warn us about the UPS man. She was happy and she wasn’t worried about the future. We tried to be like her. We didn’t always succeeded, but we tried.
My situation may be different than yours because Mona didn’t require any treatments after the amputation and I believe the cancer left with the leg. I can’t remember the “Pre-amp Mona”. I try to figure out what is different and I don’t know what has changed. I can see it’s more work hopping on one less leg and then I marvel how fast she runs up the stairs. I laugh at how she hits my other cat on the head and then warms my heart when she comforts him at the vet.
Your dog is resilient and so are you! Cole will find his way.
Kerren and Tripawd Kitty Mona
Thank you for being so open. I know exactly how you feel. Athena is my beautiful, powerful, willful hiking buddy, never tiring, drawing comments on her beauty wherever she goes, what with her batural black eyeliner always in place. She was a gift, I didn’t choose her by breed, but she’s a lovely example of it – bounding off leash like a deer, so joyful and free. So: yes. I miss her. She’s healing great but even on reduced meds she’s having some dysphoria, she is definitely not herself yet. Your post totally made me teary because I’m feeling the same. The treatment for which is of course to Be More Dog, not beat yourself up, it is what it is, all of it. Athena’s cozy in her t-shirt in her blanket-covered crate, her nose stuffed into her bedding, and if I want to go on a hike – well, I’ve been getting other exercise, but I can tell you when I next see her friends and frenemies in the hills I will likely not have dry eyes. x’s & o’s Claire & Athena
I’m so glad you understand. It is hard to explain to someone not going through it so I knew if anyone could understand, it would be the tripawds. It is not that we love them any less or are not proud of them or are embarrassed or anything. It is just a change and remembering the strong, healthy dog that they were is a little sad at times. I know he will still be gorgeous and will get love and compliments when we go out. He absolutely loves Home Depot and a local garden center we visit pretty often and he is always pet by a ton of people when we go. I know that part of that will be explaining over and over that he lost his leg to cancer. I know he will still protect us and keep a watchful eye over the cul de sac in front of our house. I know he is still Cole. Thank you for responding. It means a lot to hear from you. Athena is gorgeous and I’m so glad she is healing well. I know she will be bounding around again soon. I have been following her progress and everyone at my house are rooting for her!
“natural” not “batural”;-)
Ues, this is a perfect safe harbor to share all your feelings and thoughts. We understand like no others can.
It is very important to remind you, and Athena’s mom too, you are still very early in the recovery stage, VERY EARLU!!
Getting to this point has been more stressful and exhausting than you even realize. Your emotions are absolutely at rock bottom.
You WILL see Cole’s sparkle come back!! You WILL see some of his habits and routines return! And will develop new habits to replace running a marathon that are even more rewarding.
You will see that nothing about Cole is “lost”. You will see that you’ve found Cole to be living a joyful and happy life and not missing a thing!! Cole doesn’t focus on missing so ething he may have enjoyed yesterday, he is only focusing on what he’s enjoying today!!
Okay, he may not be enjoying a lot right now, but he will soon!!
Continue to focus on the victories that show up every day as he plods tnrough recovery.
I think I may have mentioned that it took me about three weeks before I could finally say I was doing this FOR my beloved Happy Hannah and not TO her!
For Happy Hannah, she did everything she WANTED to do after her amputation. And you’ll find that three legs or four, just laying around getting non-stop tummy rubs is at the top of their list!
Love to all!
Sally and Alumni Happy Hannah and Merry Myrtle and Frankie too!
Just wanted to add, Cole has just had a double whammy with MAJOR surgery and CHEMO treatment at the same time! Nope, he’s not feeling like romping around and with good reason!
I don’t think its prideful at all…when my beautiful, athletic Dobe lost his front leg over 18 mos ago, I admit to being a little sad to think think he’d be “less” than he was. But I couldn’t have been more wrong! He’s just as beautiful and athletic as ever! And I defy anyone to tell me differently.
Your two are just precious, I love how devoted they are to each other.
Paula and Nitro
Grief comes from loss. Mourning/Missing what you had is not wrong. You don’t love Cole any less but it is ok to miss the life you once had. It is not selfish of you and perfectly normal. BUT you’re also not in the new normal stage yet either. You’re still just rolling with the punches. Most dogs take 2 to 3 weeks just to recover from amputation both physically and emotionally.
I know many people say their dogs had no side effects to chemo but there are plenty of us whose dogs DID have side effects but we’re not the majority. Most side effects are the dogs being queasy and very tired.