My Shero

"The whole glorious history of animals with people 
is about joy and connection. 

It's about loving this creature and letting this creature love you."

Jon Katz

While I’ve been looking back over her time with us, Maizey, much like Roo, has been living her life. Not exactly large, but on her own, crazy terms. She has slowed down some, but at least once a day she goes out to the pool. Sometimes she just sits on the steps, orange, not yellow, ball in her mouth watching as John barbecues her chicken dinner and Buddy catches balls, yellow not orange, like he’s a part of the Jacksonville Jumbo Shrimp. (I’m kind of embarrassed to even admit that is the name of our minor league team.) 

Pool sitting is not necessarily a quiet pastime for Maizey. She barks for a ball- preferable orange - to be thrown to her. If she misses (not often) she barks for a do-over. On a good day she runs around the pool, takes a flying leap, hits the water with a cannon ball-like splash, grabs the ball, and heads for the bye-bye. Like most of us, Maizey doesn’t like to get water up her nose, so she’s learned to hold her breath. This is not the best thing for a dog to do while trying to swim with a mouth full of tennis ball and pool water. John yells at her to breathe from the sidelines which is usually enough of a reminder to do just that. It doesn’t always work if she is in deeper water. In this case, John jumps to the rescue, often fully clothed.  

Socks - Grammy's stop chewing remedy

Spending so much time in the pool and having a recurring skin condition that makes her feet itch means Maizey spends a lot of her inside time, licking her feet. The more she licks, the more they hurt. John has learned to treat her itches with a trip to the beach or salt water soaks. No more steroids as that is the food of choice for cancer cells. 

At least once a day, Maizey and Buddy play tug o’ war over some ratty piece of rope. Buddy outweighs Maizey now, but still lets her win. Not without a few good body slams, but a win is a win. All that to say, except for a noticeable slowing down, Maizey doesn’t appear to be sick.  Maybe I shouldn’t but I baby her as much as I do, but I can't help it.

I don’t think I qualify as a crazy pet lady. I love a dog (or cat) as much as the next person, but I refuse to treat them like 4-legged children. I don’t believe in dog birthday parties. My dogs have never been to doggie day care. Once Suzi Q spent a couple of nights at Pet Paradise when we went out of town, but I draw the line at day camp, spa treatments and runs outfitted with cable TV and a mini fridge. 

All that changed when Maizey came to live with us. I can’t even tell you why. She is a dog version of a fruitcake, barks too loud and, right this very minute, she is huddled under my chair, both of us quaking in fear of some thunder that may have broken the sound barrier.  There’s something about Maizey that draws me in, turns me into one of "those" people,  like no other dog has. 

Perhaps it’s because I consider her my shero. 

A couple years ago, on a scorching July afternoon, I made a fateful and rather disastrous decision to pull some potato vines off the bushes in the back yard. How hard could it be? I soon learned how it was that Tarzan was able to swing from tree to tree on nothing more than some twisted up vines. Those suckers have a grip on their host tree that outweighs the earth’s gravitational pull.  Something I learned the hard way. 

While I was in the back yard, John was mowing the lawn in the front. (Who mows the lawn in the middle of a tropical heat wave?) Jack was secluded in his office. Two month old Buddy was exploring all the interesting smells. Maizey, the only smart one in the bunch, stayed inside where it was cool. I reached up, grabbed hold of a vine I wanted to get rid of, gave it a yank, but the vine yanked back, threw me off balance and knocked me to the ground. My foot found a hole, my ankle made a hideous cracking sound. I went down face first into the brush. 

I began to scream. I yelled for Jack. I yelled for John and I yelled for Jesus. I got no response. I

If I’d been quiet for a few minutes I would have heard Maizey. Looking through the screen door at her Grammy lying in the bushes, with enough of retriever DNA in her to sound the alarm, Maizey did what she does best … barked her fool head off. Each time John passed by the front window he looked to see what Maizey was up to. After a few passes, he wondered why she was acting nuts by the back door. Knowing the puppy was outside, John feared Buddy fallen in the pool. He stopped mowing to check. As soon as the motor stopped, he heard my pleas for help. 

“Mom, what are you doing in the bushes?" he asked as if I might be there for the fun it.
That's when he discovered little Buddy under big me. Not to mention my ankle turned at a 90 degree angle. 

Thank goodness all's well that ends well. I was carted off to the hospital by EMT’s. Buddy appeared unharmed, until a year later when an x-ray was taken for something else and a tiny scar was discovered on the film. The vine remained in tact. And Maizey the wonder dog became my fur-covered guardian angel from that day forward. 

Uh, Grammy, can I sit in your lap?

So when I heard she has cancer, I decided to reverse the roles. She is not my dog. John has all the hard decisions to make. But when it comes to making her a birthday cake, feeding her a few extra slices of cheese, crawling into bed with her because she doesn’t like to sleep alone, or tossing her a ball a hundred times over, I’m going to do it. I’m pretty sure she’d do the same for me. 

It Takes A Village Part 2

Live Like Roo

“Saving one dog will not change the world, but surely for that one dog,

 the world will change forever.”

Karen Davison (LLR)

When Maizey was diagnosed with cancer, John not only faced life and death decisions, he was forced to consider the financial aspects of the suggested treatments. Needless to say, without any kind of dog insurance, the expected costs were astronomical. $250.00 for x-rays. Close to $500.00 for consultation and biopsy. $3-5,000.00 for surgery. We stopped listening at chemo. 

I’m not sure which is harder to take, learning your soul-mutt has a life threatening illness or   learning the cost of treatment could easily wipe out your bank account. How can one put a price tag on love? A friend told John about a Chicago-based organization that offers support to dogs with a cancer diagnosis by providing financial and emotional assistance to the dog’s owners. LiveLikeRoo Foundation was a good place to start seeking help. You can read all about LiveLikeRoo on their website, but here's the short version.

In April 2015 Roosevelt, (Roo for short), a red Pit Bull/Mastiff mix, who had been in isolation for 15 days due to a bout of Canine Flu, was rescued from Chicago Animal Care and Control. Not long after his rescue, Roo was diagnosed with bone cancer. 

“Apparently Roo didn’t get the memo that life would soon be over.” 

Declining treatment (except for pain management) Roo’s rescuers, Kelly Michael and Sarah Lauch, vowed to fill whatever time Roo had left with all his favorite things. He went on hikes and boat cruises, visited the Waldorf Astoria and ate lots of ice cream. The LiveLikeRoo Facebook page garnered over 25000 followers. Roo passed away on September 8. With heavy hearts and a desire to help as many dogs as they can, Kelly and Sarah wanted to continue helping other dogs to LiveLikeRoo.  

In addition to financial support LLR keeps Roo's memory alive by sending Roo Care packages to dogs suffering from cancer. “Each package contains Roo’s favorite items-including a blanket (which has become a favorite of the packages), a gift card for ice cream and McNuggets and burgers, toys, treats, collars and much more. We have found that people and dogs that receive these packages absolutely love them and they lift the spirits of the dog and of the human.” By turning her living room into a one-woman production line, Sarah sends an average of 20 care packages a week. 

Speaking for myself, reading Roo’s story and seeing pictures of other cancer dogs enjoying the gifts his legacy has helped put Maizey’s illness into some kind of perspective. It helps to know others care. It helps to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. Like the eclipse that was seen across the country yesterday, cancer can darken your pet's life, with lots of love and the help of others, your pet's life can still shine.

Speaking for Maizey, the queen of blankets, the LLR fleece blanket has become her favorite.

So thank you to Sarah and Kelly, the volunteers and people who donate, for the work you do. And thank you to Roo for the reminder that when all else fails eat ice cream.

P.S. Unlike Roo, Maizey turns up her nose at ice cream. Her preferences run more towards kitty litter treats and steak. Buddy never turns down a trip to the Dairy Queen.

P.S.S. A blatant Public Service Announcement:
If you or someone you know has been kicked in the heart because of a pet's cancer diagnosis, check out this wonderful organization. If you are so inclined, LLR can always use monetary donations or items on their wish list.

It Takes A Village

"Taking responsibility and having faith in your own judgment 

will help you make good choices and decisions at the end of your pet's life."

 Jon Katz

It may take a village to raise a child. Whether with a human or a pet, as a caregiver you need a small army of doctors, friends and helpers for a sustained quality of life and/or a peaceful farewell.

Once the biopsy declared for sure that Maizey had cancer, John, who can be the most social guy I know or the most isolated, went into research mode. He googled. He read. He consulted with veterinarians. He explored alternative and herbal remedies. He compared stories with other dog owners. 

John knows many of the dogs and their humans in the neighborhood by name.  A few neighbors have experienced the full-on Maizey which happens when she tears through an open front door, charges to the back of the house then races out again like a dust devil on an open plain. Thankfully it all happens so fast that it’s hard to figure out what just happened. We have a few neighbors who know to keep their doors locked for reasons such as this, and a couple who often retell the story of the time a white lightening bold zoomed through their living room. Needless to say, Maizey has garnered quite a reputation.

During their nightly walks, while Maizey tugs on the leash for a butt sniff, John greets other dog walkers with the universal sign of hello to dog lovers — a wave of a poop-filled baggie. Unlike Buster who knows to sit and stay when another dog or car passes by, Maizey turns up the volume. On most occasions she is all bark and no bite, full of bluster and hot air. Still not many dogs or their humans want to mess with her.  Most give Maizey a wide berth. Even when Maizey is watching from inside the house neighbors speed walk past. Nothing makes Maizey crazier than seeing her human through the plate glass window, chatting away with other members of the Clifton Dog Brigade. Call it what you will, paranoid or egomaniacal, Maizey believes she is the subject of every conversation and wants to tell her side of the story.

“Busy town dogs bark less than country dogs, but all dogs know all about the Twilight Barking. It is their way of keeping in touch with distant friends, passing on important news, enjoying a good gossip." Dodie Smith, The Hundred and One Dalmatians

Through the human version of “twilight barking” John learned that cancer in dogs is not uncommon. Several dog owners have experienced the heart break that John is now facing. Like women discussing child birth, when your dog is sick no one is afraid to share even the ugliest of details. Each person’s treatment decision is as individual as their dogs. Some choose chemotherapy, some immediate euthansia, some a combination of all choices. None are easy. All are devastating.

Neighborhood Watch

In addition to all the valuable information John received, it must be noted that during their time together, John has learned each of Maizey’s peculiarities, penchants and peeves. What might work for some dogs (i.e.leg amputation) would probably not work for a dog with OCD who doesn’t like change. Maizey could, no doubt, learn to get around with one leg missing, but the truth is a three-legged Maizey would not be a happy Maizey. As he drew near to his final decision, John also reached out to two online organizations. Live Like Roo and Lap of Love Veterinary Hospice. These love-filled organizations are all about supporting, honoring and loving a dog/pet with cancer.

Stay tuned for more information on each of these organizations.

The "C" Word

“The relationship between a dog and a human is always complicated. 

The two know each other in a way nobody else quite understands, 

a connection shrouded in personal 

history, temperament, experience, instinct, and love.” 

Jon Katz, A Dog Year: Twelve Months, Four Dogs and Me

Cancer has got to be one of the scariest words in the dictionary. For even the most Zen person on the planet, the life-altering “C” word can send any semblance of tranquility packing. The thing about cancer is it is an equal opportunity disease. It strikes babies and old people, moms, dads and children, cats and dogs alike. I’ve had experience with cancer as a caregiver. I’ve sat with friends during chemo treatments. I've cried at cancer-caused funerals and jumped for joy with cancer survivors. I have not, however, had a beloved pet diagnosed with the life-threatening disease. Maizey is the first. I pray she is the last. 

 As much as I love my pets, I’ve never had a problem knowing when it was time to let them go. They were old, or sick or in extreme pain. Cancer is a whole new ball game. As with humans, cancer is not always a death sentence. It often comes with options not just euthanasia. 

Maizey is 5 years old. When she started limping, it never occurred to us that she might have a life threatening illness. John assumed she had pulled a muscle or sprained her ankle jumping off the bed. After a few days the limp disappeared. 

But it didn’t stay gone. After the third time, John took Maizey to the vet for X-rays. Doodle Dog isn’t one of those dogs that shivers and quakes in fear when she goes to the vet. She assumes the role of “queen” wherever she goes and Merrill Animal Clinic is no exception. She starts barking as she walks in the door to announce her arrival. She demands the royal treatment and she gets it. The girls in the office know to usher her straight to the back. 

John is on a first name basis with Dr. Rogaski, Maizey’s Primary Care vet.  “Cathy” checked Maizey over from paw to shoulder, from the tip of her ears to the tip of her tail. Agreeing with John’s jumping off the bed assessment, Dr. Rogaski sent Maizey home with some pain meds and instructions to rest. 

“Yeh, right!” thought Maizey as she pranced out of the office into her awaiting V8 powered carriage. The idea of rest was met with the same disdain as the suggestion she could stand to lose a few pounds. Maizey took that advice with a side of cookies. 

Assured Maizey's limp was "just" a sprain, we quit worrying about it. There was no cause for alarm when Dr. Rogaski called a few days later to check on her. We were not prepared to hear that the x-rays showed a shadow near Maizey’s shoulder joint. She needed to see a specialist. The specialist took more x-rays, then a biopsy. The diagnosis we least wanted to hear turned out to be Grade 3 Osteo-sarcoma. 

That’s the way with cancer, it creeps up on you. 

The first thing you do when you find out you or someone you love has cancer is cry. Then you rage. Then you go into warrior mode and research your options. 

“The clearer your mind and heart are, the easier you learn. The more you learn about cancer and how to treat it, the wiser the decisions you will make about your dog’s treatment. The calmer you are, the more likely your dog will be calm, too.” dogcancerbook.com (page 22)

As a caregiver I learned the importance of taking an extra pair of ears with me when going to the doctor for test results. When your beloved pet is the patient it's even more essential to have someone else with you to pay close attention to the details. Maizey may be able to hear a boom boom from several miles away, but she paid no attention to the man in green scrubs foretelling her future. While the doctor rambled on about treatment, and cure percentages, Maizey slept. I did my best to keep breathing. John stared at the gray blob on the light screen behind the doctor. We barely heard “let’s schedule the surgery for Thursday.”  

It makes no difference if you google it or seek multiple opinions. The prognosis for dogs with osteosarcoma is not good. The life expectancy is low, the cost high and quality of life somewhere in the middle. 

“Osteosarcomas are highly aggressive tumors, characterized by painful local bone destruction and distant metastasis (spread to other organs) http://www.csuanimalcancercenter.org/assets/files/Osteosarcoma.pdf

The most often suggested treatment for Maizey included, without delay:

• Amputate the leg to remove the primary tumor and source of pain. (According to the people we talked to, amputation is almost always well-tolerated by the patient. “Dogs with 3 legs can do virtually everything that 4-legged dogs can do."dogcancerbook.com ) 
•  Follow up with chemo. ("Chemotherapy is unlikely to cure most dogs with osteosarcoma, but can prolong a good quality survival. Most dogs tolerate chemotherapy well, with some dogs experiencing mild, self-limiting side effects such as depressed appetite, nausea, occasional vomiting and diarrhea for a few days. Less than 5% of dogs will experience severe side effects requiring hospitalization."dogcancerbook.com ) 
• While  euthanasia is the least desired option it must be factored into the quality vs quantity of life equation.

The most often suggested prognoses:

• Do nothing - 3 months. 
• Amputation alone - 8 months. 
• Chemo - possible year, 2 at the most

I didn’t envy John’s choices. He’s the only one who knows Maizey’s idiosyncrasies.  He alone knows the state of his bank account. Maizey is depending on him. There is no easy answer. 

From a human point of view, the world began to spin like an unbalanced washing machine. But when you look at this dog, it's hard to imagine there's anything wrong with her. For now she continues to do the things a middle aged dog is supposed to do -- swim, chase cats, dine on cat poop, bark at the mailman, catch balls, take naps and demand the attention she is convinced she deserves. 

Ella Ella Bo Bella

"A true friend leaves paw prints on your heart."

In his book Going Home, Jon Katz writes, “Kids are the purest animal lovers in the world. Psychologists have long noted the power of animal friendships and fantasies in the development of children. So there are special challenges in talking to children about the death of a family pet.” (pg 129)

When it comes to balls, chew bones, treats, blankets, swimming, naps and playing with a certain 5 year old, Maizey can’t get enough. If the bond between John and Maizey is Gorilla Glue, then the bond between Maizey and Ella must be Silly Putty. It’s hard to know who loves this crazy dog more, John, his daughter, Ashley, or his granddaughter, Eleyiana. One thing’s for sure, Maizey does not lack for attention.

Eleyiana was a baby when she and Maizey met for the first time. It was love at first sight, on both sides. As Ella has grown, so has their relationship. It's as if time stands still between Ella’s visits. When she comes to Florida, the girl and the dog pick up where they left off. Throw Buddy into the mix and you’ve got a genuine 3-ring circus going on day and night. They play, swim, and sleep together. The noise level rises by several decibels. The barking, the running inside and out, the back door slamming are punctuated by high pitched squeals that only 5 year old girls can make. It’s a delight to see, but not so easy on the ears.

When Ella comes to town, John, aka GPa, prepares perhaps the best ever sleep over environment. He piles pillows and blankets on the bed, on the floor, and in a pink tent. It’s more a game of musical beds than first come first served. Ella might start out in the tent, but Maizey is there in the morning. Buddy can be found in a wooden, blanket-lined crib that looks out over the driveway or wedged into the tent with his lala. If Peppa Pig can be found under all the covers, she's usually a bit wet from dog drool. (Neither of our well-mannered dogs would try to eat Peppa. They do, however, like to toss her around.) John wakes up bleary eyed from lack of sleep. The day doesn't start until GPa gets coffee, Ella gets donuts and Maizey checks the perimeter for squirrels.

Ella’s most recent visit was the longest she's been here without her mom. Camp GPa lasted almost two weeks. In that time Ella mastered jumping onto a noodle in the middle of the pool; went to baseball games and saw fireworks; became an ace pooper scooper; learned how to give Maizey medicine stuffed steak and cheese; chased Buddy until he cried "Uncle" and collapsed. Mostly the 4 Muskateers swam -- in the morning, in the evening, in the rain. 

Stand Up for Someone with Cancer  Night
with the Jacksonville Jumbo Shrimp

Giving Maizey her medicine

Ella doesn’t know anything about cancer and tumors, but she does understand that Maizey is sick. GPa explained to her that Maizey wouldn’t be with us much longer. It helped that Ella has some experience and knows pets die and go to heaven. Along with all the fun times, Ella spent quiet times with Maizey, massaging and loving her. She said goodbye in her own way, the way children do, without a lot of drama. 

Sometimes a pat on the head, an extra piece of cheese, or sharing a nap is the best way to say "Goodbye. Thanks for being my friend. I love you.”