What A Difference A Day Makes

"... when we adopt a dog or any pet, 

we know it is going to eventually say goodbye, but we still do it. 

And we do it for one reason. 

They bring so much joy and optimism and happiness. 

They attack every moment of every day with that attitude." 

Bruce Cameron

Maizey continues to be an enigma, leaving us all, including the hospice doc, scratching our heads and wondering if she really does have cancer. At least once a day she puts Buddy in his place by besting him at a game of tug o’ war. If she can last long enough to wear him out, she counts it as a win, then lies down on the rug for a rest.herself. Her stamina has decreased but her spirit is as strong as ever.

If Maizey gets a bath, I want one too.

Early on in his relationship with Maizey, John learned she has allergies. After several trips to specialty vets, rounds of steroids and antibiotics, and trial and error, it’s still unclear what exactly she’s allergic to. Beef products and cat poo are definitely triggers. But oh how she loves those treats.  Because he thought Maizey only had a couple months to live, John decided he’d give her specialty cut steaks from the Public butcher.  Of course, we’re happy that the silly dog is still with us, but the steaks caused her to itch like crazy.  One of the downsides of outliving all life expectancy predictions is going back to a bland diet of kibble and chicken. No more rawhides. No more beef stroganoff. Even worse, a daily bath is in order until her skin settles down. 

Besides itchy skin, Doodle has a quarter sized hot spot on her tail. In order to lick it, she has to turn sideways and upside down. In doing so, she has developed a rug burn on the very tip of her nose. John has added Rudolph to her list of nicknames. 

Dr. Katie came by this week to see the miracle dog for herself. Of course, she was almost trampled by the dynamic duo, Buddy and Maizey running full speed to greet her. Buddy quickly discovered he was not the center of attention. Not to his 2nd child liking, he pulled out all the stops to gain Top Dog honors. First he tried the simple technique of looking cute. Next he offered to share his wet, stinky "la la" (Buddy's version of Linus's blanket) with the doctor. When all that failed, he jumped in Dr. Katie’s lap and gave her a big slobbery dog French kiss.  Maizey, on the other hand, hung back, played hard to get. But she watched every move Dr. Katie made. Finally she got close enough for a hands on examination. There’s no discernible mass growing, or noticeable pain while being poked and prodded.  Against all odds, Maizey’s terminal condition is progressing very slowly. That’s not to say something couldn’t change overnight.

And change it did. The next day, poor Maizey began limping. She didn’t want to put any weight on her paw and had a look in her sad brown eyes that said, “I don’t feel so hot.” Even with pain medication it was easy to see she hurt. John is pretty sure, osteosarcoma is not the culprit. Either she played too hard or slipped on the wood floors hopping out of bed. Still, it’s a foretaste of what is to come. None of us like it. 

The good news is that the death knell has not yet sounded. If Maizey makes it to the six month after diagnosis mark, she’ll get an X-ray for Christmas. That will tell a better story. For now, we watch and wait. We get down on the floor and lie beside her while she sleeps. We massage her joints and whisper "there, there" in her ear. We wrap her pain meds in cheese and hand feed them to her. We laugh at her ability to go from sleeping sick dog to alert protective dog in less than a nano second when she hears a UPS truck pass by. We don't let her see us cry. 

And we say prayers of gratitude to the Big Ball Thrower in the Sky for the extra time we have been given with our crazy Maizey.