You and Sophie have been on my mind recently... so glad to hear that she's hangin' in there. It is very hard when you can really see that day coming. You don't know how far it is between here and there but you know it's not as far as you would like. But it does also put much in perspective and that is the one gift...

Thank you all. She's a wonder. You have no idea. Everyone loves her so much. The specialty hospital staff (the one that did the 18 courses of radiation) still calls me up to wish her well and comment on how much they miss her. Truly special. I'm blessed to have her still with me. 

*sniff*

She's adorable Dr. Patty, and this post is a reminder to cherish the time we have with ALL of our loved ones, human and otherwise.

I am so sad to hear your time with Sophie is numbered...yet I felt your bittersweet time as a gift and real love. I have lost several of my doggie kids to cancer, and so I know somewhat of what you are saying. My rotttie- Mejara got sick in one day> died suddenly after leaving the vets office ( he sent her home with meds- I guess he forgot to mention she was gonna die ) he is no longer my vet) I took her home- she went and lay under the kitchen table- something she has never done in all her 9 years. I crawled down there with her- a friend came- she died in my arms- her heart gave out. She had a tumor in her spleen- and poison in her from Diamond Pet foods- a recall came to late as she died in Aug 30-2005> the recall came December 2005. The dog food almost took my male rottie- but the vet managed to save Montana. He had no cancer , he was younger and stronger. My heart felt sympathy goesd out to you. May you be blessed with a special heaven sent comfort. The book " Heaven" by Randy Alcorn has 2 chapters just for animals - It got me through Mejara's passing. God bless you.

I remember how it was when one of my Scottie's was diagnosed with TCC and prognosis was very poor. I'd fly home from work at above the speed limit, park, and run into the house to see him, (actually, I did that with all the dogs at the end.), my heart flip-flopping wondering if they would still be alive or ok. It is stressful, but you learn to adjust and prepare. When you see the sad changes, you accept them and are hyperviligent.

At the risk of being "flamed", I have a few bittersweet memories of Pocket, pre-death. Unfortunately "over-shadowed" by what was yet to come.

Columbus Day, Monday, I picked up Bill in the evening at Manchester Airport, from a business trip. I was so concerned over Pocket's declining status, that I brought her with me. She had never been to the airport, and I carried her inside, wondering if I was going to be kicked out for having a dog. As sick as she was, she loved it, not the least nervous by the noise and hustle/bustle of the crowd and was in glory seeing Bill arrive.

After racing down to pick up her blood-work on Wed. (call from attending vet finally returned to me at work, cited "gross abnormalities", but no "prognosis") I already knew from her appearance & symptoms, this was the end. I was prepared to bring her for her final visit on Thursday.....that's when all the "pressure" mounted, needing a second opinion. Second opinion, confirmation, FOR WHAT?

We slept side by side, Wed. eve, my hand never leaving her, telling her that she is the greatest. I never really went to sleep and neither did she, albeit a few hours of what appeared deep sleep (after vomiting). Weary, sad, and stressed, I shaved her front leg with the clippers Thurs. morning, and the rest of the story was yet to unfold.

The difference between "stress and grief" and abnormal raging PTSD, I think can be summed up in one word--- "acceptance"

Pocket's Story from New Hampshire

Dr. K:  I do hope and pray for Sophie, a sweet girl who's got the best "Mom."  I know your love will help her endure this dreaded disease.  I also know you have done everything you humanly could so enjoy and treasure every minute of whatever time is left for her although I would wish her to die of old age!

Dr. K: Beautiful post. Yes, it is a "bittersweet", sad yet wonderful, because of what it makes you think about, realize, and come to terms with.

Stress? You bet, a roller-coaster ride that seems to never end, but eventually does and way too soon. You want that 'roller-coaster' back, for the good and the "high points" because "when it's over, it's over forever". And then this huge, huge weight---both physical and mental gets released, and you start thinking of little memories of happiness...which makes it so "bittersweet".

Some people, both pet and non-pet folks, have asked me the difference between losing a close family member & a pet. There are many similarities and some differences. The "physical" part of losing a pet to cancer or some chronic disease is the same. All the little "baby steps" of coming closer to death. Weight loss, sunken facial features, loss of appetite and bowel problems, glassy eyes, sleeping a lot, no stamina, and a change in "voice". I did not recognize my Mom's voice either! Let alone her facial expressions or features.

I see the regal and beauty in Sophie's picture. I have two "beanies", one more so, that it is oh, so obvious. It is sad, yet gives me deeper appreciation and memories of the past years of their lives, long before they pass, more hugs, more kisses, more individual time. Because all too soon, they will be a beautiful memory.

What a wonderful post!  Enjoy every minute you have left with Sophie.  As I have mentioned before, I lost Cooper, my golden, to lymphoma in January.  Once I knew that it was time, I made sure his last day included all the things he most enjoyed.  I took him to church with me, and everyone there took time to say goodbye to him.  He really loved it all, too weak to walk around to visit, but people came to him, especially the children.  He always loved children, and his tail thumped non-stop.  Then we went to a nursing home we had often visited, and he visited with the residents, with a lot of breaks because of his weakness.  Then the final trip to the vet, where he took his last breath in my arms.  Cooper gave me a lot of joy, and I miss him greatly.

:(

Re: "After all, most people never get a chance to experience that heightened sense of awareness that comes with enjoying the simple minutes before we both have to get out of bed, the car rides we share and the special meals she relishes."

I guess that's the lesson these confrontations with mortality teach us. To really cherish each moment. I was recently quite ill and among the things I thought about were both the people and animals in my life and how fortunate I am for every minute with them. Now that I feel so much better I have the word "gratitude" written in block text posted right in front of me all day at work. Just so I don't fall back into taking-for-granted-tude.

That was a very touching post.

Sophie's little face is so adorable - - all the more adorable for the graying muzzle.

Beautiful post, Dr. K. 

Needed a smile today -- now I have one, courtesy of Sophie's cute little monkey face.

:O)

The pets who have lived with us for years are the most precious. Every day we have together, especially when those days are numbered, is a gift to be cherished. When my Daisy succumbed to cancer, after a good fight and chemotherapy, I regreted the times I had been away from her in the months before she died, so being together as much as possible feels good. Taking millions of pictures is good too. Also, the best medicine are the endless kisses they get from their people. Daisy was a big girl (a mixed Collie), but if Sophie enjoys being carried, now is a good time. They have those pouches you can strap on, like they have for babies. Lots of kisses to Sophie from the gang in Maryland. And to Sophie's mom: take care of yourself. Try to stay on the sweet side of the bitter/sweet. Sophie is a lucky girl. You can see Daisy's page at http://www.dogster.com/dogs/957165.

A time bomb indeed, and an emotional roller coaster. That's why in Jerry's canine cancer blog we stress the importance of living in the now. Enjoy every moment to the fullest. Sophie doesn't fear the future, she just makes the most of life in that ever present animal now. If only that were as easy for us humans ...

Thanks for this post!

Galadriel makes an excellent point about their lives being too short anyway - it's too bad that it usually takes a diagnosis (cancer, congestive heart failure, renal disease etc) to make us really cherish every remaining day we have with our pets.

I've shared life with both people and animals with chronic/terminal illness.  It's just different; not really better or worse, just different.  The "up" side, if it can be called that, is the chance for those bittersweet moments, a chance to put things in order and perspective, say and show the love you feel.  The head spinner for me is the sudden death.  Tell everyone you care about how much you love them TODAY.

And sending some good vibs to Sophie.  I do that whenever I see someone mentioned with illness, human or pet.  Don't know where the science stands these days on praying from a distance but, hey, can't hurt.

I hear ya. When my Harvey had his probable brain-tumor that made him seizure, every day my stomach would tighten as I pulled into the driveway after work. I was scared to death that I'd come home to him dead or seizing. It was very stressful. I only had him for a few months after his seizures started, and eventually I did come home to find him dazed and twitching, which led to more seizures that wouldn't stop and a rush back to work afterhours to put him to sleep. But there was so much to cherish through those months despite the stress. Every day that I still had his sweet lopsided, one-eyed face there smiling at me was a gift. Every time he ran back and forth through the house nipping me in the butt at mealtimes made me smile, and I cherish those memories now.

What a beautiful post. Sharing our lives with an animal with a terminal illness, or even just an older animal, can be challenging, but it can also be a time of profound connection. They have so much to teach us - especially about living in the moment. Animals are so much more connected with the spiritual realm, and they know that death is nothing to fear, and that it's not the end. But they also love us so much that they often use their own illness and decline to teach us about cherishing each and every moment.

I recently lost my little cat Buckley after a short battle with restrictive cardiomyopathy (in the end, compounded with multiple other issues). She was a teacher to the very core of her being the whole three years I'd known her, and her teaching accelerated during her illness. I miss her terribly, but in retrospect, I wouldn't have wanted to miss the depth of our connection during those final weeks and months for anything. And she ultimately helped me make my dream of writing a book come true - "Buckley's Story - Lessons from a Feline Master Teacher" will be published later this year.

Dr. Khuly, I wish for you that you can keep the fear and worry at bay and enjoy whatever time you have with Sophie. And if that's her photo (which I assume it is), she looks like a very sweet, wise old soul.

Nice piece of writing, and fine thoughts. I've always said (a bit ironically) that there is no future in loving creatures with shorter life spans than ours. Ah, but there is a deep and wonderful present, filled with the amazing gift of their presence with us.

Isn't every canine a time bomb?  Their lives are so incredibly short, compared to ours. 

All four of my dogs are now seniors, and I try to treasure each day with them; who knows when something will come up to take them away from me.  In the meantime, we have lots of enjoyable time together, and I give them the best care I can, in the hopes that it will extend their time with me.

And I try not to be sad, when I think about how they'll eventually be taken away from me.

Dec 2000....my 14 year old son was diagnosed with anaplastic large cell lymphoma. One word changed our lives for ever. Fast forward to now...do I worry about the cancer coming out of remission?...I did at first. Now I know a lot more than I knew then. It's unlikely the lymphoma will come back. leukemia might, heart disease from the chemo. He has chemo brain and bipolar disease from the chemo. He has an ever present skin condition from the chemo. But I no longer live in fear of losing him. We just try and enjoy the moments we have now. and deal with his realitivly speaking good health despite all the extra gifts we never expected.

really does change how you see things. But losing a pet is so painful. It just tears at your insides. But as long as you focus on today, you'll have no woulda, coulda, shoulda's...and those are what really will get you in the end.

I hope for much more bonus time with Sophie.

I like the saying about time being a gift (that's why it's called the "present"). :-) Corny, but a sweet philosophy.

A friend of mine wrote a beautiful homage to her cherished companion after the dog passed, after a year of battling end of life illnesses with her. A sentiment of that homage has stuck with me and that this: at the beginning of every day after the illnesses began, my friend said to her dog, "I'm so glad you're still here!" 

I too believed I was fortified enough at every possible level in the known universe to deal with this kind of eventuality just last year. And the sudden loss of my little friend from this disease.  The spiritual giants of the ages have given us clues time and time again that death is nothing to fear.  "The last enemy to overcome" (fear of death) but we have a long ways to go before that  is generally accepted.  It is true perfection can only be experienced in each moment.  No matter what affliction we suffer from or don't suffer from.

Such is life in this vast and incalculable universe.

Lovely post. As someone with a dog who has a chronic disease (diabetes), I take solace in knowing that he doesn't project into the future or stress over every symptom (is that a cataract I see, or is it just the light)? On the other hand, it's a bit tougher on us caretakers, because dogs can't tell us where -- or if -- it hurts. That said, at least we don't have to be strong and put on a brave face for our dogs!