In his prize-fight against cancer, my dog Sam is looking like a champ to me.
OK, so four lumps on his skin turned out to be mast cell tumors; that was tough. But a battery of tests revealed that the cancer had failed to spread to his insides. That was cause for elation.
It was time to consult the specialists at New York City’s Animal Medical Center.
Until now, my experience with that esteemed hospital had centered on the nerve-wracking atmosphere of the ICU. This time, I got to know the serene eighth floor, where oncologists and their patients do the brave, quiet work of battling cancer.
There, we met with Dr. Nicole Leibman, who examined my dog, kissed him full on the mouth, and announced, "This is not a death sentence by any stretch. This is fixable."
Sam expressed approval of his new physician’s bedside manner by gleefully going belly-up.
We weren’t out of the woods, however: Sam’s tumors would have to be removed ASAP. "This is going to be a chronic problem," Dr. Leibman warned. "According to the literature, boxers, Boston terriers, Labs, beagles, and schnauzers are at higher risk, but we also see a lot of pit bulls with mast cell tumors."
Sam is a pit bull. For the rest of his life, I will have to be on the lookout for lumps.
And wouldn’t you know, on the day before his scheduled surgery, I discovered one on his shoulder: tumor number five.
Cancer is a tireless opponent; you can’t relax for a minute.
On October 7th, shortly after dawn, Sam walked to the hospital. He was thirsty and in dire need of a breakfast treat (in preparation for general anesthesia, he’d fasted since midnight). Still, he walked like a winner on his way to a big bout, swaggering confidently down York Avenue and getting good-luck licks from two pretty female dogs.
When I picked him up the following afternoon, he was wearing a morphine patch and an Elizabethan collar – a lampshade-like contraption designed to prevent dogs from bothering painful wounds.
He whimpered in pain; he looked beat. But a few hours later, his appetite returned – a great sign. He devoured a can of organic venison dog food. The next day, he feasted on barbecued brisket.
I fully intend to fortify Sam with all his favorite forms of protein. He’ll need his strength, because the fight against cancer never stops.
