Scarlopsided

The journey a family takes when their pet is diagnosed with osteosarcoma is a rare beast. After a month of unclear diagnosis, testing, front leg amputation, and newfound hope…we received news that Scarlett will only live 2-8 months.

When Scarlett first returned home from her surgery I wanted to document the entire recovery. Not just for myself and family, but for other tripawd family’s not knowing what to expect. The first week provided tons of blogging material. As Scarlett continued to recovery and gain mobility, it seemed odd post “Scarlett is doing awesome”, “Scarlett is still doing awesome”, etc. The recent sad news left me reflecting on the entire journey, and I made a few observations.

When your canine conrad first shows signs of distress, cancer is likely the last explanation crossing your mind. Be it a means of protection our our feelings or not, we often attribute the signs to many other possible ailments. Getting the diagnosis is almost impossible to soak in. One moment they are playing, barking, running and the next they are taken over by exhaustion and the darkness resurges in their eyes. Sincerely though, making the cognitive connection was and remains a challenge. You see a happy dog on the outside but cannot comprehend the sickness on the inside.

During Scarlett’s post-op appointment, during which the vet tech goes over the surgery and vet’s notes, I continue to dwell on one very hopeful quote. The vets notes read “Scarlett surgery went very well. We hope this will help the pain and let Scarlett live a long, happy life.” I didn’t read too much into this until the vet tech chimed in with “That’s really good. They don’t like giving false hope. So that’s good”…  The constant flip flop of positive and negative news has let me frustrated and untrusting. We are give hope only to be followed by exponentially worse disappointments.

All in all, I cannot conceive a house without Scarlett in 2-8 months. I am sad that her life will be cut so short. Knowing she will be gone before her second birthday puts a knot in my throat that feels impossible to swallow. But worse that this, I am concerned that her last few months will be consumed with an indescribable pain that her humans cannot see.  I hope that we can fight through the hopelessness and make Scarlett feel happy to still be here. So…when the surgery doesn’t work…it sucks. But we would never understand the true value of love without loss.

 

*The following post is written by Scarlett’s dad, Dave.

“Hello Tripawd community, I am Scarlett’s dad and despite what other’s in the family believe…I am her favorite…at least I like to think so! My wife and I have not been able to post to Scarlett’s recovery blog because we were out of town all last week when the surgery took place and upon her return home, putting the weight of the world of Scarlett’s recovery squarely on the shoulders…they have done a miraculous job! But enough about them, this is about our favorite child…Scarlett. 🙂

When we returned Sunday and saw Scarlett for the first time we were very excited to see our baby girl (not Brandie…Scarlett) and felt we were prepared for what we were about to see. I can honestly say, despite being happy to see her it was so strange seeing her as a tripawd. You see Scarlett was a very active dog that loved playing basketball with her teenage brothers and bringing in the newspaper for mom and dad in morning, which is one reason she may have gained so much weight…lots of treats for doing good things. After a few hours at home with her the initial shock had disappeared and a great sense of happiness overtook us as we began to see her hop around fairly easily. As Brandie mentioned, slippery floors are not good and will break your heart as you watch your baby stumble, slide, and fall as they work so hard to adapt. Needless to say, we now have carpets of all shapes, sizes, and colors throughout the house to provide her with a little more traction. After a long day of giving our pup mucho love it was now time to head upstairs for bed.

Well almost, we made it to the first step and we stood there, and we stood there, and we stood there a little more. My wife on the third or forth step and Scarlett and I on the bottom. Scarlett looked up at my wife and just stared (if you could read her mind it would have went like this; “there is no friken way I’m climbing those things and you must be a crazy woman to even think I’m going to try this). Then, after one failed attempt that made us almost cry, the kangaroo dog hopped up the stairs like they were nothing. She hopped to her bed, located next to ours, and after much loving, hugging, and kissing Scarlett settled down for the night (at least we thought).

At 2:47 a.m. our entire family was awoken buy a sound one would never expect to come from any animal. It was a screaming, almost shreaking noise that was so loud it made us all jump out of bed and nearly gave me a heart attack. As I wrestled for dear life with the covers and struggled to turn on the light my cat like wife pounced out of bed to comfort Scarlett before I could get the night light turned on. So I ask this wonderful community….what the heck was that noise? Is it normal and has anyone else experienced this near death experience?”

It is impossible for a diagnosis of canine osteosarcoma to not come at a bad time. So it comes as no surprise, that I perceived the road leading to her tripawdism as particularly complicated. The very subject can morph the “most wonderful time of the year” into a Grinchy, worrisome holiday…as was the case with the Benoit family.  The vet anticipated results from Scarlett’s recent biopsy would arrive the Friday before Christmas. After a gruelingly sluggish week Dr. Dog phoned with inconclusive, but seemingly hopeful results. He said, “It doesn’t look like cancer”. Mixed with my frustration when reflecting on this phone call is also the feeling of gratitude. The false hope allowed our family to move past the fear that we may loose our friend and embrace the joy of Christmas.

Considering our membership in the Tripawd community, we all know this story doesn’t end here. A few days later we receive the news and immediately scheduled the amputation for the following Monday…the day AFTER my entire family (excluding myself and adult brother) would depart on a cruise to the Bahamas! My folks are master preparers, so they naturally purchased travel insurance when booking their cruise. But cruise lines don’t include dogs in the “full refund incase of injury/death/something really bad happens to a “family member”. Ridiculous, I know. So cashing in on the insurance would result in a massive loss. What all of this boils down to is that my family was not able to be there during Scarlett’s first week of recovery…something they were very unhappy about. But be it fate or just a happy coincidence, the oldest Benoit children’s lack of vacationing funds ensured Scarlett 2 well equipped nurses. This blog has enable the remaining members of the family to catchup on the recovery process. Now they are all itching to add their 2 cents about their beloved Scarlett. From time to time, I will be adding posts written by other members of the family. One from Dad is coming soon! To learn more about our family click “The Family” on the menu bar.

Happy Monday! Scarlett climbed stairs this weekend!…albeit against doctor’s orders…but she followed me 🙂

Scarlett’s return home after surgery was filled with smiles and laughter. The light in her eyes, once dimmed by the pain of her deteriorating femur, had returned. She seemed to be completely oblivious to the lack of limb. And I admit, her new hop was quite endearing. In my mind she had transformed from a hurting pup to a magical golden kangaroo! This was the peak of the roller coaster.

I began blogging Scarlett’s new tripawd adventure the moment we picked her up from the hospital – which you can watch in this video.  The amazing tripawd community offered tons of advice and support through their comments on our posts. Mixed in with the cheers of encouragment was the disclaimer that there would likely be ups and downs in the recovery process. I suppose this is common knowledge. I even found myself relaying this message to other members of the family. But seeing her so upbeat during the time I figured would be the most physically difficult, I began to believe Scarlett was the exeption to this rule. No Sir-ree. Upon day 2 of her recovery, I began to see changes in her behavior and mood…

Hard Wood Floors – The beautiful hardwood floors that my parents spent a small fortune on where now a huge inconvenience. The wee puppy Scarlett would once glide across the glossy surface after an intentional running head start, only to collide with a wall. This was a playtime activity for Skrit (family nickname) that would provide endless laughs for the family…. We tried to prepare the area for Scarlett’s homecomming by covering slippery surfaces with area rugs. With all rugs now being used for de-slipping purposes, there were still spots of wood floor exposed. Scarlett’s front paw seemed to have a magnetic attraction to the scarce patches of hardwood. And each time she would stumble, loose balance, slip, and sometimes fall to the ground. I didn’t want her to become more aware of her “dissability”. So with each stumble, I would shower her with encouragement and excitement. Either way, she is now afraid of the floors because she knows she may slip and fall. It breaks my heart to see her head down and frozen in place when called to go “outside”, knowing she may encounter wood.  I much prefer the old carpet spotted with puppy pee stains.

Doggy Diet – Scarlett is 80 lbs. She needs to be 65 lbs. Long before we receive Scarlett’s diagnosis, her vet offed adviced that she loose some weight. Looking back I now see that our family did not take this very seriously. In contrast to humans, it is not nearly as easy to spot an overweight dog. Especially a golden retriever whose hair makes up half of their mass. Is there even a dog under all of that hair?  If there’s this much hair on the couch, and she’s not bald, how much hair is there really?!? Another weakness was treats. Scarlett was so obedient and SMART! In her first few months the family taught her a plethora of tricks. A favorite family pastime was watching Scarlett trick shows, which required many edible rewards. During family dinners Mom would always say, “Don’t give her human food.” I think that secretly everyone wanted to be the nice human that would sneak a bit of steak under the table. Problem is, everyone was that “nice human”, including Mom. No wonder she sat under the dinner table.

The extra weight doesn’t just make her look fluffier anymore, it makes her life more difficult. She struggles to lift herself from the ground. The front leg begins to tremble if she stands too long, and has even buckled beneath her a few times. This particular struggle is most difficult for me because we humans are to blame. I know that with the strong will of her humans, Scarlett will meet her ideal weight. But readjusting to her new condition would likely be more comfortable and with less discouraging tumbles if her humans had listened the first time.

While this isn’t our typical uplifting post, it is reality. There are ups and many downs to this process. But I am happy my dog is alive and with practice, will be able to live an active lifestyle again. It is important to stay positive for our pups. Although they do not morn the loss of limb as humans do, they certainly can read their humans emotions. Each time I wanted to be sad, I put on a happy face…for Scarlett.

Another video of Scarlett just being awesome.

Welp, we survived the night. There was much deliberation about the most ideal place for Scarlett’s first night. Should she stay downstairs with me sleeping on the couch? Could I even leave her downstairs on her own, checking on her periodically through the night?…okay, that’s not even realistic. Or, would we both sleep upstairs?

After lugging the 80 lb pup upstairs, we created a bed fit for a king right next to the human bed. Having her humans in arms reach was a necessity. While Scarlett has always been a very affectionate creature, it seems her traumatic stay away from home has amplified this trait. Seriously, it’s like attachment on steroids. Stop petting her for even 2 seconds and you’ve got a whimpering wuss on your hands. Don’t get me wrong…I love snuggling the giant fluff ball. But with everything aside from Scarlett being neglected, the house has thrown up on itself. At least that’s what it looks like.

We maintained the human on bed, dog on floor arrangement for the majority of the night…until I was awoken at 3am to the sounds of mischief and heavy panting. Apparently Scarlett became wrestles and wanted to walk around the room. Typically not a big deal. But the lack of 3-legged experience in a pitch black room left Scar trapped in a corner not knowing her way out. I guess 3 am is as good a time as ever to learn how to “back up”. Worried that she may go on another twilight exploration, I grabbed my pillow and snuggled up with Scarlett on the floor. She flopped on the bare ground…so I got the doggy bed. Zzzzzzzzz