BELIEVE IN MIRACLES; Another milestone for Jinx

BELIEVE IN MIRACLES

Jinx celebrated Christmas 2009 with a large knuckle bone. She is my Christmas Miracle and the best gift I could ask for. Recall that when we left the UW-veterinary hospital in Madison in September they sent us home to manage the pain and die. They told us that she had a peripheal nerve sheath tumor and that it was terminal. If they amputated her leg, the median return time for the cancer was projected at 7.5 months. Without amputation, they told me to expect the tumor would invade her spine in 2 months.

We returned home, grieved and regrouped. I took Jinx to Dr. Strickfaden in Depere, who is a holistic vet. Anyone who follows this blog has read of the path we have taken. Jinx takes biocome treatment every other week, to support pain management and energy levels. She only gets 1/2 deramaxx each day, along with Chinese herbs for energy. I watched in trepidation for any sign that she was stumbling or losing the battle. Thanksgiving came and went and she remained strong and happy. In fact, I asked a friend to give her a bite with the bite pillow and she hit so hard she knocked him off his feet, as he did not expect she had that kind of strength! She is on three legs, with the affected foot atrophied but gets along well as a tripod.

A wonderful friend, David Jackson, volunteered to take photos of Jinx for me. I wanted to get a photograph to have a nice portrait of her and to use in my Christmas cards. Jackson is a professional photographer who does some very interesting things with lighting. He took the photos of Jinx gratis. I am eternally grateful. We took the photographs in front of twisted metal at a rubble site similar to the type of environment in which we worked.

Shortly before Christmas, Dr. Strickfaden told me of a new drug that has had some success in "eating" cancers. It is preferably injected into the tumor, but with Jinx that area is so near to her spine and under the scapula so it is inaccessible. Instead, we use an oral version. The drug is called "Neoplasene". It is expensive, and if it shows success she will continue to be on a maintenance dose. I asked Tom to pick up a refill for me and when he returned home he was shaking his head and said, "we have to start bagging Jinx's poop." I figured they must need to examine in for sloughing cancer cells or something but I asked "why?" He replied, "because at the price of this stuff, she must be shitting GOLD!"

One thing that I did discuss with the vet was the bad advice I received from one of the assistants who called to tell me how to apply the medication. The gal told me to use soft food and to conceal the medicine, which has a nasty taste. She said dogs can lose their appetite with this treatment. I told her that dogs have an incredible sense of smell, and also are not stupid. If you take a food they like, and make it taste and smell terrible, do you think they will eat it the next time? Not a chance! And then you are set on a spiraling downward path of trying new things to entice the dog to eat. Instead, I use a liquid syringe and just pop the icky stuff down her throat. She knows she has to do that in order to be released to get the GOOD STUFF!! The good stuff includes two tablespoons of yogurt (any dog on medication needs probiotics) with some canned dog food and her Deramaxx tab in the morning, and a bowl with 1/2 cup Orijin dog food soaked in hot water. She eagerly waits for meal time and her appetite has not diminished in the least. When I explained the logic, Dr Strickfaden agreed with me and understood. I suggested that they might be causing dogs to actually stop eating with the advice they had given me.

But here it is Christmas 2009 and the dog that the UW told me would likely be dead in two months (actually suggesting they thought the cancer had already invaded her spine but wasn't showing on the MRI based on her neurologic reactions) and she is still here, still happy and still the same sweet yet crazy malinois she has always been. Tonight, just for giggles, I asked her to do an Object Guard on a food bowl and she gladly and SERIOUSLY complied!! I gave her bite rewards and I swear she smiled! If she is dying, no one has told her yet.

I know it is possibly too much to ask or expect that the cancer will disappear, but I do hope. And I do wonder whether she might regain use of her foot and whether I will need to massage the toes to loosen it up again? I'm very afraid of amputation because it has been my experience that the cancer cells just go crazy when you insult the body like that, so as long as she can get along on three legs but holding up the fourth, we'll continue that way. The story to this point is certainly a Miracle. She has survived and blessed us for two more months than was predicted. Yes, I realize that cancer is unpredictable and both people and animals outlast diagnosis at times.

But today, we have another Miracle.

Christmas 2009

Wow! Another Christmas has come and gone. Here in Black Creek, Wisconsin we received over 16 inches of snow in a season opening blizzard. That makes things difficult for managing the property. Driveways and paths have to be plowed, kennels shoveled out. Shortly after that, a dose of freezing rain left us with a hard, slippery shelf that I hesitate to let dogs run together on.

Tom and I decided to go for a stroll around the property on snowshoes. His are much bigger, the traditional warden snowshoe and worked better on the surface. I have the small ,light weight metal version and they broke through slightly and I ended up following in his wake. We took Quinn along for the walk and even watching him I worried, as he would travel well on the crust and then break through. It made me very happy that I didn't have two dogs racing around with abandon and injuring themselves. The Quinnster was grateful for the opportunity to take advantage of the adventure; perhaps a little too much so! He would routinely turn around, wind up and run back to pummel me, or to throw himself at my feet, ON my snowshoes for a belly rub. Hard to resist!

Ridley, my newest stripey addition (Dutch Shepherd) had her own outside time. Cooper FINALLY got tired of having her harrass him when he tried to pee, and he ground her into the snow. She is none the worse for it. I want her to experience a Quinn correction but will have to wait for better weather. She loves the snow, as well.

She has one very bad habit, which I observed when I picked her up at the breeder... she is a shit eater. This is not an attractive quality and I had been successful at avoiding the issue by picking it up in her pen or correcting her physically, but with my shoulder injury and Tom being in charge of getting her outside, she has had too much unsupervised outdoor time to play with frozen turds. Sorry for the graphic nature, but that's the way it is. This is a horrible habit that can be eliminated by keeping the puppy area picked up but now I have to deal with it.

The hoar frost made a winter faerie land that could not be ignored. To be able to walk in such beauty is something that can not be underappreciated. To live in, and be able to share it with people and dogs that you love is a blessing. This is the beauty of the world that Christ gave us, a shining celebration of His birth.

It Takes a Village

Oh my gosh, what can I say about the terrific friends I have? As anyone reading this blog knows, I am a hunting widow this week. If only it were that simple! I am a hunting widow who is recovering from shoulder surgery, had a dog injured during the week requiring her to be kept indoors and hand-walked, another extra dog in the house in preparation to being shipped to his new home so that he can be acclimated to the crate time, in addition to taking care of a kennel full of dogs. Prior to Tom leaving, I had barely left my recliner but I assured him I could take care of things while he was gone.

I have the best friends in the world.!! Sue drives me to physical therapy, and checks in via text messages to make sure I am doing my home exercises. It is tough to watch a friend in such pain, and she masks it well by yelling at me like a coach. (or at least, I assume it is masking. Her husband said I should have known better than to ask a Hatcher for sympathy!!) I told her she makes a better hockey coach but the truth is, it is exactly what is need for this typ e of rehab. It does hurt and I do have to push through the pain. There is no getting around it. I use this as an excuse for the two of us to visit Barnes and Noble after every session, so it has worked out nicely from my perspective!

Yesterday Laurel B came over and cleaned kennels and took Chica out for a walk while Denise W took Ridley and then Epic for their turns. When they asked what they could do to help, I felt one of the nicest things was to get my poor poochies out for some exercise. Tomorrow Sam is driving up from Madison to do the same. I feel better just knowing that my dogs are taken care of. When I posted on FB of my difficulties this week, I had so many friends offering to help and I appreciate it so much.

I've been handling the feeding with no problem. The morning routine takes me an hour, to get everyone out and taken care of. Jinx goes out first. She is always in a hurry to get back in for breakfast. She gets multiple medications with her meal. While she is out, I feed Kia, the Siamese cat, who begins protesting and attempting to lead me to where her food is at first sign of movement in the morning. Toyota, my other Siamese, is in a cat cage as he does not tolerate changes to his routine well, and will mark in the house when disturbed. With all that is going on lately, keeping him sequestered is the safest thing to do. I check his food and water. Once Jinx is fed, she goes back to the bedroom. I let Cooper and Ridley out together to run around abit and then Cooper goes to the outside kennel and Ridley goes to her little exercise pen on the back patio, where she gets a morning meal. Inevitabley, she will spill her water dish in play. I really do need to put a bucket in there, attached to the fence. Next, Epic goes out to his outside kennel. Finally, Chica comes out of her crate, satellite dish in place. I take off the collar, and she sits nicely while I tape a plastic bag to the paw with the sutures to keep it clean and dry. She doesn't mind the bag at all but I have trouble keeping it in place. I have to hand walk her to potty because she does not realize she is injured and would run with wild abandon if allowed off leash. Yesterday I asked Laurel to walk her a few minutes in the yard but when I called for her, she was way down on the lane and Laurel said "it doesn't seem to bother her!" Well, no, it doesn't. But the silly little dog has a high pain threshold and I have to be the careful one so that the foot does not become infected. When we come back in, I let her run around in the house for about an hour while I check the computer. I give her the Clavamox and make sure she doesn't cough it back up, as she has done several times. She mostly sits in front of me, waiting for me to acknowledge her, or tries to get closer by putting her front feet up on the chair to get petted. Eventually, I replace the elizabethean collar and put her back in the crate. Whew! House critters taken care of.

Then I walk to the kennel to get those dogs fed and watered. I bring extra treats so that when I remove their dishes they don't run out but wait for an additional yummy. They are blowing coat, silly things! Didn't they see the snowflakes this morning? Even Ali, who was bare naked last year after his allergic reaction, has a lovely thick coat in need of brushing. That will probably be next on my "to do" list, though brushing my require more use of my arm that I have available right now. By 10:00 I have the morning routine finished. During the rest of the day I will have to alternately get Ridley, Chica, and Jinx out again. Evening medications, another feeding and that is pretty much the doggie day.

This morning I received a call from the greenhouse in Seymour, asking if I would be home because they had a delivery for me. I naturally assumed it was from Tom, a sweet apology of sorts for being gone. It is a lovely bouquet but the name on it is from Tom, alright, but not MY Tom! It is from Tom S, a very nice man who comes for private obedience lessons. How sweet and thoughtful is that! I will definately mention to my husband, though and maybe turn it into two bouquets!! ha ha! The flowers did indeed brighten my day. They are one more reminder of the wonderful people that I have around me.

I love my Village!!

new treatment for Jinx

www.dogcancerblog.com

Jinx and I visited Dr. Strickfaden today for our regular biocom treatment. We have been on a 2 week protocol but I felt we needed to get an extra visit in after discovering she was experiencing pain in her spine last week. Both of us have been disrupted this week with Tom gone, Jinx trying to comfort me in my own therapy, and two extra dogs in the household.... it's enough to drive a healthy dog to their bed! I felt that an extra session would be helpful, if only to relieve stress and renew energy.

Dr Strickfaden mentioned a new treatment to try for Jinx. She had discussed it with the doctor who has used it successfully and felt it was worth trying. It is called "Neoplasene" and is apparently a combination of eastern and western medicine; in reading it is derived from the Native American bloodroot. Ideally, we would inject it into the tumor itself, but the location posed a problem. In reading about the drug, it can open up a wound as the cancer cells slough off, and that might be difficult in the location of the tumor, so near the spine and under the scapula. So we are trying the oral medication. I was warned that it tasted very bad and to disguise it in something yummy, but I know what terrific noses dogs have--- Jinx in particular--- and that trick would work only once! I need to make sure she ingests it, so I just drop it down her throat using a syringe. Clearly, it DID taste like crap, but this was quickly forgotten amidst the extra Natural Balance treats I placed in the dish. It is not cheap, and I don't want to become one of those crazy people who will try anything to prolonge an unsustainable life, but a deep spark in my heart asks "what if THIS is the treatment that works?" Afterall, the UW-vet hospital staff left me with no options other than pain management. And, you know what, I'm okay with not chasing rainbows and attempting unworkable solutions or keeping Jinx hanging on just for my sake. However, if this medicine can truly cure her, wouldn't that just be something? We are already over our "expiration date" and have nothing to lose.

In the course of researching the Neoplasene, I also found the dog cancer blog that I posted above. It seems to be an interesting site for questions and answers. I don't think I am going backwards in the grief process by now discovering a thread of hope, and I'm not being unrealistic about it. I am open to anything that will assist Jinx and I on this journey.

The Chica Crisis

Oh my gosh! Within hours of sending Tom on his way, with assurances that everything would be fine here, it wasn't. I thought I would go up to the kennel and feed while it was still daylight, get things well in hand right off the bat. There was the usual ruckus when I entered. I can't say that I noticed anything unusual about Chica other than that she was jumping up. In hindsight, I wonder if she was already clinging to the fence at that moment. I started on the far end, with Ali. The empty kennels of the two pointers made things go a little faster and I was almost to Chica's end when I heard an unusual noise. It caught my attention, but it wasn't a shriek of panic or hurt and I called out "just a minute, Chica, I'm almost there."

A couple dogs later and I stood in front of her kennel. Chica seemed to be attached--- stuck --- to the kennel fence. I dropped the food where I stood and ran to her. At first, I thought somehow the toes were twisted and caught and tried to pull her off. She was stuck fast. I examined it more closely and my heart went to my throat to discover she was actually impaled on the wire. Imagine the four squares of a section of chain link. The top cross bar had broken the weld, most likely from her incessant bouncing off the sides of the kennel. When she jumped against it in her excitement, that top piece bowed outward under the pressure and the foot slipped through the opening. When she withdrew, the wire went through her foot. She struggled long enough to run the wire through and tear the flesh, but not enough to completely damage her foot by tearing it loose. It is a credit that she has her momma's temperament, as she seemed to understand I was there to help her and she did not bite or struggle against me. Where I found the strength to lift her with my injured left arm, I do not know. Adrenalin, I'm sure. For a moment, once I got her up there, I didn't know how I would get her off. I thought I might have to call someone to help me, and worried how long she could stay like that. I knew I couldn't leave her. I carefully pushed back the piece of wire from the broken weld and slid the foot sideways until it was free. Frankly, I thought I would vomit.

Once freed, what did she do? Ran immediately to her spilled dinner and began to eat as if nothing had happened. I let her outside where I could see better and she ran on the foot with no demonstration of pain. However, when I examined it, the injury looked bad. I was unable to restrain her and look adequately, so I called my friend, Sue, who drove over and agreed that a vet visit was in order. Chica seemed oblivious.

I drove her to the Animal Referral Center, which I think any animal owner in the Fox Valley, hates to hear mention of in an emergency setting. First of all, you know that you will first need to assure them you can pay for treatment and secure it by check or credit card. We were first seen by a triage nurse who looked at the foot and agreed that it needed treatment (duh! isn't that why we were there??) but since Chica didn't seem to be in pain and wasn't bleeding all over their floor (this was odd... I even looked in the kennel today and found no blood at the scene. The wound never bled) so we apparently weren't a high priority. I was in pain with my shoulder, which was just beginning to realize it had been asked to do things it wasn't prepared for, and I had not taken any medication. My plan had been to feed dogs, then take some medication, do a physical therapy session and put my feet up. So much for plans! I asked if we could wait in a room so I didn't have to keep hold of Chica, and we were escorted to a room where ultimately Chica curled up on the floor and I on the small bench seat, and we both fell asleep. When I woke it was an hour later, I was cramped and sore and we still had not seen anyone. Finally, the PRE-treatment assistant came in and took a history. More waiting. I was beginning to wonder if the wound would just heal itself as we waited. I walked to the front desk and advised them I was going to sleep in my vehicle and to call me when they were ready to see my dog. Another hour passed. FINALLY, they were ready. I asked how long the treatment would take and the vet told me 2-3 hours. I opted to drive home where I could rest until they called me to pick her up, but the layers of treatment and length of time at that place, especially considering what they demand of the animal owner, is ridiculous. When the vet called, I told her that I would pick up medication at the vet in the morning, to save money. When I paid the almost $500 bill, I found they had charged me for meds. By that time, I was just too tired to argue or care. In my opinion, they are a necessary but unpleasant evil. I had arrived at approximately 4 pm and at 10:06 I was on my way back home with my repaired poochie.

They said they sutured three layers. Her foot is bandaged and she has to wear a plastic hood, which she hates. Almost as much as she hates having to be in a crate. I have to put a plastic bag over the bandage when she goes out to keep it from getting wet. Tomorrow the bandages come off and I hope there is no sign of infection. I do notice that she is limping a little today, but that could be because she finally notices it is hurt! I hope she does not tear the foot up, trying to escape the crate. To have to go through all this again-- and the expense-- would just be awful. And I have had quite enough drama for the week, thank you very much!

I have observed how dear Chica is. She has the temperament of her mother, Roya. And probably the high pain threshold ,as well! Despite her injury, she never snapped at me and has been such a love. I take the hood off for her potty walks and then let her roam around the house for a little bit and she is very good in the house, stopping back to me for cuddles and hugs. I guess I wasn't lying when I told Tom I could handle things here well enough. I did. But I had help.

Annual Boys Trip

Tom is busy packing for the annual boys' bird hunting trip to South Dakota. There is a small group of friends who make the trek annually to hunt pheasants. One of them will make a trip to the cheese factory and stock up on good old Wisconsin cheese curds to plie the locals with. The original introduction to the area came through a friend I worked with at the police department, whose family still lives in the area. Generally Tom will come back home with new stories to tell about Ray in his youth, shared over a cup of coffee at the local diner. The boys stay at Miss Ruby's boarding house.

His brother, Jerry, is part of the group, as is our good friend, Jerry and another friend from the D.A.'s office who owns one of our Small Munsterlander pups. This year I imagine Jerry will bring his labrador and Tom will probably bring two munsters, and Rob will bring his youngster, Eddie. I am looking forward to seeing photos and hearing how they do, particulary young Eddie who sounds to have had quite a good season so far. Our two, Easy and Arec, both love to hunt and are easy dogs to work. We boarded Arec's sister, Atienne, who is known only as "Booger" and she looks so much Arec and their mother, Aryan. She is a beautiful dog,and also quite a good hunting dog. She went home today and her owners admired how handsome Arec is. He is a sweetie, too. I really like him. I may be one of the few wives who encourages her husband to GO! HUNT!!!

I'll be holding down the fort here in Tom's absence. This will be my first week of being functional, post-surgery. Tom was worried about me and asked repeatedly if he should go on the trip. This is really the only recreational trip Tom takes and it would take more than a mere shoulder surgery to cause me to tell him to stay home! I just hope the weather is relatively nice so that I don't spend my week slogging wet dogs around! I'll look forward to hearing all about the hunting, the practical jokes and tall tales when they get home and until then, pray for safe travels and a safe trip that brings them all back home.

Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving 2009. Tom and I were invited to the home of Ute and David Anderson, where we spent Thanksgiving last year, as well. I work with them and their autism assistance dog, Gracie and they are wonderful, wonderful people.

The evolution of how we spend our Thanksgiving, and I suppose, holidays in general, is interesting. When I was young all the men would be out deer hunting, and usually stay at my Uncle Ray's cabin, and on Thanksgiving everyone would join at my parent's home for a huge Thanksgiving feast. My mom is a great cook and we could count on dinner to include turkey, potatoes and gravy, cranberry salad (a delicious family recipe!), wild rice (REAL wild rice), many other side dishes and a host of pies for dessert. The house would be filled with relatives. Men would relax for a few hours, watch the football game on TV, and then head back to the cabin. Through the years, my parents even built an addition on the house, off the kitchen, to hold multiple tables for such feasts.

When I moved away, I came back for quite a few years to celebrate. Eventually, the cousins moved, we all married and holidays were split between other families. Little by little, the crowd dwindled. After my father in law was widowed and living alone in Milwaukee, we celebrated Thanksgiving with him. When he was still able to drive, he sometimes drove up to join us for buffet at the Paper Valley Hotel. Later, Tom and I and and his brother's family would travel to Milwaukee and take Joe out, or bring dinner in to prepare. When Joe passed away a huge void was left. Thanksgiving meant Joe. Now what? We thought we would probably just go to a buffet in town, but Ute and David invited us to a family dinner and I guess a new tradition was born.

Back home, the family now gathers at the home of my nephew, Nicholas. When dinner is at your parents, you assume you are invited, or at least, if you show up they will throw an extra plate on the table for you. Not so much when it is at someone else's house. I *think* if I had said I was interested to come up, I could have attended but there was no invitation extended. As events unfolded in the past two days, I would have had to rearrange that plan, anyway, after my sister un-friended me on Facebook. Shocking, isn't it? Apparently not as uncommon as you might think, as many of my FB friends responded to advise of their own family tribulations. I'm going to give up my age when I mention that I graduated high school in 1974. Without having to take off your shoes and socks, suffice it to say that is MANY years ago. I have lived apart from my family for more years than I was with them. For people who live near their families and stay regularly in touch, you have a different dynamic. I don't know if that is better or worse, but the fact is I have an existence separate from that of my family. They know peripheal events and information, but they aren't out on the dog training field with me on Saturdays. They aren't traveling to competitions and sharing tears of wins, losses, death and injury. They don't see movies with me, or go shopping for crafts, attending fairs and seminars. When I was still working as a police officer, many of the stories were withheld. They know very little about who I am now. In some respects, I can't blame my sister for wanting to keep me in a comfortable defination for her, which is leftover from high school. She commented, in her farewell post, "I forgot who I was dealing with." I wanted to ask "who is that person? who do you think I am?"
Because I don't think she has any idea. To strike a further blow, a niece and nephew also posted comments in a format known as "facebook fishing". Silly me. I thought they liked me. But again, they don't see me or know me, either, so will be influenced by the people closest to them. Still, it was a particularly hurtful couple of days.

My brother and sister and I are essentially strangers. We know a little about one another from half a century ago. We see each other perhaps once a year. These are not the people I spend my time with. In fact, sometimes I find myself wondering what there is to talk about, since we don't share the same interests. Or the same political afflilation, which makes it even more difficult. If they took a quiz, chances are they would know more personal information about a particular movie or TV star than me. And, I them.

So Thanksgiving this year is particularly bittersweet. A new line was drawn, separating me from the family of my past. It does make me much more grateful for my friends, however-- the people who do know me.

A few things I am grateful for include:
+for the God who has blessed us in so many ways, even though we fail to appreciate it at times
+ My dear husband, who sometimes drives me crazy, but is always there for me, even when I drive HIM crazy!
+ good friends who are there in the good times and bad
+my family. They might not like me, but they're family and I love them
+the love of good dogs! and a passion for training that has taken me across the country and to Europe, and put me in touch with so many terrific people
+ two parents, still living and in relatively good health who love me enough to drive 5 hours to bring me homemade chicken noodle soup!
+that my husband and I are both in pretty good health, considering. so what if I have rebuilt shoulders? rehab is going MUCH better this time, which is another reason to be grateful!
+no family deaths, illnesses or tragedies to mar the holiday. My heart goes out to those who experience such things
+this great house and property, where I can explore and dream
+every extra day with my Jinxy
+for the men and women in the armed forces and Law Enforcement who sacrifice and keep us safe
+for this free country. might not always like the leadership, but the system allows for change and the ability to disagree
+possibilities. always great things to dream of and plan for. the glass is always half full.

I love Christmas. I love the 24-7 radio stations playing holiday music. I love the specials, particularly classics such as "White Christmas", "Miracle on 34th Street", "Christmas in Connecticut" and "Rudolph". Yes, Rudolph. I don't know where or how we will spend Christmas. There is a chance we will visit my parents shortly before the holiday. I don't want to miss an opportunity to spend time with them, because they will not be here forever. So I will look at that glass, and do everything I can do to fill it up with love. To acknowledge that the people who want to be mean spirited toward me, have their own issues and are just angry that I don't fit in the box they prefer. I love them because they are family, but I can't make them like me. I am Thankful that we are still ALIVE and able to make repairs, if they so choose.

Be Thankful every day. God Bless you all.