Prison Farm

Hello everyone.

Guess what? I have another whisker. That's two now, one on each side. And lots of white hair. I went and saw Jacque and Jenny at the vet and they were very impressed with my new look. (That's me at the back, if you look closely you'll see my nose).

Mum and Dad promised me a special celebration for all my hard work growing another whisker and I could see the car getting packed. How exciting - a trip to the farm.

The air was fresh, it was a great day for lying around on the concrete waiting for cows to wander past. But wait on. What is that??

I'd forgotten. We have a fence to stop us chasing cows. Dad did most of the construction, and Mum helped with the finishing touches and the rock surround (all hand collected from around the farm). No escaping now.

As you can see, we aren't real impressed with our new space.

Happy Easter - 5th April 2010

Hi Everyone

I am now five months post diagnosis and I'm really starting to enjoy life again. My nose is heaps better, as you'll see from the photo. Still regrowing my hair and I have one 1/4 inch long BLACK whisker. Mum says I look distinguished. I have started to play with my toys and also with Misty and life is getting back to normal.

We are just back from our Easter weekend away. Mum and Dad took us to the farm - although I am now calling it the Prison Farm. Dad built us a fence. A solid, escape-proof fence to stop young Misty from chasing cows/kangaroos/cars. She is such a naughty dog. Of course, if she is chasing, I need to provide moral support by chasing as well. Now all we can do is bark and warn the cows not to come near. Not fair!

Mum took us up the road to the Mt Lindsay Road, a long walk for little legs. Dad took us along the fence line where he has been clearing a tractor-wide path. There were lots of sniffs and things to explore. We didn't make it to the river this trip - the cows are down that end of the block so we didn't want to tempt fate by walking past them.

You'll see Misty's photo above. This is her watching Dad leave for work in the mornings. She does this every day, and if she hears Dad's car coming home, she stands up to wave hello. Now that she's been with us a while, she's really part of our pack. We have a cuddle together during the day (see photo above). Mum hadn't seen this before, so she decided to take our photo to show Dad. And you.

Kreative Blogger Award

Many moons ago, my good friend Eleni bestowed this award on me, and finally now all that medical stuff is over and done with, I’ve got time to accept the challenge.

What challenge?

I’m going to tell you 7 fun and interesting things about myself. Fun? Interesting? Hmmm.... well here goes.

1. I was born at Peninsula Animal Aid and two of the four puppies in my litter died unexpectedly at 11 weeks old. Mum was out running one day and ran into the man who took the other surviving puppy, whose name is Max. He is very good looking (just like me).

2. I like dry Weet-Bix, straight from the box. If forced, I will eat them with milk.

3. I did my cruciate leaping off the retaining wall near the clothes line, while protecting the family home from the little dogs next door. This has resulted in ongoing problems, four different plaster casts (like the red one in the photo above), years confined to the garage while it healed and a new fence halfway across the yard to stop all further access to the retaining wall.

4. I have never figured out how to jump up into the car. Can put the front paws up on the seat, but the back paws need help every time.

5. I have a red and black tartan dog jumper that looks very David Jones/Myer and keeps me toasty warm in winter.

6. I am in love with Margaret across the road and the A-team at the vet – Jenny, Tricia and Jacqui. And especially Lindsey, my doggie physio, who got me walking again.

7. I have learnt to roll over onto my back so vets and vet physios can look at my bung leg. When I was learning, Mum used to sing me a song for rolling over. It goes like this:

There were ten in the bed and the little one said

Roll over

Roll over

And they all rolled over and one fell out.

I’m sure you know the song. Anyway I’ll let you in on a secret. I can roll over all by myself, no singing involved. But Mum thinks I can only roll if she sings. So every time we go to the vet, I make her sing… It makes my tail wag every time I think of it.

OK so that's me done. Now I'm meant to nominate 7 others to do this. But I don’t know any other dogs that blog. So if you think you’d like to take up the challenge, feel free to accept the Kreative blogger award on my behalf.

Third Check Up - 1st March 2010

The first day of Autumn dawned rainy and bleak - unfortunately it was the day of my third check up. I spent the morning curled in a ball, saving my strength for my afternoon and the trip in the car. Mum spent the morning buying Misty another bed, after yet another mattress has gone to dog heaven, courtesy of Misty.

Dr Rod nearly didn't recognise me - I've done such a good job growing hair on my nose. The pink skin where my scab was is gradually closing over and going black again. My lip is also healing nicely, and inside my mouth looks great. Tiny whiskers are pushing their way through and by next check up I should have a fabulous covering of hair. All white.

But, since last check up I grew two lumps - one fist sized bulge on my side and a small pea sized lump near my front leg. Dr Rod got me to lie down and before I knew what was happening I was having needle biopsies on each lump. Within five minutes we had the good news - they are fatty lumps, not cancer. Mum and Dad are very relieved.

We went to the farm on the weekend. I love the farm - lots of fresh air, exercise and best of all - a collection of bones to chew (which is what I was doing in the background when Mum took the photo of us above). Mum walked us all the way to the Mt Lindsay Road on Saturday - a very long walk for a dog. It rained all the way back, and its been raining on and off ever since. We did manage a quick walk to the travelling stock reserve on Sunday, but no walks to the river this trip. Mum says we have new cows, and that Misty and I aren't allowed to chase them, so we didn't have any unsupervised exploring time.

All this rain makes for good sleeping weather. Yawn, stretch. I probably should get back to it...

February 21st 2010 - And then there were whiskers

We had a hint last week that there might have been some progress on the whisker front. Mum didn't want to jinx it so we've been waiting patiently all week to take some photos.

The good news - I am regrowing my hair. The other news - it's white, ginger and blond. There's not much in the way of black ones. And there is definitely one white whisker way out in front of all the rest. The white patch in the centre of my nose is gradually going black - this is where I rubbed my nose when it was itchy.

To celebrate, Mum and Dad took Misty and me to the new bike path near home. It meanders along a creek and during last week's torrential rain (100mm one day) it flooded. Plenty of spots with washed up piles of grass and leaves and mud for an active dog to explore. You'll see we were pretty tired when we got home.

So, all in all, a good weekend. Only one more week before I go and show Dr Rod my new nose. Hopefully I'll have a bit more coverage by then.

Farewell the Lone Whisker

It had to happen. 

Mum and Dad did warn me that no matter how firmly attached The Lone Whisker seemed to be, its days were numbered. And on Saturday the unthinkable happened. No more whiskers! I do have a few lumps and bumps that might be new whiskers growing, but right now I am naked. 

We went to the farm on the weekend. Finally, after three long months, my chance to lie around in the sunshine and relax. But it wasn't to be. A big storm rolled in around lunchtime Saturday and it didn't stop raining all afternoon and all night. I was housebound. Forced to lie on my bed and sleep! Its a tough life but someone's gotta do it. Misty, as you can see, was determined to play in every puddle and spent a lot of time getting wet, and then getting dried off.

And you'll see from the photos, I've lost my bucket head. There's no more skin to lose, so I can't really do any more damage. I can't tell what's made me happiest -  losing the bucket, stopping the drugs, or getting some treats back.  Doesn't really matter.  My tail is wagging, and I intend to keep it that way.

Second Check Up - 1st February 2010

Its four weeks since I finished my radiotherapy and I had my second check up today. Dr Rod is very happy with me - my nose is healing well, I am eating well and I am happy. So today he stopped all my pain medicines and tomorrow I stop my antibiotics. Happy Days.

Now, about the bucket head. Dr Rod said if I promised not to scratch, I could take it off. So we tried it for a few minutes. But then it itched. I couldn't help myself, I rubbed it on my mattress and off came some fur. On went the bucket. Mum and Dad have made a plan - if they are both home and one of them is shadowing me, I can take the horrible thing off.

Mum is calling me "The Lone Whisker", kind of like the Lone Ranger but different. Over the last two weeks every one of my whiskers on my nose bar one has fallen out. Dr Rod says they should grow back, but they might be curly whiskers instead of straight. Mum says so long as the hair grows back and the cancer is gone, she doesn't care what it looks like.

Dr Rod is so happy with me, I don't have to go back for a full month. Hopefully by then my nose will be fully healed.

First Check Up - Monday 18th January 2010

My first check up since the end of radiation didn't go exactly to plan....

On Saturday, I had this little itch. So I put my back paw up and started to scratch. And took a large piece of skin off my nose. The skin peels because of the radiation effects. Within 10 minutes, Mum and Dad put the horrible collar on. And it hasn't been off since.

So we went to the vet this morning. Dr Val and Dr Rod had a look and they were both happy with how my face looks. Except for the bit I scratched. 

I have to stay on my antibiotics and both pain killers for another two weeks and by then it should be much better. I'll let you in on a secret. I've figured out Mum hides my antibiotics in chicken skin and I've started spitting them out. But Mum and Dad are clever. Now I get minced meat balls twice a day and I haven't seen an antibiotic since the mince balls started.

Anyway, tonight my nose was really itchy and I figured out if I worked real hard, I could rub my nose on the side of my bed by bending up my plastic collar. Then there was much more skin missing. Mum heard the noise of the rubbing and came running but it was too late. So less than twelve hours after the check up  I had another trip to the vet - the Emergency Centre attached to the radiation centre. They checked my nose then fitted me with a bigger collar. There's no way I can bend this one now.

My photos were taken before my second trip to the vet. We won't be taking photos now until the wound heals a little. 

Mum is calling the new collar the "Calf Slicer" because I keep running into the backs of everyone's legs. As well as the doors, the walls and Misty.

I think its going to be a long two weeks.

 

Celebrating Adoption Day - 11th January 2010

Today is the ninth anniversary of joining my pack. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was born at the Peninsula Animal Aid and when Mum picked me up, it was my first trip in the car. And I was a little bit scared. And I did a big vomit. And ever since then Mum jokes they called me Gromit because it was the only word that rhymed with Vomit.

Anyway, to celebrate, Mum baked cupcakes and I visited our local vet with Mum and a plate of cupcakes to see my friends Jacqui and Jenny and Jennifer (Sorry Trisha, you missed out). Tonight, after dinner I even got to have a cupcake. Dad broke it up for me and helped clean up the icing (it was everywhere). 

I passed my golden rule of cupcakes on to Misty. Paper case OFF. As a stealer of food as a young pup I learnt this lesson the hard way, when Mum reached in and retrieved a half-swallowed cupcake - still in its paper case. Anyway, Misty thinks cupcakes are pretty good, and icing is a food from the gods.

Again there's no photo of me today. My mouth and nose are still sore and they tell me this is about as bad as it will get. Mum says if you look straight on at me, it looks like someone drew a sad clown mouth on my upper muzzle with pink lipstick. That's the burn.

But I am getting my "happy" back. Tonight on our walk I wanted to play to the sports field, and I've been eating all my food without having to be coaxed. So I think we've turned the corner and I'm starting to get better.

Fingers crossed it continues.

End of Radiation - dose #19 - 5/1/10

It's over...

Today was my last dose of radiation. The last few days have been a bit tough and yesterday I started a new pain killer on top of my anti-inflammatories. It made me really drowsy and I slept all night. I yawned my head off on my morning walk and dozed in the car on the way to the vet.

We had a celebratory spaghetti bolognaise at home tonight and I'm now nodding off again - my belly is full and my eyes are drooping.

Here's some photos of my nose. Dr Val says the effects of the radiation will get worse over the next week, and it will start to heal within 2-6 weeks. I might have no hair on my nose where the burn is, or the hair might grow back white. Doesn't really matter. So long as the cancer is gone.

And that last photo - that was on the weekend. Mum was keeping me company stretched out on an air mattress, doing a crossword and watching the cricket. She went to get a coffee, and when she got back, Minty Bear and I were also watching the cricket. One of the good things about being sick - no-one goes mad if you lie on the bed.

I'm looking forward to a few quite days, although I'll miss all my new friends at the vet. I'm due back for a check in two weeks, or sooner if I'm not well.

Radiation Days #15-#17 - 29-31st December 2009

This week the routine changes. 

Dad's work closes for the festive season, so he is doing the drop offs and pick ups. Its great because he leaves home later, and arrives to collect me earlier than Mum. He shows the nurse my nose with its broken down skin when I am admitted and she promises to tell Dr Val.

Dr Val tells Dad there is a possibility we may stop after 17 treatments if my nose isn't coping. 17 treatments will work, but not as well as 19. Mum and Dad are torn - less side effects with 17, more chance of long term survival with 19. Then Mum says "Well, we don't really have a choice - Gromit will let us know what happens next."

Dad decided to try and repaint the deck floor boards - not an easy task when you're at home alone with Misty. And its raining on and off. He is waiting for the weekend when Mum won't be working to do the painting. So, in between trips to the vet, he is sanding and preparing. Misty is helping - stealing pieces of sandpaper, lying in the way and tracking mud across the deck. Somehow I think Mum and I have the better deal here - we don't have to listen to Dad asking Misty to move every three seconds.

On Thursday, Dad asks if we are stopping at 17 treatments. It appears not. So, we are due to head back for #18 on 4th January.

Merry Christmas - 25th December 2009

I love Christmas normally. Lots of treats for everyone, our pack heads down to the farm and I get to lie round in the paddock being a dog.

But this Christmas is different.

Late last night, the Mum and Dad found the first breakdown of the skin on my nose. It's down the side of my wet black nose tip and it looks like a blister. I'm given strict instructions not to touch it, paw it or rub it, and being a dog I ignore these. So Mum and Dad keep me pretty close by.

Our pack has a quiet Christmas - ham and eggs for breakfast, and a cold feast mid afternoon for lunch/dinner. After breakfast we unwrap our presents. My Auntie Allison sent me (I mean us, sorry Misty) dog treats and my Auntie Rachel sent us a fabulous-looking set of dog biscuits. I say fabulous-looking because despite my begging, I'm still not allowed to chew and they are not opened. NOT HAPPY.

Mum and Dad bought me a 500g bag of lamb puff (which can be crushed and sprinkled on my food) and a stuffed dog that barks "We wish you a Merry Christmas." Misty gets a flashing light to attach to her collar for the farm - no more disappearing into the dark. She begs for some of the dog treats as well, but Mum stays firm. They are going into the cupboard until this is all over.

I have a four day break from radiation because of the public holidays. It's nice to not get in the car everyday. And its pouring with rain - perfect for lying around the house doing nothing.  My muzzle is worse now and my whole top lip looks burnt. Mum and Dad resort to hand feeding me and the custard meant for the Christmas pudding is diverted to me. (No brandy in it either - Mum bought plain just in case).

On Monday, Mum walks Misty to the off lead dog park for a run. Dad and I go down to Wynnum for a walk along the beach. It's great getting out into the fresh air, and I feel ready to face the week ahead. 

Radiation Days #11-#14 - 21-24th December 2009

The week did not start well.

All Sunday, Misty had been annoying me, trying to sniff my mouth. Mum thought I might have a burn so she mentioned it when we arrived at the vet on Monday.

When she came to pick me up, her suspicions were confirmed. Dr Val says in her experience there are two types of dogs - "burners" and "not burners". I am a "burner" which means I will show all the obvious signs of radiation burns, and it has started. There is nothing on the outside, just redness on the inside of my mouth.

So I came home with 60 horse-sized pink antibiotic tablets, enough for a whole month. There were so many they came with their own carry bag!! I am to have one twice a day, and if I seem to be in pain I can have Metacam, the anti-inflammatory as well. Mum draws up a chart to cross off when the doses are given so we don't forget, or accidently double up. 

My Mum and Dad are pretty tricky. They don't come at me waving the pink tablet. One of them offers me a bundle of BBQ chicken skin, and knowing this is a rare treat, I snap it up. I rarely chew such special treats, so the tablet slides right down no worries. I haven't managed to spit one back yet. 

Before I know it, it's Christmas Eve. Mum drops me off but I get a special treat coming home - Dad picks me up and we have time for a quick walk with Misty before Mum and Dad head to their family Christmas Eve celebrations.

The antibiotics and the anti-inflammatories upset my tummy a little, but I'm still looking forward to my Christmas treats. If I'm lucky Mum and Dad will sneak something for me into a doggy bag tonight.

Merry Christmas everybody. 

Radiation Days #6-#10 - December 14-18 2009

Here we go again. 

After a weekend off, I thought I was finished. But then Mum didn't give me breakfast on Monday and I realised I was off to the specialist centre again. I'm a pretty smart cookie, so I have learned the routine now.

You'll notice there aren't any photos of me right now. That's for two reasons - firstly I don't look any different yet, and secondly Mum and Dad are trying not to take photos. Its hard enough doing radiation, they say we don't need reminders of this time in our lives. 

So I will leave you with a some photos of Misty, and you'll see what has become of my kitchen bed.... 

Radiation Days #2-5 - 8th-11th December

We are getting into a routine.

We are still walking first thing, but no breakfast. Mum is doing the drop-offs before work, Dad stays home and feeds Misty after I leave for the day. She gets a big ice cube with some frozen steak in the centre - keeps her busy for many hours, so she doesn't dig up as many things when she's by herself (she really is naughty some days).

Meanwhile, I am reclining with my Minty Bear (my green teddy bear, sorry I don't have a photo) in air-conditioned comfort awaiting my trip to the radiation room. They give me an anaesthetic, do my treatment, wake me up, then return me to my bed to sleep until Mum comes back after work. I run out to greet her and then we hop in the car.

Dad goes straight home and walks Misty, and gets the dinners ready.  Mum drives in, and as soon as I get out of the car, my dinner is ready for me. Which is good, because I am not allowed to eat before I go. So I am very hungry when I get home.

I have no effects visible from the radiation as yet, and I am no different to normal. The anaesthetic is knocking me round a bit, but I'm ok. Just sleepy. Mum thinks this is because instead of sleeping 20 hours a day, I am busy sticky beaking at what everyone else is doing at the Vet Hospital.

Five days down, fourteen to go.

Radiation Day #1 - 7th December 2009

Another early start, and no breakfast. We have an early morning appointment, and will progress to radiotherapy from there.

At this stage, Mum and Dad are saying yes, providing I won't go blind, or lose my ability to do all the things a dog loves, like eating, walking, tail wagging, playing. They know I might have some temporary symptoms, but will recover.

We sit down with Dr Rod and Dr Val, our radiation specialist. They listen to our concerns and talk through them. They show us photos of their star patient Laban (forgive my spelling if its wrong) - a black lab who had radiation on his nose. Not quite the same place as me, but close. They show us a series of photos. At the start it isn't too bad. By the end, Mum is crying and Dad looks shell shocked. Maybe my nose will look like that. Maybe it won't. 7 months post radiation, Laban is healed, happy and being a dog. He played all during treatment.

Mum and Dad have another talk and decide to go ahead. I leave with Dr Val and my teddy bear to have my planning session and then to start radiation.

Decision Time 3-6th December 2009

Mum and Dad have spent a lot of time trying to decide what to do. Mum's mum had radiotherapy for a brain tumour and survived six weeks after the treatment finished. The treatment made her blind and affected her memory, and didn't fix her cancer problem. Mum is worried.

They watched a video showing another dog's radiation therapy and listened to what his parents had to say.

http://partnersah.vet.cornell.edu/Pets-Guide-To-Cancer/Radiation-Therapy

Then they made a list of what's important:

1. Gromit's quality of life during and after radiation treatment
2. Gromit's likely survival with or without radiation treatment
3. The family's ability to deal with the side effects of radiation (what if Misty put her nose into Gromit's face and a fight ensued? Should Misty be boarded out?)

Then they made a list of what's less important:

1. The cost of treatment
2. The logistics of getting Gromit to treatment (thank you Brisbane Veterinary Specialist Centre for offering day hospitalisation)
3. Everything else going on right now - work, Christmas etc.

Dr Rod answered all of their questions. The average survival time of dogs with oral fibrosarcomas without treatment is 6 months, with treatment the average survival is 18 months. This sounds bad, but my tumour is in a "good spot" meaning that radiation will reach the right tissue, and it will minimise the damage to other tissue. BUT my tumour is described as high grade, which means it will invade locally. 

Everybody's decision at this point will be different, because their list of what's important and what's not important will be different. But I truly believe everyone makes the right decision for them.

One wise soul helped Mum and Dad immensely with their decision making. They said "When you make your decision, you need to know you aren't choosing between the good option and the bad option. The good option is off the table. You are choosing between the bad, the very bad and the ugly options." This did help because they were trying to choose the good option.

Yet another really long weekend as we all wait for the Monday appointment. We took a trip down to the beach at Wynnum and enjoyed the sunshine and tried to forget about Monday.

Fibrosarcoma - 16th November 2009

I woke up feeling hungry and knew immediately that I was heading to the vet - no breakfast! The vet is across town from us, at least an hour in the traffic going through the city and about 45 minutes if we travel via the Gateway Motorway. I like the trip through town better because I get to stick my head out the window. But we're going Gateway, and the window is up... Bummer.

Our pathology is back. The tumour is an Oral Fibrosarcoma, one of the "big four" oral tumours. It is a local type of tumour, in that it rarely forms secondaries. Even so, because I have had a melanoma (which does form secondaries) I need to have a chest xray and an abdominal ultrasound before we go too far. Just in case.

Mum feels relieved that the tumour is not a melanoma, but doesn't know anything about fibrosarcomas. Dr Rod explains that he can remove the tumour by cutting away part of the top jaw (Premaxillectomy)  - save the canines but remove all the teeth forward of these. He will take wide margins, which means he will try and cut out a wide enough area that any small tumour cells in the tissue are also removed.

I am booked in for surgery on Thursday 19th.

Diagnosis Day - 10th November 2009

Tuesday started off the same as every other work day. Mum does the early morning walk and breakfasts, then gets in the shower to head off to work. I wasn't all that hungry (sometimes I can be fussy with my food) and mum hid my bowl from Misty, and headed off to get ready for work. It was while Mum was in the shower that Dad checked my mouth.

And found something growing. Dad said it was an ulcer, but Mum said it looked like a cancer. They took some photos and Mum said she would ring the vet as soon as they opened.

Email is great. They emailed the photos to the vet and when Mum rang, we had an appointment for after work. 

Now, I have a great relationship with the vet, so I love going up there. My favourite vet and vet nurses were on, so I stopped for pats before the consult. The vet took one look and said "This is bad." Plans were made to cut it out, and when we went back to reception we were already pencilled in for surgery on Wednesday (the next day). That's when it sunk in for Mum. 

This is bad.