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Nearly six weeks ago, we were told that Ursa had (probably) 4-6 weeks left to live.

She is currently lounging (like the Queen of Sheba) on our Victorian sofa, thumping her tail feverishly whenever I look over and give her a hint of attention, gauging whether or not to leap down and retrieve her tennis ball. Hedging her beats, always in the name of that dang ball.

So much for 4-6 weeks! We’re feeling beyond lucky that she has blown all of our expectations out of the water.

Yesterday, we took her to the vet to do a chest scan and see what was happening internally. Six weeks ago, when the tumor where her left leg once stood reappeared, we discovered 3 masses (mets) on her lungs (in addition to the superficial tumor on her shoulder). This is what prompted the 4-6 prognosis. Typically, once the cancer has spread to the lungs, the mortality rate is not good. 4-6 weeks is typical.

I’m going to rewind a minute to take you back to the beginning of our journey with Ursa’s cancer, as I know that many people find this blog now due to their own struggles with canine cancer. If you are one of them, welcome and I am so so sorry that that is what has brought you here. If nothing else, trust that this experience will bring you that much closer to your pet and make you that much more appreciative and acutely aware of your best friend’s presence and love. You’ll learn to cherish every extra tail wag and butt rub.

Ursa began limping in December of 2011. She was born June 21, 2005 and is a purebred Flat-Coated Retriever, so she was 6.5 years old when the problems first manifested. When the limp lasted for more than a week, we took her to the vet, and they determined that she probably just had a strained muscle from a run in with Hanna (i.e. The Brick Wall). The limp persisted, even after “crate rest,” so we brought her back in and were told she had tendinitis in her bicep. After hour long car trips to a special veterinary physical therapist for appointments walking in an underwater treadmill, and an absurd amount of money later, the limp STILL persisted, and she was already functioning as a 3-legged beast (she couldn’t use that left leg at all at this point). I kept saying to James that something much more serious was wrong. Why weren’t we just taking the leg off?

Everyone looked at me like I was crazy. And SO EXTREME to even suggest amputation, but I had this terrible feeling in my gut that something else was amiss.

Over Addison’s birthday weekend in May of 2012, a distinct tennis ball sized mass appeared on her upper left shoulder seemingly over night. One day it wasn’t there, the next it was undeniable. We brought her in and almost instantly were told it was cancer when a blood draw pulled up cancer cells, and then a biopsy confirmed that the leg needed to come off, like yesterday.

Many people were surprised when we opted for amputation, somehow thinking it cruel or inhumane. Our vet explained, however, that given Ursa’s athleticism, age, and general spunk and vigor, that she was an ideal candidate for such a surgery and would be just as happy and energetic and capable on three legs as she was on four. She said that canine amputation was not at all like when a human being loses a limb, and that a dog is none the wiser when they lose an appendage. She explained that amputation was not a cure, but a way of relieving the extreme amounts of pain that Ursa was in and was a way to help prolong life if paired with chemotherapy. For validation, I took to Google and landed on the Tripawds site. That community confirmed our decision to amputate and gave us so many resources, so much guidance, and so much support as we prepared for her surgery. We chose amputation as a pain management and quality of life measure. And we don’t regret that decision for a second.

She recovered from her surgery beautifully, and just two weeks post-op began a six month round of chemotherapy. We were fortunate that James’ Godfather is a veterinary pathologist, so he did the analysis of Ursa’s limb and cancer and determined that it was not osteosarcoma (bone cancer, and an aggressive and nasty one at that, the kind that is most typical in her breed and very swiftly deadly), but malignant histiocytosis. This cancer is less common in Flat-Coats and attacks important bodily tissues (i.e. the immune system, i.e. the lungs, lymph nodes, etc.). Pete told us that dogs on average live 400 days from the time of diagnosis (Ursa is currently right around that time frame, so we were not completely shocked when the tumor reappeared last month). With this information, we drove to Boston for a consultation with NEVOG (a veterinary oncology group) and they recommended the treatment plan that our vet was able to administer from home. We began her treatments in late June of 2012 and continued administering them monthly (literally, James gave it to her at home – man, chemo for dogs is SO different than with humans). For those interested in the specifics, she alternated oral doses every four weeks of the chemotherapeutics CCNU (Lomustine) and Cytoxan (Cyclophosphamide). We had to take her in for regular white blood cell count checks after each administration and before beginning the next round of treatment each month. Fortunately, she did very very well. She never slowed down or showed signs that the treatments gave her any discomfort whatsoever. Up until six weeks ago, she was completely energetic, active, and full of life.

Then the tumor, once again, seemingly overnight, reappeared. When I think back in retrospect, her appetite had been waning and she had slowed down a bit on our walks. Again, we shouldn’t have been surprised given all that we knew about this cancer’s presentation and the one year timeline that had been predicted. When we brought her to the vet, we discovered the mets on her lungs and began preparing to say goodbye. The tumor on her shoulder doubled in size in mere days and literally cracked open leaving a gaping, oozing, nasty wound. Ursa refused to eat, even human food, and could barely get up from her bed. I thought we were going to have to put her down exactly one week from when the tumor reappeared given her rapid decline.

But our vet, and the doctors at NEVOG, looked at her scans and her chart and thought it was worth trying more chemotherapy coupled with daily rounds of Eastern herbal medicine to help direct and target the mets.

The chemo, this time, seemed to disable Ursa more than ever (we used the same treatment plan), and I was beside myself feeling like we’d only added suffering to an already dying animal. James stayed unwaveringly optimistic. Ursa had a great energy and spirit for life, he trusted our vet and wanted to see what the Eastern medicine could do. We began the following combination of supplements a few days after the chemo:

1.5g twice a day of Lily Combination for her lungs

1.5g twice a day of Wei Qi Booster for her immune system and to boost her appetite

1.5 g twice a day of Conc Stasis Breaker to target the tumors

Yep, that’s nine pills, twice a day. Girl eats a jar of peanut butter a week and doesn’t seem to mind in the least. It was after we’d started these supplements that her tumor wound began to heal, and once fully recovered, the mass itself completely disappeared. Her appetite came back with a vengeance, as did her tennis ball addiction. Ever since, she’s been herself. An immature, happy, glorious furry black ball of energy and spunk. Our Ursa.

Yesterday, the vet confirmed that two of the three mets in her lungs had completely disappeared. Sadly, the third has grown in size. A reminder that while we may have more time with her than initially predicted, the cancer is still very much present and looming. Right now, Ursa is back to her old tricks, but we’ll be watching for signs of decline. If we’ve been able to buy her one final summer of play, and see her through to her 8th birthday next weekend, I am grateful. And I am happy to spend the money and endure a twice daily peanut butter bath to maintain this quality of life and joy for our family.

Who knows if it’s the chemo, or the Eastern supplements, or a combination thereof that has given us these extra days/weeks. But it doesn’t matter to us. What matters is that Ursa is back to flourishing, and we want to maintain that for as long as she is able. Our house will not be the same without her ever-constant spark, so we’re basking it in it while we can.

Photo: Courtesy of Amanda Jones