Riley's last summer

Once the diagnosis was confirmed, and we realized that this was Riley's last summer, we decided to make it a good one. He got the best food, lots of attention, a spot on Mum and Dad's bed, two walks a day most days, cuddle time on the couch most evenings, whatever he wanted. Our motto was "teach a young dog; spoil an old dog". Clevelanders are known for complaining about the weather, but every day seemed beautiful to me, and I have the pictures to prove it:

June 25th: hospital visitors

June 27th: home again

July 4th: quietly celebrating

July 8th: the doctor said this might be more comfortable than the cone(?)

July 12th: allowed to climb stairs again (one of my fave spots)

July 30th: recuperating from second surgery (wearing cone and donut now)

August 2nd: hangin' with my girl

August 22nd: resting in the shade

September 8th: walking with my boy

September 13th: breakfast in bed

September 17th: sleeping with Mum and Dad

September 18th: if a tree falls...hmmm

September 18th: on the green

September 19th: dinner please

September 20th: back on the green

September 22nd: basking in my sunbeam on the porch

September 28th: we shall now enter the forbidden way

off-leash at Muggleton

playtime

the full armor of canine cancer can't keep me from power napping

October 1st: two old gents out for a stroll

October 3rd: hiding in the woods

October 9th: stopping to smell the flowers

October 21st: circular pats

November 8th, 2011: looking back over a good life

November 11th, 2011: snow falling on green grass

Today we had our first snowfall of the year. Watching that snow pile up on the grass, where Ri and I basked in summerish sunshine just three days ago, makes me think that God made summer last until November this year, just for us.

9/21/2011

September 21st: in the woods after the rain

Riley seems to have leveled off. For awhile he showed some improvement as he began to recover from all of his procedures, surgeries, anaesthesia and hospital stays. He regained his appetite and started to enjoy life again. I still keep looking for him to continue to improve but it's probably a false hope. I get discouraged when I take him to the vet for weight checks only discover that he has dropped a few more ounces. Before his illness he was a trim, well-muscled 25+ pounds. He was always such a vigorous, athletic little dog. In his prime I never saw a dog run faster. Now he is just under 21 pounds and I can feel his little skeleton poking out under his fur. I'm shocked at how frail he looks when I see him in pictures. He has had some trouble with UTI's in the last few weeks but is on antibiotics right now and seems better. He actually seems pretty comfortable most days and is enjoying getting spoiled. He eats well, sleeps well, gets to cuddle lots (has recently gone from sleeping with his college-bound girl to sleeping with Mum and Dad), and enjoys 2 good walks a day. Sometimes he wants to run or play rough but not as often as he used to. He doesn't love getting emptied, but he seems to be figuring out that it helps him since he can only pass a few drops on his own. He threw up this afternoon during a thunderstorm (3 hours after any food or meds). I'm not sure what that was about since storms have never bothered him before and I was sitting right beside him. Maybe we need to switch his NSAID back to Rimadyl from Peroxicam. Overall he seems pretty chipper most days which is better than he would be doing if her were on Chemo. He takes some herbs and supplements, as well. It's about 3 months since his diagnosis and every day with him is a gift. At that time they gave him 6 to 12 months with aggressive treatment (chemo). I'm still glad we didn't go that route.
~Riley's mum

diagnosis: cancer...

Friday, June 24th, 2011:
Last Wednesday seemed like any other. Riley laid on the couch with us watching TV after dinner. At bedtime he roused himself, stretched and headed outside for the last time of the night. He's not much of a lone wolf. He usually does his business quickly, and is back at the door with his polite "mm, mm, mm" whine asking "what took you so long?" On this night, though, he didn't come back. I had to go looking in the woods for him. I brought him in, but he was clearly in a lot of distress, and just kept whining to be let out. I kept carrying him into the house and trying to get him to sleep but he would cry and tremble at the door until I let him out again. I fell asleep by the door at one point and wakened to thunder. I frantically called for him and found him hunched over in the rain trying to empty his bladder or bowel or both with no success. As the long night wore on with no relief I began to worry that he might try to crawl away to die. To keep him close I spent most of the night on the porch, and in the mudroom and back yard with him; as well as walking around and around the green with him in the dark. Needless to say, neither of us got any sleep. I took him to our vet as soon as the office opened Thursday morning and they x-rayed him and tried to drain his bladder with a needle through his abdomen since they couldn't get a catheter in. Our vet sent us to a Vet. Hospital in Copley after his x-ray indicated a swollen prostrate. Poor guy. No wonder Wednesday night was such torture for him. Initial tests and ultra sound seemed to indicate prostate cancer. We all felt as if we had been blindsided. He has always been such a vigorous, healthy little dog that we expected to have him with us for a few more years. We’re not ready to say goodbye yet. It was so hard to leave him at the Vet. hospital last night. He so wanted us to take him home. He kept going to the door and wagging his droopy little tail as he looked pleadingly at us. The nurse kindly took him out the door and down the hall before we left so he wouldn't feel we had abandoned him. Yesterday was such an emotional rollercoaster. I went to bed thinking that even if we only got to bring him home for a single night, so that he could die at home, that would be good news. I just want him to know that we brought him home. I woke up this morning with a feeling of relief thinking I had just dreamed it all, but then the fog cleared, and I remembered that it was real. Earlier today Mike and I discussed what our response would be to each of the possible scenarios. Mike would be flying home from Newport during decision time so I needed to be prepared to give an answer to the doctors when the results came. Riley's immediate need is to have relief from the pressure of a full bladder that can't be emptied. NEVER AGAIN will I allow Riley be in the kind of distress he was in Wednesday night. Mike didn't want to spend an unreasonable amount of money on a dog who had no chance of survival anyway, and who would perceive our abandoning him to the doctors’ efforts as cruelty. We decided that if there was no cancer we would approve surgery to insert a tube into his abdomen so we would have a way to evacuate his bladder (every 2 to 4 hours, using a large syringe). If there was cancer but it had not spread we decided we would still have the tube inserted and possibly do an NSAID and or chemo at home to shrink the prostate to keep him as comfortable as possible until his time came. If the cancer had spread we would try to figure out some way to bring him home, however briefly, before euthanization. The needle biopsy today showed some abnormal cells in the blood/urine withdrawn. Riley's prostate was too hard to get a tissue sample; however, given the rapid growth and Riley's age, the doctor said she was 75% sure it was cancer, and a very aggressive type at that (later lab results confirmed this diagnosis), but luckily there was no indication that it has spread to his lymph nodes or lungs. She said that operating to remove canine prostate cancer is rarely, if ever, done. Canine cancer treatments are generally geared more towards comfort than cure. So Dr. Frank gave him a prognosis of 6-12 mos. with chemo...and this afternoon Dr. Paget gave Riley some new plumbing. He'll spend another night or two in the hospital, but then we get to bring him home.
~Riley's Family