THE CHOICE FOR BUD

Sometimes…we have to make difficult choices. And I have made mine – and Bud’s. There was no operation.

Part of my job involves working with health professionals, but for humans. Cancer is cancer. Because they are what they are, I mentioned Bud’s condition. I told them where the tumour was located.

“How old is the dog?” one inquired. When I told her Bud was 9, nearly 10, she frowned. I know she’s a dog lover.

“What?” I asked. Her expression alarmed me.

“It’s up to you,” she replied, “but if it was me, I’d let it go and leave him fade away in peace. Take him back to the vet when the cancer gets too painful to endure. The operation won’t help. It will just give him more pain. He may be okay for a month or so….but more than likely not. It will be pain until you can’t stand it anymore, then you’ll have to get him put down anyway.”

Although her words tore my heart, she had just confirmed what had been a nagging fear in the back of my mind. Still…even if she has worked in the field for a long time, I wanted another opinion. I went back to my office and searched the internet. I typed in “life expectancy for pit-bull”; then “cancer in dogs”. Everything I read supported her view. The tumour was in a bad spot, and his age needed to be considered too. The most we could expect after the operation would be an extra 5 to 6 months, and not necessarily good ones. Then we would have to go through it all again.

I didn’t stop there. One of my friends, who has owned dogs for years, has a contact in the veterinary circles. We called long distance and finally reached the man. No, he said. The cancer is placed where you can’t get it all without removing his anus, operating will only make it spread faster, and the animal will suffer more. It would be needless pain, with the same result. It’s a question of what you want, he told me sympathetically; quality or quantity time for your pet? And, unlike with humans you love, here you DO have a choice.

My indomitable Bud has a high tolerance for pain. This mutt went under the wheel of a SUV, got up, shook himself, and kept running after his chosen rock as if nothing had happened. But…he’s no longer a pup….. his breed has a life expectancy of between 10 to 12 years when healthy.

At the moment he is eating well, and is forever chasing ice chunks down the hill when we are outside, and continues to shake the heck out of the welcome mat when he sees me come in the door. The only time he shows any discomfort at all is at night and this after a day of play. Then he’ll groan like a person with arthritis, which, muscular as he is, is probably present in his body too. He has more difficulty climbing the stairs in the evening, and is wheezing some, but old age will cause that.

After much soul searching, I decided that I don’t want him to suffer until there is no other option, especially if the operation is only going to induce pain earlier, and, according to experts who do NOT just want my money, has little or no chance of success. So far he is still going strong. I chose quality. When I called the surgeon to cancel the appointment, she showed no surprise.

My attitude towards him has changed, of course. I pay more attention to him when I’m at home, scold him less, hand out treats more often. He responds in his “ME, Bud” fashion – I am no sooner sitting down than he’s leaning against me, insisting on being petted, or lying heavily on my feet, or thrusting his huge head under my arm with total disregard for whatever I may be holding in my hand at the time. That’s fine with me. We’ll enjoy each other for as long as we can. When the time comes for him to cross Rainbow Bridge, I’ll hug him tightly, kiss the top of head, and let him go; his dignity intact.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec