Tag Archives: canine cancer

Health

Canine chemo treatment number four…

Yesterday started out sunny and pleasant, but later became overcast and a little depressing. I took the dogs for a walk, noticing that some kind of event was going on at the local church. A lot of people were dressed in black. I wondered if maybe there was a funeral going on, even though our town has a cemetery with a chapel.

It was Thursday, which meant that Arran had a chemo appointment in the afternoon. It was his fourth. Arran has been doing surprisingly well with the lymphoma treatments. He willingly scarfs down his medications, mainly because he’s always hungry due to the steroids, and because I wrap the pills in yummy things like chicken, peanut butter, or beef.

Arran and I got the vet’s office early and met a couple of local ladies who thought he was adorable. They asked me many questions, and we were hampered by our masks and our mutually terrible German/English skills. That is, they spoke perfect German and limited English, and I speak perfect English, and very limited German. But I did manage to tell them a little about Arran, and one of the ladies told me about her dog, who is 12 years old and was evidently at home.

My dog was totally eating up the attention, trembling a little either due to nerves, or the slightly chilly weather… or maybe both. He willingly went to the ladies, and enjoyed being the center of attention as they called him “Schatzi” and petted him. He’s still such a gorgeous dog, with a beautiful, lush, thick, glossy coat. But he’s also clearly an elderly gent.

For a moment, I wondered if I should tell them why we were there, but then realized that people can be judgmental about dogs getting cancer treatments, especially when they’re as old as Arran obviously is.

I will admit that Arran did look a little sad and scared at the vet’s office, and maybe some folks might think it’s wrong for him to be subjected to cancer treatments. What other people don’t see, though, is the way Arran is the rest of the time, when he’s not at the vet’s office. They wouldn’t have seen him jumping excitedly when I held up the dog “seatbelt” before we left the house, or dancing around for his food, or on his morning walk, when he wanted to go the long way… They wouldn’t have seen him giving me sweet beagle kisses at the table, or snuggling with Bill. Obviously, Arran isn’t sorry to be alive.

In the end, I decided to keep my mouth shut. It wasn’t their business, anyway…

Before long, the vet called us into her office in Haus B, where we had the conversation about Arran’s slimmer physique. She drew some blood, then inserted the catheter and gave him his first dose. Then, we went back to a chair where she had set up a bed for Arran. He laid down and, just like a champ, took the next two IV push infusions. Half an hour later, we were done. Arran was happy to get into the car and go home, where he enjoyed his evening rations and a nap before his favorite person came home from work.

In the past few weeks, Arran has lost a couple of kilos, which he could easily afford to do. He gained a lot of weight during the lockdowns and was, at one point, up to about 19 kilos. Now he’s getting back to his fighting weight, but I think we’re going to either get him regular food, or feed him more of his senior food. Last week, he weighed 17.6 kilos– down from 17.8 the week prior, and yesterday, he was 17.2 kilos.

The vet asked if he was eating. I said, “Yes! He constantly wants to eat. Should I feed him more?” She said no, that he’s not too skinny yet. I guess the disease and the treatments are making him use more calories. That, and he’s moving more, because he’s not so lethargic.

Arran is still not obviously suffering from the treatments. Yes, he wants to eat all the time, but that was also true before he got sick. The one change is that now he’s more insistent, and he gets us up in the middle of the night because he’s hungry. This morning, he woke us at 2:30am. He wanted some of our breakfast a little later, too. Now, he’s gone back to bed, as I listen to a classic jazz song and wonder if I should try to record it.

I love fall. I like to savor these cozy days. Especially since I know that our time with sweet Arran is growing shorter. But I can’t say that I’m sorry we’re giving him this extra time. I think he’s grateful for this time, because he’s still engaged with life. I don’t regret treating him. I know that if we hadn’t done this, by now he would already be a memory.

Below are a few photos of Arran taken during her chemo treatment… This represents about a half an hour of his week. The rest of the time, he’s decidedly more cheerful and cute, as he appears in the last photo, sitting on the bench of our table. Two weeks ago, he couldn’t jump up there by himself. Now, he can jump up there, and on our bed, where he’s gone back to sleeping.

He’s not done fighting yet. So we’re going to help him for as long as he wants to fight.

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Health, markets

Chemo, COVID, and another weekly market…

This week has really flown by. Here it is, Friday morning, and it’s time to write another blog post for my “travel/German living” blog.

Last time I posted, I mentioned that Bill wasn’t feeling well. In that post, I wrote that he was suffering from irritable bowel syndrome, fatigue from two back to back TDYs, and some kind of respiratory illness that wasn’t COVID. Well, it turned out we were wrong. Bill went to work on Monday, and learned that a couple of his colleagues who had been at the conference in Bavaria had come down with COVID. Since he still wasn’t feeling well himself, Bill decided to test. Sure enough, he had a positive result, so he’s been working from home for the rest of the week.

He’s actually feeling fine now, and never got very sick with the virus. He didn’t have a fever at all, never lost his sense of taste or smell, and aside from some coughing and fatigue, hasn’t been much worse for wear. Yesterday, because he’s over the virus, he took Arran in for his chemo treatment, and we attended the weekly market, although we made sure to stay on the periphery of the crowd. He’s working from home today, too, because his boss told him to, but he’s pretty much recovered from the sickness. I haven’t been sick at all, perhaps because I had COVID myself back in July. While Bill was at the vet’s office, he was masked, as everyone is required to be in any healthcare setting in Germany.

Arran is still doing well with his lymphoma treatment. His blood test didn’t reveal any progress, per se, toward technical remission, but we can see a difference in his energy level. For instance, a few days ago, I was eating a sandwich on my bed, and Arran managed to jump up on the bed by himself. He has pretty much quit doing that lately, but before he got sick, he always slept on our bed. He’s also been jumping up on the bench of our Eckbank Gruppe, which he always did when he was well. I know a lot of people wouldn’t want a dog sitting next to them on a bench or sleeping in bed with them, but for us, it’s a normal thing. I’m just glad Noyzi doesn’t do it, because he’s a lot bigger and hairier.

We had gorgeous weather yesterday for the market, so we went down for about an hour or so. We got some cheese, cold cuts, and beautiful produce. Maybe I’ll make a homemade tomato sauce today and we’ll make lasagne or manicotti. Of course, we also enjoyed some local wines, and waved to our neighbors. I really love the weekly market. I know the markets are common in larger towns, but our little neighborhood is unusually close knit, so the market is intimate and convivial.

Our town manager is always there to oversee everything, too. I think he does a great job. He’s very active on social media, and approachable. This is something we didn’t experience when we lived near Stuttgart. I didn’t know who the town managers were in our previous neighborhoods, nor did we have weekly events like we do in Breckenheim. But then, I don’t know if what we have in Breckenheim is the norm for the Wiesbaden area, either. I’ve noticed there’s been an uptick in events here just over the last year or so, but then, we did have to deal with COVID restrictions. Anyway, Bill and I both really like that they do these events here, and we have enjoyed meeting some of the locals with whom we share space.

Below are some photos from this week. First, are a few shots of our Arran, who is obviously feeling much better. Bill asked about the bill for his treatment so far, and the vet said there’s no pressure to settle up at this point. As Americans, we are allowed to use a “VAT” form, which exempts us from having to pay local taxes for the treatment. Whether or not to accept VAT forms is voluntary on the part of local merchants, since it involves paperwork for them. But it sure is nice for us when they do that, especially for expensive things like non-routine veterinary care, or big purchases like furniture.

This week, I read an article in the Washington Post about a woman who got expensive cancer treatment for her dog. She got a lot of rude comments from people, which I ranted about. Last night, she left me a very nice comment on my post, which you can read here. In any case, so far Arran is doing well, and we’ve been enjoying some priceless time with him. I also don’t expect that his care will cost as much as it would in the United States. As soon as we have a bill, I will confirm or deny that expectation for the curious.

And here are some shots from the market… Someone had some heavenly smelling bread. It smelled like garlic bread. I never did find the source, but they were also selling waffles with powdered sugar that reminded me of the early 90s, when I worked at Busch Gardens making waffle cones. I worked in “Germany”, and wore a dirndl. Little did I know what the future would hold.

Bill found some lovely Italian cheeses and cold cuts, as well as gorgeous, colorful produce… but I was there for the wine.

For some reason, the editor isn’t letting me put comments on the photos… Luckily, most of them are self explanatory. I did notice the Gastatte sign for the first time yesterday. Breckenheim has little signs on its historic buildings, as well as “stumbling stones” (Stolpersteine), placed in honor of local Jewish people who were victims of the Holocaust. The stones are now making appearances all over Europe. You can search my blog for more information on those.

Since Bill is feeling better, maybe we can get out of the house this weekend. We do have plans to carve pumpkins for Halloween this year, since we have new German neighbors with small children who requested it. I’ll post about that when the time comes. 😉

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Hessen

Arran’s second round of German style chemo… So far, so good!

As I wrote on my main blog yesterday, I was kind of dreading yesterday. When we still had Zane, I took him to the vet all the time for allergy shots. It got to be quite a grind, which I found kind of nervewracking. That was when we still lived near Stuttgart, and our vet was a several miles away. It wasn’t a big deal to drive there, obviously, though I don’t do a lot of driving anymore. I’m not sure why I’m like this now. Before I got married, I used to drive all the time. But then I got sucked into this stay at home wife gig, and I don’t get out much anymore. It’s not because I can’t go out, though… more like I choose not to. So, having to drive Arran the very short (even shorter) distance to the vet is kind of anxiety producing, especially in the COVID era.

I made a point of not getting to the vet too early yesterday. Noyzi demanded a walk, so I gave them one. Then I put Arran in his “seatbelt” harness and loaded him into the Volvo. Ordinarily, I would have driven my Mini, but it’s parked in the garage, and accessing it would mean moving the Volvo out of the driveway and getting my car out. And while Arran fits fine in the tiny back seat, getting him in the car when he’s mobility challenged, and there are only two doors, isn’t that easy. It’s a lot simpler to put him in the Volvo, since he doesn’t have to crawl over the driver’s seat to get in the backseat. I no longer have the upper body strength to simply drop the top and put him over the car door. There’s also a concrete barrier on our driveway that makes it harder to access the backseat.

We got to the vet at about fifteen minutes before our 11:00am appointment. I picked up a beeper from the receptionist and sat in the car with Arran until it went off. It was noticeably chillier this week than it was last week, although the skies were as overcast. Arran slowly ambled into Haus B, a part of the vet clinic I had never been in before. Arran’s regular vet wasn’t in this week, so another vet gave him his treatment. I liked her. Weirdly enough, she kind of reminded me of Mick Jagger. No, not necessarily because of her looks, but more in the way she carried herself. And her face and coloring bears a slight resemblance to his. I know that’s a weird observation, but I don’t mean it as a put down. I think Mick Jagger is an amazing force of nature! Anyway, she seemed somewhat easier to talk to, and less rushed. I don’t really know the vets at our office well, because Bill is the one who usually takes the dogs. But since Arran is getting chemo, I guess I’ll be getting to know them better.

The vet drew some blood to make sure Arran would be medically able to tolerate the chemo. After a few minutes, she showed me the results. Arran’s red blood cell count is still low, but his reticulocytes– immature red blood cells– are on the rise. That means that his body is responding to the anemia and making more red blood cells. In the meantime, “young” cells are being released into his bloodstream. This is a good finding, because it means that his bone marrow is still functioning and trying to repair itself. If there weren’t more reticulocytes being released, that would mean his body wasn’t responding and had “given up”– aplastic anemia. I’m sure in the short term, it would mean he’d need a blood transfusion and in the slightly longer term, it would mean he was on his way to the Rainbow Bridge.

After the happy news that Arran’s regular vet’s fear that his bone marrow was irreparably damaged (she had communicated this in an email to Bill) was incorrect, Arran got his second IV push of Vincristine. Haus B is a slightly less “house like” environment than the main office is, so I sat in an area next to a window and watched as many people brought their dogs for treatment. Dr. Konrad Blendinger, the man who, with his veterinarian wife, owns the practice is a vet who does highly specialized reproductive medicine for dogs. He mostly only sees dogs who are being bred, and it looked like some of his patients were waiting for him yesterday in Haus B. It was the first time I’d ever seen him in person, although I have seen him performing music in locally produced videos. I’ve noticed that part of German culture is having hobbies, and music is apparently one of his! We have that in common.

Arran was pretty calm during the chemo. He laid on his side and took the drugs like a champ, only managed to pull the cap off the port, which wasn’t a big deal. The female “Jagger” vet expressed mock dismay, then covered up the port until she was ready to administer the medication. After an hour or so, we were finished, and I loaded Arran into the car, asked for a bill (which wasn’t yet ready), and drove home. Bill came home a few hours later, and they had a lovely reunion!

The dogs were so happy to see Bill, as was I!

Arran has responded very well to the treatment so far. His lymph nodes have gone down; he’s stopped coughing and gasping; his poops are mostly very normal; and he’s eating like an Olympic athlete. He still can’t jump on the bed, but he clearly feels much better. We still don’t know how much this will cost, but it’s been so nice to see Arran behaving more like himself. To be very honest, I think if we hadn’t started treatment last week, he might not be here today. The disease was definitely starting to progress. My main goal was to make sure Arran wouldn’t die without Bill– his favorite person– by his side. Now, it looks like that will be what happens, but we aren’t sure when. But then, that would be true for anyone, wouldn’t it? As this week’s events in Ukraine have shown us, one never knows when death will occur.

Anyway, we’re just going to enjoy this time, and do what we can for our sweet Arran. I think this experience will teach us a lot, not just about canine cancer, but about cancer in general. The drugs he takes are the same as what many humans take when they have cancer.

Arran and his favorite person!
He sure looks good.

Not to leave out Noyzi, below is a video I made of him reacting to The Handmaid’s Tale, as Serena had her baby. He was very curious and empathetic. Noyzi is a true gentle giant.

Noyzi is a big, sweet, Balkan goofball.

And a couple of photos of our regal Kosovar rescue, Noyzi, who is now living his best life in Germany. He sure has come a long way!

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Health

German style chemotherapy!

Before I get accused of posting “clickbait”, I want to make it clear that this post is not about Bill or me. It’s about our elderly beagle mix, Arran, who was recently diagnosed with B cell lymphoma. I’ve been posting up to the minute updates on my main blog, but I wanted to post here for those who hit this blog because they’re specifically looking for information about life in Germany. I have a very different “audience” for this blog, although it seems like most of my readers come here to read about our trips to the nude spas. 😉

A week ago, I posted about how we were trying to arrange chemo for Arran to treat his cancer. Originally, we thought we’d rather just make him comfortable, because he’s already about 13 or 14 years old. We thought the vet would just prescribe prednisone or prednisolone for him, to help ease the symptoms of the lymphoma. For some reason, the vet said they didn’t usually do that. Then I noticed that Arran didn’t seem ready to go to the Rainbow Bridge. He was still pretty active, and B cell lymphoma supposedly responds to treatment better than T cell lymphoma does. I was also curious about canine chemo, since Arran is our fourth dog to have cancer and our second to have lymphoma. Our first lymphoma casualty was Zane, who died just one week post diagnosis.

Bill finally got ahold of the vet on Monday, and she ordered the necessary drugs for Arran. He’s been at Grafenwoehr all week, on a business trip. He will be gone again this coming week. I was very worried that Arran would get much sicker and die while Bill was gone. Everything I’ve read on the Internet tells me that Arran should have already died by now. But, as I’ve explained many times, Arran is a real fighter, and he’s not ready to go yet.

I brought Arran to the office on Thursday at 3:00, but had to stop by on Wednesday to get analgesics for him, as his lymph nodes had gotten so large that he was having trouble moving without pain. In Germany, COVID restrictions have been relaxed almost everywhere, except in doctors’ offices and other healthcare delivery facilities, and on trains and busses. So when we arrived on Thursday, I had to wait for the clinic to open, then get a beeper and wait outside to be called. I was the first one there, because I really wanted to get the appointment over with. I hate afternoon vet appointments. I find them exhausting. I’d rather go to the vet in the morning, so it’s done. When we had Zane, I was constantly taking him to the vet for allergy shots, so this is a familiar routine for me, except for the face masks, which are still required in doctors’ offices.

Arran went into the exam room and the vet quickly put in a catheter, then drew some blood. She later told us he was a bit anemic, which was concerning to her, although not all that uncommon for lymphoma patients. She told us to bring him in if he was in pain, short of breath, or had pale gums. Then she administered the first of several syringe vials of diluted Vincristine, which is a chemo drug. She explained the rest of the protocol to me and even printed out a schedule. Arran will come back for another dose of Vincristine on Thursday of the coming week. At home, he will get Prednisolone and Endoxan (known as Cytoxan in the US). The Endoxan is a chemo drug in pill form, and I’m supposed to wear gloves when I give it to him, and when I clean up his waste.

The vet asked about my schedule. I told her the only thing we have planned is for November 16th through the 20th. The 16th is our 20th wedding anniversary, so we are planning a trip to Ribeauville, France. The dogs will be coming with us. We have been to Ribeauville a bunch of times and have stayed in the apartment we rented several times. The owner is very dog friendly, so I feel comfortable in going there with the boys. I don’t care if we just sit there and drink wine and eat macaroons and madeleines. I would have liked to have planned something grander for the occasion, but there will be time for that later, when the chemo sessions are over. The effects of chemo, unfortunately, are temporary. But they will hopefully buy us some time.

After the first dose of Vincristine, we moved to an infusion room– a tiny little booth with chairs and an IV stand in it. It looked like the room had been built on to the side of the building, as there was a sconce on the wall that was obviously originally meant for outdoors. I thought maybe Arran would get an IV bag, but they used more syringes. It was surprisingly easy.

In the infusion room.
They made him a little bed.
Feeling fine last night!
He’s so happy Bill is home. He had sweet dreams.

About an hour later, we were finished, and Arran culminated the treatment by releasing a rancid fart. Thankfully, the tiny room had a window in it. The receptionist said we could pay next week, since the vet had to ask the owner of the practice how much the treatment would cost. We aren’t too concerned about the money, because vet care is cheaper here than it is in the US, and because we actually have the money to spend. Living in Germany has been surprisingly lucrative for us.

When we got home, Arran, who had been obviously ailing before the appointment, actually wanted his dinner. Much to my surprise, he willingly ate kibble for the first time in over a week. I had been giving him chicken all week, and he’d had a little bit of bloody diarrhea. I was a little worried about how he’d handle the chemo, but he just ate his dinner and went to bed. I had put a blanket on the floor, and he made a bed and fell fast asleep.

At about 1:00am, he woke me up, because he needed to pee. I let him out, and he wanted a snack. I gave him a little more kibble, and we went back to bed until 4:00am, when he needed to pee again. Then, at 6:00am, I got up and made coffee. Both dogs came down to the kitchen for their breakfast. Again, this was a change, because for the past few weeks, Arran has been increasingly reluctant to rise in the mornings, and hasn’t been wanting to eat his breakfast. But on Friday morning, it was like old times. Because it was raining, we didn’t go for a walk yesterday. However, he was obviously feeling much better. His lymph nodes shrank noticeably, and he was eager to eat. He never managed to jump up on the bed by himself, but he didn’t cry when I helped him up, as he did on Wednesday.

By Friday afternoon, Arran was looking really good. All week, he’d been waiting in the foyer, hoping Bill would come home. Bill has been away on business all week, though, so Arran would be left disappointed. Last night, Bill came home, and I got a video of the reunion. I would say it was worth the price of the chemo for that alone. If you look carefully at the featured photo, you can see that Arran’s lymph nodes in his hind legs are swollen. Those nodes have now shrunk significantly. One is no longer detectable, and the other is about half as big as it was. I gave him more Endoxan and Prednisolone today. These are the same drugs often used for humans, but in veterinary medicine, they are given in much smaller doses. The goal is preserve quality of life, rather than curing the disease. Even if we cured Arran, he’s old enough that he could die of natural causes, anyway. So far, we haven’t observed any truly bad side effects from the drugs, although they can and do cause side effects for some dogs.

What a change! This was taken last night. He’s obviously feeling a lot better.
He was so happy to see Bill!

There is a high speed animal hospital near us called Tierklinik Hofheim. I’ve mentioned it a few times, and we have used it for Zane and Arran, although Noyzi hasn’t been there yet. They have an oncology department. If Arran had a more complicated case, or was much younger, I’d probably take him there for treatment. They have the ability to get test results faster than our regular vet does, and they no doubt have a lot more experience with treating cancer. But, again, Arran is already an old guy, so we’re not inclined to be heroic. We just want to get him to a point at which we can both be with him when he’s ready to shove off of the mortal coil. If he can make it to January, and celebrate ten years with us, that would be icing on the cake. Many dogs who get chemo for B cell lymphoma survive for a year. I’m not sure that will happen for Arran, due to his age, and the fact that his treatment was a bit delayed.

I’m not sure if we have any plans for the rest of the day. The weather is pretty crappy today. It’s raining, although it’s not cold outside. So this will probably do it for today’s activities… I’ve already spent time on the phone talking to USAA again, because they declined a charge Bill and I both tried to make to pay for Ribeauville. Calling USAA is always an annoying experience, especially since the lady I spoke to answered the phone as if someone spiked her oatmeal with crack, or something. But, as I’m writing this, the doorbell rang, probably with the latex gloves I ordered. Arran barked, and hurried down the stairs, as if cancer had never darkened his door. So I’d say that so far, Arran is doing very well. It’s very nice to see!

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markets

Our neighborhood market is growing!

Bill came home a little bit early yesterday so we could visit our weekly market, which started at the beginning of September. We decided to go down there and see what we could find. I was impressed by how much was being offered. The first market only had four vendors, if I recall correctly. This time, there were at least twice as many trucks with different foods on offer– meat, fish, produce, apple most and wines, ice cream, and an awesome Middle Eastern Feinkost with lots of treats from Turkey, Lebanon, and Italy. Of course, there was also wine on offer.

We decided to leave the dogs at home. Arran is ailing, and Noyzi gets too nervous around people he doesn’t know well. That was a good decision, since there were a lot of people at the market last night, and some folks brought their much better trained dogs with them. Besides, it’s hard to enjoy drinking wine when you’re holding two leashes.

Below are some photos from yesterday’s trip to the Dorfplatz. The market in Breckenheim runs from 1-6pm every Thursday.

There was a guy cooking brats, as usual…
The produce folks had a lot more stuff on offer. We picked up some apples, peppers, and grapes.
And some fresh salmon from the fish vendor. He was new this week.
Love this vendor. Lots of exotic treats.
We bought bread and pistachio nuts.
Socializing was happening.
Always a provider.
And jellies from the apple wine sellers.
Our haul. We got some cold cuts and bacon from the meat folks.

When we got home, Arran and Noyzi were delighted to see us. I videoed their welcome. Arran seems to be feeling okay, most of the time. Today, he’s going to the vet for a biopsy, while Noyzi gets a much needed dental.

The boys welcome us home after an hour at the market.

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Uncategorized

Another gloomy weekend in Germany…

We’re now at that time of year when Germany’s weather gets much less predictable. Today, the temperature is about 55 degrees Fahrenheit, and it’s kind of overcast and rainy. It was sort of like that yesterday, too, although the sun did appear for a brief period in the afternoon. I tried to sit outside, but it was too windy to enjoy the sunshine, so back into the house I went.

Ordinarily, yucky weather wouldn’t necessarily keep us homebound, but we also decided to stay home because we’re a bit concerned about Arran. I mentioned in a few recent posts that he hasn’t been himself lately. A week ago, I discovered enlarged lymph nodes in his popliteal glands behind his knees (back legs). I immediately became concerned about lymphoma, which is the dreaded cancer that took our dog, Zane, in 2019. Bill took Arran in to see the vet last week, because besides the lymph nodes, Arran also had a few pesky fleas, which he picked up from the hedgehog who has been residing in our backyard.

The vet did a fine needle aspirate, and at this point, we still haven’t gotten the results. She also put him on antibiotics, which he’ll finish today. I would say he had a partial response to the antibiotics. The lymph nodes are still large, but Arran did seem to feel somewhat less lethargic. We treated him for the fleas, and I washed everything in sight, and that seems to have gotten rid of them for now. I just have a bad feeling that he has cancer. It might or might not be lymphoma. If it is lymphoma, it’s not like it was for Zane, who seemed to have a very aggressive case of it. He died exactly one week after he was diagnosed. Arran, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be ailing much, other than being a little slower to eat his breakfast, quicker to tire on his walks, and slightly less spry when he jumps up on the bed.

The dogs are due to get dentals next week, and if Arran is still with us, he’ll probably get a biopsy. Bill and I talked about it last night, and I think we agree that whatever we do for Arran will be conservative, because he’s about 14 years old. That is the human equivalent as a man in his 90s. Canine lymphoma is treatable, but it’s not curable. As sad as it was to lose Zane, though, his was the easiest of our canine deaths. He had a good last week. If that is what’s in store for Arran, I wouldn’t object.

On the other hand, it’s possible this is an infection and the antibiotics he’s been taking weren’t the right ones to cure it… or it could be another type of cancer. I really don’t know. I hate this part of having animals in my life, but I don’t hate it enough to give them up for good. Anyway, at this point, Arran is still eating, drinking, sleeping, taking walks, and hanging around with us. So this weekend, we decided to give him some more of our time.

Noyzi is also hanging out with us more. He likes to listen to me practice guitar, especially since he knows that when I’m done playing, if Bill isn’t home and hasn’t already taken him out, that means it’s walk time.

One thing that does worry me a bit is that we are due to go to The Black Forest at the end of the month, and we can’t cancel our reservation without having to pay for the stay. I did buy travel insurance with cancel for any reason coverage, but it’s not so easy to get reimbursed by travel insurance. Plus, I really want to go… Yes, we’ll be visiting our dentist, but I would also like to have a change of scenery. We haven’t gone anywhere since June. We’re long overdue for a trip.

I think that like Zane, Arran is going to stay with us for as long as he possibly can. He’s already the oldest dog we’ve had the pleasure of having. All of the others have died younger. He’s a very resilient, spunky dog, and he LOVES Bill so much. So we’ll see what happens. Below are photos that were taken within the past 36 hours or so. As you can see, the boys look fine. But I am still worried about those big lymph nodes.

Edited to add on September 19, 2022… Unfortunately, my concerns were on target. Arran does have lymphoma. So we will be speaking with the vet to determine what to do from this point. I think we are inclined to keep him comfortable for as long as possible, but we’ll see what the vet says.

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Uncategorized

Poor Arran…

Monday morning, our dog Arran, whom we’ve counted as a family member since January 2013, had surgery on his left hind leg. A couple of weeks ago, I spotted a red bump there as Arran was headed outside for his evening whiz. Having already dealt with mast cell tumors in Arran and our late beagle, Zane, I had a feeling a new MCT had showed its ugly head. I told Bill about it when he came home from work. The next day, he called our vets in the neighboring industrial park in Wallau and told them that Arran had a tumor. They were good enough to fit him in for an aspiration that morning.

A week later, we went back to the vet’s office for the results of the aspirate, as well as basic bloodwork for our new dog, Kosovar street dog, Noyzi. The vet confirmed what we’d feared. After five and a half years with no new mast cell tumors, Arran had another one. It was in the skin, rather than under it, and she didn’t detect any swollen lymph nodes. She scheduled him for surgery a few days later. Meanwhile, Noyzi had three vials of blood taken, as well as a sample for a DNA test.

Monday morning, Bill planned to take Arran in at 10:00am. That was what was written on the appointment slip the receptionist gave him last week. Unfortunately, the receptionist got the time wrong. He was supposed to go in at 9:00am. So poor Arran had to starve for a couple more hours before he got in to have the tumor removed. I had noticed it shrinking last week to almost nothing, but by Monday morning, it had blown up again. Mast cell tumors notably do this— they’ll shrink to nothing, then swell up a lot when they’re bothered. That’s one of the telltale signs. The tumors put out histamine, which causes the inflammation and itching that comes with these types of growths.

Because mast cell tumors are typically more invasive then they appear, and will sometimes come back with a vengeance if the margins aren’t good, the vet made a very large incision on Arran’s leg. She was a lot more aggressive than our old vet in Herrenberg was. I have noticed the vets up near Wiesbaden seem to be a bit more aggressive and up to date than the ones in the Stuttgart area are. I loved our Herrenberg vet, though. She just had a more conservative approach to surgery.

Arran has been wearing the dreaded cone of shame all week. He’s been surprisingly well-behaved and calm about it. We did finally put a “Comfy Cone” on him yesterday. I had bought one for Zane a few years ago, but misplaced it in the move. The Comfy Cone is less rigid than the traditional hard plastic Elizabethan Collar is and it makes less noise. But it’s not made of transparent plastic, so it’s harder for Arran to see or hear with it on. We took it off last night, and he behaved pretty well, but we put it back on this morning after he started licking his stitches. Poor guy. This is probably driving him crazy.

We should get the results of the biopsy next week… and maybe Noyzi’s DNA test results will be in, too. Noyzi was given a clean bill of health, which is a good thing. I hope Arran’s tumor was a low grade one. I hate canine cancer, and it wasn’t so long ago that we were dealing with it in Zane. But I guess whatever’s to be will be. As dog cancers go, I don’t think mast cell tumors are that horrible. At least they can be treated and often cured by surgery. But I still hate canine cancers… and mast cell cancer sometimes turns into lymphoma, which is what happened with Zane after three years of MCTs.

  • A shot of where the tumor was.
  • The dreaded E-collar. Arran kept bumping into things and scraping on the floor with it. It’s miserable.
  • Slightly more comfortable version, but it obscures his head and makes it harder to see and hear.
  • He did get a break last night. I think he was grateful.

In case anyone is wondering, the total cost of the operation and everything that came with it was about 590 euros, or around $700. Right now, the dollar is taking a beating against the euro. Still, this would have been a lot more expensive in many parts of the United States. We can also use a VAT form, which exempts us from paying German taxes on the procedure. At 19%, that’s a very good thing.

As you can see, Bill is Arran’s favorite person.

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German style euthanasia…

Sorry for not writing much on my travel blog lately. If you know me personally or have been following my main blog, you might know that the last week has been unexpectedly sad for us. I haven’t really been doing anything fun that I can write about. I’ve been too busy tending to one of the less pleasant aspects of life. We’ve been living in Germany this time since 2014. I knew we’d lose at least one of our dogs during our time here. I wondered if it would be like it is in the States. Yesterday, I found out.

Last Saturday, our beloved beagle Zane was unofficially diagnosed with lymphoma. At the time of his diagnosis, he had swollen lymph nodes under his jaw and behind his knees. Since Zane had also had mast cell cancer since 2016, the vet was pretty sure lymphoma was causing the swollen nodes, lethargy, and mild anorexia Zane was experiencing. Our local vet recommended getting him an appointment at the oncology department at the Tierklinik Hofheim.

I first heard of the Tierklinik Hofheim from our vet in Herrenberg, who had taken care of Zane and Arran when we lived near Stuttgart. She had told me it’s one of the best vet hospitals in Germany. At the time, we lived several hours away from it. Now, it’s a fifteen minute drive.

The local vet decided not to start Zane on steroids, since she wasn’t absolutely sure he had cancer. She just strongly suspected. Bill tried to get an appointment for Zane, but they are fully booked until September 20th. By Monday night, I knew that would be too late. Zane’s nodes were swelling so much that he could barely open his eyes. Bill took him to the Tierklinik Hofheim’s emergency department, where a vet aspirated his lymph nodes and the lymphoma diagnosis was official.

We started him on Prednisolone, which is supposedly easier on the liver than Prednisone is. He tolerated it well and enjoyed a couple of good days. I took many pictures, including a few in which he looks pretty normal. He ate lots of people food, enjoyed the warm, sunny days, and slept a lot. We even managed to take a couple of walks. Wednesday and Thursday, he went his regular route. I knew his time was borrowed, but I thought maybe he might make it to September. Yesterday morning, I realized it wasn’t meant to be.

Zane woke up so weak yesterday. He could barely stand. He’d get his haunches up, but his front half was stuck to the floor because he was too exhausted to get into a standing position. He managed to eat and do his business outside, but his bowel movements were dark and a bit bloody. He also had one accident in the house, although he was kind enough to do it on some tile flooring. Zane was extremely well house-trained and hadn’t had an accident in many years.

And then I noticed his belly. Part of it was distended. He resembled a lactating female, as part of it hung down like a teat. We had to wait until 9:00am to call the vet’s office. One other nice thing about being up here near Wiesbaden is that our vet regularly offers Saturday hours. In Herrenberg, different vets were on call.

Fortunately, the same vet who saw him last week answered the phone. Bill explained what was going on, and told her that we felt it was time to let Zane go. She scheduled our euthanasia appointment for noon, then asked Bill questions about what we wanted done with Zane’s remains. Since we move so frequently, when our dogs have died, we’ve always just had them cremated and don’t pick up their ashes. The ashes don’t mean anything to me. What matters to me is the special memories and the great love we shared.

After breakfast, which ordinarily Zane would have shared with us, he went to the front door. Bill said, “He’s expecting us to take him for a walk.” I doubt Zane would have made it very far, but he was a very routine oriented hound. He wanted us to get up and go to bed on a schedule, feed him and walk him at certain times of the day, and give him time in the yard. If something wasn’t done routinely, he would protest, usually in the form of soft whining.

Since he was so weak and exhausted, we spent a couple of hours with Zane out in the yard. He’s always loved sunning himself, and we had great weather for it yesterday. At one point, just before we clipped the leash on him, Bill looked at Zane in the eyes and told him how much he loved him.

We arrived at the clinic at about 11:45. I helped Zane out of the car and he gave a little yelp. It was the first yelp I’ve heard out of him since this ordeal began. In contrast, his predecessors, Flea and MacGregor, also died of cancers and theirs were much more painful. I’m grateful Zane’s last days were full of exhaustion and weakness rather than agony and excruciating pain. As cancer deaths go… at least in Zane’s case… canine lymphoma wasn’t so horrible. I would definitely take it over the prostate cancer that killed Flea, or the spinal tumor that killed MacGregor.

Zane greeted the vet with a sniff and a slight tail wag. Then we walked into the exam room. Zane got halfway on the scale, which amused me slightly. He was always such a good boy. Bill lifted him onto the table, since the exam room didn’t have the kind that raise electronically. The vet checked Zane over and drew blood, noting that it was kind of “watery”. She saw his belly and said she thought his spleen might have ruptured. It was good that we brought him in yesterday, because the vet felt he wouldn’t have survived the night. He likely would have gone into shock within hours.

I let Zane lick liverwurst flavored paste from a tube while the vet explained what she was going to do. She didn’t really have to, since we’ve been through this a few times. In fact, my first job was working for a veterinary hospital. I witnessed dogs being put down as part of that job.

Our last three dogs were euthanized in the United States. All three of the American vets sedated our dogs before giving them the shot that would end their lives. The German vet did not do that, but it also didn’t seem necessary in Zane’s case. I also noticed that the medicine she used was clear, rather than pink. I read somewhere that in the United States, euthanasia meds are colored pink so that they’re less likely to be given by mistake.

Bill put his arms around Zane and felt his heart. He does this whenever we lose a dog, so he knows when they are free of pain and sickness. I stroked Zane’s head as the vet administered the medication. It was over in seconds, and very peaceful.

I am so grateful to Dr. Glenn. She was very kind and compassionate. She chatted with us for a few minutes about Zane and we told her a brief version of his story. She gave me a big, sincere hug, and even shed a couple of tears herself, even though she really didn’t get a chance to know Zane like our old vet in Herrenberg, Dr. Schube, did. I’m grateful we didn’t have to ask Dr. Schube to end Zane’s life. They had a bond. Much like his predecessor, Flea, Zane was very much a canine ambassador. He never met a stranger.

Dr. Glenn told us they would send us the bill and we were welcome to spend as much time as we needed. Bill and I stayed with Zane’s body for about ten minutes, then went home to Arran, who seemed confused and upset about being left home alone. He brought us a toy and ran around the house frantically, until he finally settled down and hung out with us all day. He seems little unnerved about being the only dog now, although I could tell he knew that Zane wasn’t feeling well.

We usually get another dog soon after we lose one. I think this time, we’ll hold off on it for awhile. Arran is himself about nine or ten years old. He’s still vital and likes to play, but he doesn’t share well. He gets jealous and picks fights. I’ve also heard that Germans don’t like to let Americans adopt, thanks to the jerks in the military who dump their dogs rather than taking them with them. We’ll see what happens.

It seems to me that our dogs that have passed have inspired me to find new ones… In a lot of cases, it’s almost as if that dog was sent to us by his predecessor. When we got Arran after we lost our dog, MacGregor, we noticed he did some things that were very much like MacGregor. It was like MacGregor was sending us a sign. The same thing happened with Zane and his predecessor, Flea, although Zane and Flea had totally different personalities. As Zane got older, I’d swear I’d see glimpses of Flea coming out in him. I know it sounds like a lot of woo and it probably is… but it’s a comforting thought, just like the Rainbow Bridge story is.

Anyway… now I know. German style euthanasia is much like American style euthanasia. It sucks either way… although I’m grateful for a lot of things that made yesterday go better. Ultimately, I’m grateful that our sweet dog is no longer suffering and that we had each other for almost ten years. Although all of my dogs have been special in their own ways, I think Zane’s imprint on my heart is the most indelible. The next days are going to be hard as we adjust to life with Zane’s leadership. He kept everything on a schedule.

Edited to add: On September 13, we received the final bill for Zane’s euthanasia. In all, it cost about 230 euros for the procedure and cremation. We also received a “death certificate”, which I thought was kind of odd. However, the certificate listed Arran as the deceased dog, so we’ll have to get that corrected. I have really been missing Zane a lot. He meant so much to me… and for many reasons, his death has hit me particularly hard.

This is a video I made yesterday with pictures from all of our years with Zane…
More photos of Zane…
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