The Big C (cancer)

In November i started to get some pain in my front left leg, after telling Mum about it she said we should go to the Vets. I don't know why she call them vets, we all know they are doctors. Anyway off we went. After much poking and prodding, a needle in my butt, they told Mum that they thought i had torn a muscle in my shoulder.
So according to Mum with a bottle of tablets, a limping dog and a big vets bill we went home. On the way home i heard Mum on the phone (hands free of course) saying she did not think it was a muscle problem as i had not done anything to tear a muscle.

Over the next few weeks Mum kept giving me these treats which she called tablets. She told me i was a good girl for eating them, would give me a big fuss and some cheese or ham. Which was great but i did not really understand because these tablet things tasted so yummy.

Mum was just not happy, with my progress so back and foward we went to the vets. I kept hearing my Mum telling people the rising cost of my doctors bill, but she never hesitated in taking me back. they decided to X-ray my shoulder. The results showed no real damage so we were given some more of these yummy tablets and sent home being told it was most likely muscular and could take upto 6 months to heal. I had my tablets twice a day, no matter how much i begged, waved or done other tricks Mum never gave me any more.
But still the pain in my leg got worse, there were benifits though. I was not allowed to sleep on Mum's bed, but because i was getting more and more uncomfortable Mummy slept on the sofabed in my room so she could keep an eye on me. I would lay on my bed get uncomfortable, so i would get up, often yelp with pain, walk around a little then go and stand in front of Mummy holding up my sore leg, looking as small as i could and trying to make my brown eyes as big as i could. Mummy would look at me and smile then pat the sofabed next to her. I would climb up next to her and we would both fall asleep(with Mummy still cuddling me). She say's i am a fidget, i was only repaying the love, she would wake in the morning with my legs wrapped loving around her ( OK so some times they were across her face).

I was finding it harder to walk and especially get up and down the stairs, which was a bit of a problem as we live on the first floor. Mummy had a word with me and said she did not think it was my muscle, but to be brave and we would get it sorted. So i was as brave as i could be, i mastered the stairs using my three good legs, still managed to bark at other dogs. At Christmas i done my usual job with the same vigor as always and helped everyone open their presents.
But just after Christmas my pain got worse, at times i could not hide the pain from Mum.
So off we went to the doctors again, the next day my Mum took me back again. Later that day after i had been crying in pain fopr hours she phoned my doctor again.
Eventually Mum said she wanted me refured. I felt so important, i was going to see a special Doctor. Mum did not seem so pleased, i think it was because of the bill thing again.

We had an appointment for the 12th January, Mum said i needed to be seen before then. Eventually we were seen on 2nd January.
I was very well behaved there was so many fantastic smells there. Mummy however was very fidgety. The Doctor we saw was very nice, he spoke softly to me which made my whole body quiver. He did poke and prod me, but when it hurt he made a fuss of me and my tail wagged like it had a life of its own. Him and Mummy talked for a long time, lots of words i had never heard before, Osteosarcoma, chemo, radiotherapy, amputation. Mummy acted very brave, but i know her better than most and knew she was scared so i snuggled into her to give her some support.
Anyway finally i was told to go with the Doctor for more X-rays and Mummy would see me in a couple of hours.

That was Wednesday as it turned out i did not see Mum again until Saturday. I later found out that i had this Osteosarcoma thing (you will have to read my Mum's post to find out more about it), aparently it is a very aggressive cancer. Whilst i was in the kennel at the surgery Mummy spoke for a very long time with my Doctor and a Oncologist, it was decided that i was to have my bad leg amputated (which i now know means cut off). Mummy was told i would have the operation the following day, but some other poor dog had more problems than me the next day and my leg was not removed until Friday. I felt a bit groggy friday afternoon, managed to eat a bit but just did not fancy going outside.

On Saturday i felt so much better, i enjoyed my breakfast and went outside and done my wee and poo. Then i thought i would have another little nap.