Today I dropped off my younger greyhound for her fourth round (of six) of chemo. The particular drug is toxic to the kidneys, so they keep her for a full day- flush with fluids for three hours, adminsiter, flush with fluid for three hours, come home. It's a long drive to the oncology vets and we have to stop several times on the way home to let her "use the yard."
I mentioned her illness a while back but haven't been posting too many updates on it- this little thing, an election, took most of my blogging energy. Anyway, she's doing remarkably well. She adjusted to life on three legs quite quickly. Now that all wound issues are cleared up and she's used to it, she's the happiest dog. She's really quick to push for affection which was never really her way before. We now know that she must have been in a lot of pain, and for a while, before this all happened; she's pain-free and joyous these days.
I left her with the caring oncology techs at Red Bank Vetrinary Hospital. I walked out as they were taking her into the back and she kept pulling to go with me. I had to stop and talk to other people there- she's a strikingly beautiful dog, a rescued retired racer, and with only three legs people ask about her all the time. I get in the parking lot a few minutes later and try not to cry. She's going to be fine today, I keep saying to myself. The chemo isn't so bad and she's had no major side effects. Her prognostic factors are all good, and she should remain a happy dog for hopefully at least another year or more. It's just that I can't think about losing her. So I won't (I'll just write about it instead. Yeah, that'll work.)
I've gotta hold it together, especially when the kids go with me this evening to pick her up. It does no one any good to see Mommy crying over a dog who doesn't even seem sick. She's going to be fine today, her joyous self. We must enjoy this as long as possible.