Diagnosis

It’s been a busy spring. I’ve interviewing for jobs, and my gorgeous, sweet, goofy Doberman has made many friends in dogsitters. Most recently, one of my coworker’s wives has become his regular person, and she is WONDERFUL.

After my last interview, I got back to my apartment late on April 16, 2016, only to find the toilet wasn’t working… plus I was an hour late getting home due to an airport delay, and I REALLY liked and wanted this job… so I was stressed. Romulus came home the next morning, and his sitter asked if I thought he was limping. As he came into the apartment, I didn’t notice that he was. However, as the day wore on, everytime he got up from the couch he would gimp for a few steps, then get back to a normal gait. I figured he’d strained himself on a walk or was getting arthritis – he is 9 years old, after all.

At the end of the first week I emailed my vet, who said to let him rest a little and if there was no improvement, bring him in. By the end of the second week, his limp was progressing to all the time, with no improvement with walking and now he looked swollen in his right wrist. I booked an appointment for the vet, and my boyfriend picked us up – I’m in Boston and don’t have a car, but the limp was so bad I couldn’t imagine walking him.

During the exam, the vet was reassured by the swelling, but did mention the possibility of sarcoma. We got xrays, and indeed, the leading diagnosis was sarcoma. Chest xrays were next, which, thankfully didn’t show any disease in Rom’s lungs. The vet had a few more things to get ready for us before we left, so as we walked into the waiting room, my first of many sobbing sessions started.

Romulus and I met after he was given up for adoption in St. Louis by a woman who had lost her home. I had just purchased a home with a yard, and was looking for my very first dog to adopt. I’d been to several shelters and met many wonderful animals, but when I saw him, there was an immediate feeling of “we belong together.” Love at first site, in this case, does indeed exist. As soon as the shelter allowed me, I adopted and took him home. The bond was swift and complete. Every day he jumped excitedly at the door when I got home. We got into a great routine of dinner, walking playing. I lost weight. My stress – due almost 100% to the job I was in – decreased. He literally had the same effect on me anti-depressant medications are supposed to have. Eventually, I met a man I would marry, who also had a dog, and he loved Romulus, too – as did my neighbors, coworkers, and anyone else who came across this amazing dog. However, after adopting a 3rd dog into our home, I could no longer easily walk them together, and didn’t have time to walk them separately. My husband would let them play in the yard, but I don’t think it was as good for them or for me as the walks had been. After 5 years together, my marriage ended due to my husband developing a substance abuse problem. My heart felt like it’d been torn from my chest. I had several wonderful friends and a loving family who supported me, but it was Romulus who got me through. The day my now ex moved out, we started walking again. That day we walked too far – Rom chipped a nail and was bleeding by the time we got home. I sprayed his nail with an antibiotic spray, then collapsed on the floor and cried, Romulus cuddled with me all night in that exact spot.

We moved to Boston a few months later, and he lost his yard. But we walked – boy, did we walk. And Boston LOVES Romulus. Not as much as I do, though. This diagnosis tore a whole in my very core. Thankfully, I’ve been able to speak to many vets across the country. Because I cannot stand to see this dog in pain, not being able to walk – his favorite thing in the world – he’s undergoing a forequarter amputation on May 12, 2016. After, since he has no other detectable disease at this time, he’ll get chemotherapy. And I’m determined that his quality of life, for whatever time he has left, is as amazing as I can make it. It’s the least I can do, after all the times he’s saved me.