And I just got the icky maple cream one.
It's official. Zoe has cancer.
A couple of weeks ago, we took her to Park Avenue Animal Hospital for a bone biopsy. Carolyn McCutcheon has been taking care of my mongrel hoard for many, many years. I trust her and respect her. She's a bit of a House character in that she can diagnose anything on instinct. But without the freaky addiction and angry bedside manner.
The pathology came back Monday. Carolyn rushed it because when she got in there, she said it wasn't pretty. The news is not good. Zoe has a particularly aggressive form of sarcoma. This particular kind sets up the mother ship in the bone somewhere. In this case, it's the extreme upper femur next to the ball joint. A bad place for breakage. After it sets up camp, it immediately sends out ninjas to the various organs of the body. And they wait. Quietly. The mother ship is a selfish sarcoma. It likes to eat its fill of bone first. If it is removed, a chemical it sends out to the ninjas telling them to stay put, will be removed also. And they will know it's time to attack.
My friend, Kathy Mitchener, is one of the best veterinary oncologists in the well, just about anywhere. She works at Angelcare. Kathy has a new drug with high results for prolonging life, bone strength and pain management.
So that's where Zoe and I went on Tuesday. She was so frightened, they had to sedate her. While my big sweet dog napped peacefully to the drip of her IV, I sat on the floor with her heavy head on my lap, reading Cesar Milan and Cat Fancy magazines for two hours.
But Zoe does feel better. So much so, I can't keep her from running. Although at this point it's more of a hop/skip! We're going to keep her comfortable. Give her all the lacrosse balls she wants to tear up. Take her out for ice cream and give her the Carmen Cone.
When Carmen was alive, Hud and I would take her out for ice cream on a hot summer day. When one of us got to the bottom, about a four inch cone, we'd give it to her. Whenever we go out for ice cream at The Michoacana, we still call who gets the Carmen Cone.
Only now beautiful Zoe will get the Carmen Cone. And all of the empty peanut butter jars, too.
