I’m sad to announce the passing of another wonderful, loving dog that I’ve had for 1/3 of my life. His name was Junior (as he was the youngest of our trio of dogs we had when Fyvie and Herman were still alive) and he passed away from complications with bone cancer in his left leg.
My mom believed that Junior would make it to 13 or 14 like the other two but then she saw a bump on his leg last Wednesday and thought it looked odd. In a matter of days, it grew to about the size of a golf ball. At first we wondered if it was an allergic reaction or a bug bite – he had gotten those a few times which usually disappeared in matter of days. But this bump didn’t disappear, which made my mom schedule a vet appointment to get him in.
I found out via a Skype call with my folks this past Saturday and it didn’t seem real. At 10 years old, the vet said she was hesitant to put Junior through chemo or suggest amputation, since 10 is old for a greyhound. Realistically, she gave Junior a week until his bones were weakened by the growth, which would result in a break that would be excruciating for him. She suggested that we let him go sooner rather than later.
While I’ll always have the wonderful memories of him doing things like, destroying his Mr. Bill toy, stealing 6 waffles from the kitchen counter, and curling up in small corners on his back, it’s hard to not miss him and wish that he hadn’t contracted bone cancer. According to our vet, she mentioned that it wasn’t uncommon for big dogs like greyhounds to contract bone cancer and it was inevitable that we would rescue a greyhound who could get it.
The picture above was taken on Saturday before he left us. He went for a short walk around my alma mater and made a few people smile. It just killed me to know that his time was growing short while these folks believed that everything was okay.