The dog with 9 lives

Well, he's dodged another bullet.

The general vet seemed fairly convinced it was osteosarcoma, however the specialist surgeon immediately determined it to be similar to a previous weird lump made of fibrous tissue.

He then had a check of his joints & aspirated a few other lumps and declared Bugsy a freak.

Nine going on four he said. LOL. That's my boy.

We have been celebrating life by visiting, playing, swimming and generally 'doing' stuff.

Being outgoing brings out the best in Bugsy. I always find it kind of remarkable.

Tonight I decided to take him to a local microbrew, turned out they were having a fundraiser, live music and massive crowds. Loads of people, kids & dogs. Seriously noisy. 

He was so happy, couldn't stop smiling.

People patting him on the head, stepping over him, kids screaming; his response "I love this place!"

I loved to see the differing reactions to him, people stopping for kisses and petting to horrified looks of terror. No matter, he just kept smiling, wiggling & waggling.

Damn I love this dog.

He spent the morning swimming & heron hunting with his GSP puppy friend, helped with yard work & household chores & impatiently waited to go to the microbrew. 

He isn't everyone's cup of tea but I couldn't ask for a better canine buddy.

Thanks Bugsy for being a freak of the very best kind

Feeling more positive

As the time approaches I seem to be getting more and more comfortable that the prognosis will be good.

I keep looking at my Beastie boy and trying to find signs he is in terrible pain, or ill-health. It just isn’t there.

This morning we took a nice long walk in the sticky white air of the North Carolina summers, he began panting in the first half mile but so did I.

Then we saw a friend, and another friend. Both were greeted with oodles of joy and energy. Much bouncy insanity ensued from all the furry pups.

After that brief interlude of cwazee, we continued on our way. He has taken to checking in with me to see if we are turning around or moving on and he was happy to see we’d continue.

We saw a new human friend (we met yesterday, to Bugsy this is now a friend) and then two more human friends with their dogs.

All the while I saw no hitch in his step, no exhaustion, plenty of drool, but then again that is fairly normal for Beastie on walks, especially hot humid walks filled with canine nuttiness.

His nose is working fine – too fine as per usual.

Yesterday I lost count of the squirrel chases, he clearly feels this is a high priority assignment and he absolutely has to ensure they don’t eat all the bird seed.

He wants all the treats and food you will offer, is drinking fine and eliminating fine.

He is playful and downright funny.

Basically he seems absolutely normal for him.

As Thursday afternoon approaches I am feeling less and less afraid of what I will hear. I have even been thinking that I wish I did the xrays yesterday; however I know this decision is for the best.

So thanks for all the hugs and prayers and thoughts – I sure hope we don’t need them again soon.

That day

Many of you have followed the convoluted life that has been Bugsy's life.
You know the level of dedication I have had to keep him up and running at Bugsy speed.
You know that in his way he is special.
And you know that I love him in the way that one does when you realize your heart dog is your best buddy, ever.
Well Bugsy is aging.
Remarkably his muzzle remains mostly devoid of gray and his best canine friends all remain under the age of 2.
There have been so many health issues, which seems so odd when you look at this strong, muscled, shiny-coated mutt.
In each instance I have poured myself into finding the right vet to provide the right solution and fortunately it has worked so far.
A couple of years ago the lumps started to arrive. A cyst, a lipoma, all normal benign stuff.
And then a few months back one that seemed different. I showed it to the vet who said, "I'm not worried about that"
And three weeks ago when it seemed to present itself as a "hey, yo, look at this" my stomach dropped.
Today we saw the vet.
No aspiration.
Let's get xrays.
If the bone is compromised, we'll xray his chest.
Let's have that done on Monday.

And this is my boy.
Who several people as they entered the vet's office said, "wow what a handsome dog" and received kisses and tail wags for noticing.
This my boy who patiently tolerated all the manipulations the vet put him through and then wagged and wiggled and kissed the vet.
The vet looking at him as he wagged and wiggled with a sadness in his eyes.
And saying, "aw Bugs" over and over.

I thought I was going to be fine. I am not.
I know we won't know until we get the xrays. However I do know that my boy is nearly 9, is an XL neutered as a baby male and that they are prone to osteosarcoma.
I know that I know three people who's 100-115lb dogs died at 9.
I do know there isn't a damn thing more I could have done for him.
I have sacrificed so much to make sure I was the owner he has needed.
I have no regrets.
I also know I do not know how to imagine life without him.
He is my partner in crime.
He is the being that never says no to an adventure.
He is the being that looks into my eyes with anticipation and expectation.
He is my guaranteed joy.

Pray for my boy
Pray for me
This cannot be his time.