Have you ever gone through life wondering if the decisions you are
making at the time are the right ones? Have you ever loved something or
someone so bad and made a decision health-wise on their behalf knowing
it could go either way and if the odds aren’t in your favor, you had to
live with that decision the rest of your life whether it haunted you or
not? My Cassie Girl has cancer and it’s malignant. Cassie is my
13-year-old Cocker Spaniel. After years and years and years and years, I
decided to get another dog. She was a stray and just so happened to be
a cocker spaniel, my favorite breed of dog. Of course, I’d never had
one before so I had no idea the health issues cockers have (just spent
over $4000 to have my male Cocker’s eardrums removed because of a nasty
ear infection if that gives you any idea).
I named my new dog Chelsea. Chelsea stuck around with us for about a
year before she died in my daughter’s arms from unknown causes. I
cried for days. My boyfriend surprised me later with a new puppy. She
was beautiful, so sweet, adorable, sore from being picked up all the
time adorable, and I named her Cassie.
Cassie was the sweetest dog I ever had. She never bit anyone, except
one time she nipped at the neighbor’s pants legs for coming too close,
but talk about loving. The most loving dog you’d ever seen. Cassie
never really had many health problems as she grew up over the years.
Not like Max who decided to take a swim in the channel and came back
with a nasty ear infection that only got worse over time until we had to
get his eardrums removed. But you know, that dog can still hear. Just
dumbfounds you. Not real good, but he can hear. Casse and Max were
supposed to be lovers until we found out Max had no idea which end was
up so Cassie remained puppyless. We had bought Max to mate with Cassie
but it wasn’t in the cards and frankly I’m glad. We’re not a puppy mill
and never had any plans to become one.
While Max grew up to be the cantankerous one, Cassie was content to
sleep in the floor beside you. Such a sweet sweet dog. As Cassie got
older, she started showing signs of old age, like incontinence and
limping (figuring that was arthritis), but overall the dog was in
exceptional health despite her age. A few months ago, she developed a
lump under her mammary glands. A few days later, the lump bled but we
managed to get it under control and she seemed fine. About a month or
so after that, she developed another one but this one didn’t bleed nor
go away like the last one. It just kept getting bigger and bigger and
developed what looked to me like several lumps in one. My original
decision was to let her go. Let her live her life as happily as we
could make it. But then, something struck home. If I didn’t at least
save her, she was going to die and I was going to have that on my
conscious and I knew I couldn’t live with it. So I called the vet, made
the appointment and the diagnosis was he wanted to remove the lump;
however, it was the holidays (Thanksgiving) and he was going to be out
of town. So we set up the appointment for today, about two weeks later.
The wait was long and horrendous. I kept telling Cassie to hold in
there, that I was getting her help soon. I didn’t want it to erupt like
the last one…just a few more days, I’d tell her. I was lying in the
floor wrapping presents last night and I took a few pictures of her.
Just in case. And video. Just in case. Just in case. Didn’t the
doctor reassure me she had over 50% chance surviving this?
I wake at 5 am and she’s lying on the bed beside me. I reach over and
rub her golden head. She looks like she’s smiling. I get up and take a
shower to make that 7 a.m. appointment. She’s waiting for me
downstairs so I put her collar on and let her go pee before we make our
journey. Afterwards, we battle the wind and I put her on the passenger
side. There’s a little bit of snow out my back door and I wondered if
it had snowed last night. As we’re traveling to the doctor, I realize
it did snow. In fact, there was a police leading a convoy (us) down the
highway so we don’t get in an accident. I reach over and pet Cassie’s
head and she kisses my hand. We finally arrive and she’s really excited
to be there. I’m figuring she smelled other dogs in the grass or she
was just glad as heck to be out of the car. The doctor is waiting for
us behind the counter. It’s a little after 7. He’s not smiling. He
walks around and feels Cassie’s lump. “It’s grown,” I tell him. He’s
not the same as last time I saw him when he made me feel it was just a
matter of taking out the lump and it was all over. “You know it’s
cancer, right. And you know it’s malignant.” I don’t even remember
responding to tell you the truth. By this time, I’m starting to cry.
I’m fighting it, but not winning. I knew it was cancer, but why wasn’t
he just taking her back there and doing what I’m paying him to do and
being positive about this??? “I know you can’t guarantee anything,” I
tell him, “but what are the odds?” He said he didn’t know. He knew the
damn odds last time I was there, why was this time different??? “You
know you have the choice to just take her back home and let her live out
her life,” he says. I freaking didn’t know I had a choice in the
matter! Take her back home? Why freaking why? I want her to be
saved, not go home and let her die!!!! So I’m standing there with a
choice. I can take her home, let her live her life as peacefully as
possible until this thing explodes all over the place or I can let him
try to save her knowing full well I probably just ended her life right
then and there. That’s the way he made me feel. “Take her.” It came
out. I don’t know who was talking but that’s the decision. He took my
number and said they’ll call. I get in the truck and bawl my head off.
If that was the last time I will see my Cassie Girl, I’ll have to live
with it the rest of my life. And I never got to say good-bye. But you
know, there’s a force out there. And I prayed to it over and over with
tears streaming down my face so hard I couldn’t even see out of the
windshield, but if there’s any hope at all, any way my Cassie Girl can
come back home to me today, then I’ll know that it wasn’t her time and
that I made the right decision.
