Rolling Dog Farm Blog

Blind Widget was rolling around on her bed this weekend, belting out one Christmas carol after another. She joins us in wishing you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!  

It's hard to imagine that a dog going through chemotherapy for lymphoma can be feeling this good. We've definitely had our ups and downs along the way — a couple of the chemo drugs are much harder on her than others, and as a result the oncologist is changing Widget's protocol — but overall she's been remarkably bouncy, bossy and boisterous. We are cherishing this Christmas with her, and grateful she is doing so well given her medical challenges.

We also are incredibly grateful for all the donations we've been blessed to receive. That's the only reason we can care for disabled animals like Widget and her friends here, and why we can continue to take in new ones like Tanner. If you haven't already made a gift this year, we hope you'll consider doing so during the holidays. (And don't forget, donations are tax-deductible!)

Thank you for all your support, and we'll see you in January!

Happy holidays!

P.S. Our holiday print newsletter is now online as a PDF here.

 

I took that photo of Darla on her bed this morning after (apparently) a long night of moving her various blankets around trying to get everything just right. The rather disheveled appearance of her bed didn't seem to bother her. What bothered her was that housekeeping hadn't arrived yet to make the bed and tidy things up. We explained that housekeeping was delayed today because the staff was particularly busy at their other jobs this time of year, which is doing thank-you letters and emails to donors for their year-end gifts. And besides, we pointed out, she would have to actually get off the bed before the housekeepers could make her bed. We left her alone to ponder this.

We added the ramp after her surgery so she wouldn't jump up on to the bed. But we found she wouldn't use the ramp unless we were standing there insisting she use it. She much preferred jumping up and down. So we'd stand there and point to the ramp, blocking her other approaches to and from the bed so she'd have to use the ramp. We'd get that look you get from kids when you tell them, "Eat your spinach. It's good for you."

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I took this photo early on Tuesday morning as Alayne and I were getting the van ready for the trip to Peak Veterinary Referral Center in Burlington. Widget may be blind but she can hear the engine running, and she knows what that means — it's time to see her doctors!

We always put Widget out for her last potty stop before leaving, and after she does her business she heads to the fence and stares in the direction of the van. She'll stay there until we scoop her up and put her in the vehicle. It's as if she's afraid we'll forget and drive off without her. She actually looks forward to going, and she seems to know when it's "Burlington Tuesday" — the morning routine is different and starts earlier because of the road trip. So she's ready for the journey and has her bags packed.

Travis is the same way — he enjoys going to Peak, too. When we let him out of the house, he runs for the van and jumps into his crate in the back. Once at the clinic, he gets so excited when he sees his vet techs he can barely contain himself!

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Darla is recovering from cancer surgery she had yesterday at Peak Veterinary Referral Center in Burlington. In the photo is Peak's board-certified surgeon, Dr. Kurt Schulz, operating on Darla, assisted by his surgery tech Theresa.  

Just over a week ago I discovered a round, flat growth smaller than a dime on her left side while petting her. The only reason I think I even noticed it was because the growth was just at the edge of an area on her belly that had been shaved for a previous ultrasound. We had seen something similar several years ago with one of our personal dogs, Goldie. It turned out to be a mast cell tumor, so this small growth on Darla set off our alarm bells. 

I took Darla in last week to see one of our internists at Peak, Dr. Dani Rondeau, for an evaluation. She pulled cells out to examine under a microscope and came back to the room about five minutes later with a frown on her face. Sure enough, she found some mast cells, but cautioned we needed to have a full pathology analysis done before we had anything definitive. 

Dani called late the next day with the lab results: Yes, it was a mast cell tumor. At this point we don't know the grade or how clean the margins are following surgery until the tissue Kurt removed yesterday is sent to the lab for further analysis. We should know that in a few days.

Here's Kurt doing a pre-surgery exam on Darla yesterday morning — you can tell she was one stressed out girl:

She came through the surgery in good shape and I was able to bring her home yesterday evening. She's not very happy with me today but I think she'll get over it!

Also on board for the trip to Peak were Widget for another round of chemotherapy, Travis for another round of tongue depressors (25!) and Tanner for his work-up.

The great news on Travis is that we took a week off as planned and didn't lose any ground, and in fact Marielle was able to get the additional two tongue depressors in. That will be where we stay until his oral surgery in January. A lot of people asked whether his mouth will stay open in the future. That's the part we don't know yet; right now he's on a low dose of prednisone, which should help keep his jaw from closing back up. Whether his jaw stays open after we take him off prednisone following his oral surgery is an open question, and only time will tell.

I will have a full report on Tanner for Monday's blog, but suffice to say he melted everyone's heart at Peak yesterday.

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This young fellow arrived last Wednesday night, brought out to us by our pet transport company, TLC Pet Transport. He had been picked up as an emaciated stray and held in an Arkansas animal control shelter for over a month. He was facing euthanasia because his time was up, the kennels were overflowing, and the shelter had an 85% euthanasia rate last year. Despite that staggering statistic, the animal control officer and dedicated volunteers are trying to do everything they can to save the animals who end up there. A volunteer named Holli H. contacted us about this three-legged dog who had been named Hobble Foot or alternately, Tripod. We renamed him Tanner.

She wrote, "He is very sweet and smart. He gets along with the other dogs in his kennel, but really needs out. Please, if you think you can help this guy, I will find a way to get him to you."

Holli is one of the many unsung heroes of the animal welfare community, quietly working behind the scenes to save animals one by one. Most of the disabled animals who come to us only make it out alive because an individual like Holli works so hard to find another option for them.

We agreed to take him, and we offered to have him boarded at a local vet clinic until our transport could get there. We figured that would ensure he was safe while also freeing up much needed space at the shelter. So a couple of days after Thanksgiving, Holli pulled him from the shelter and took him to the vet clinic. 

Last Monday, he left on the transport and arrived here very late Wednesday night. Despite being fed at the shelter, he is still very skinny. Here's a photo we took that night when feeding him dinner in our quarantine kennel:

We've since wormed him, which should also help him get weight back on.

He is as sweet and loving as Holli said, and just melts in your arms. His biggest medical issue is that stump of a leg, which is raw and bleeding at the end:

We took that photo the next morning, after we let him out in an exercise yard by himself. Typically if a veterinarian is going to remove a leg, he or she will take it off at the hip rather than leave so much of the remaining leg to dangle down. Because Tanner still has the muscles attached to the entire thigh bone, he tries to use that leg, and often scrapes it across the ground or inadvertently pivots on it. The stump also just doesn't look surgically done. My hunch is that he lost the lower part of his leg to a trap.

I am taking him to our specialists at Peak Veterinary in Burlington tomorrow for a work-up and an evaluation of Tanner's leg by the surgeon there, Dr. Kurt Schulz.

Here are some more photos we took yesterday afternoon (yes, the snow had melted but it was still cold!) … in this next one you can sure see the submissive posture:

He does cower and shrink sometimes when he first approaches us, and we suspect he's definitely been ill-treated in the past. But he still very much wants to be loved up, so once we begin petting him and he gets that assurance, he gets all wiggly and affectionate. If we get down face to face with him, he'll eagerly kiss us. Here's another shot showing what a handsome boy he is:

The shelter thought he could be a Spaniel/Beagle mix, which we could see in him … or he could be just a very cute Heinz 57 mix. Sometimes I think I see a bit of Foxhound in him too. But who knows … or cares? Cute is cute!

We'll have a much better idea of what's going on with him after tomorrow's visit to Peak. 

Our ability to say "yes" to a dog like Tanner is due entirely to the donations we receive from our supporters. We simply couldn't do this otherwise. So thanks to all of you who make those gifts — Tanner is one very lucky boy because of you. For him, this was an amazing Christmas present!

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Vicky L., who adopted blind Lucy from us back in 2011, just sent us some more photos … including the one above of daughter Kendall on the left and Lucy on the right. Please notice how together they take up the entire couch and leave no room for Mom or anyone else. I told Vicky my hunch is that they planned it that way.

She also sent this one of Lucy under the Christmas tree they had just set up:

Vicky wrote, "I love how Lucy parked her bottom there just to remind me she's the best gift we have ever received…and YES she would be right about that."

Thank you, Vicky and Kendall, for giving Lucy such a wonderful home!

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