Sam and the Continuation of the Craptacular

My sweet boy a few weeks after surgery.

For those of you who aren't a Facebook friend or who haven't been following my blog for all that long, that doggo in the pic is my sweetheart, Sam. (If you're interested in his history, you can click here.)

Unfortunately, a few weeks ago, Sam stopped eating. Since I had already gone through stomach cancer with my old Shepherd, Josey, I was immediately concerned this was a repeat of that situation.

It turns out I was partially right. Sam was diagnosed with Hemangiosarcoma. He had a baseball-sized tumor growing in the middle of his spleen which needed to come out. They diagnosed him after sending it out for a biopsy. I found out on my birthday. Ugh.

Sam is still with me, but his energy level is down. Since this type of cancer is vascular, the next tumor could show up anywhere. The oncologist I consulted with said that usually happens within a month, and most dogs only survive three to six months after the surgery, and that's with chemo. I just can't see putting him through that without the assurance of at least a year or more of good quality of life for him.

In the meanwhile, the oncologist gave me a couple of over the counter supplements to make him comfortable. And while it may sound weird to you, I decided to search for a new puppy for Sam to help me train while he's still with us. I know he's missed his friend Coda deeply, so even though he initially doesn't like other dogs, I know that he'll be fine with a puppy once a few days have passed. Maybe he'll even perk up, some.

I'm trying to keep it together. Focus on positive things. I throw the ball for him until he gets too tired. He's on my bed with me every night. He gets lots of hugs and snuggles from my boss and coworkers, and of course my mom and dad.

After some thought, I decided to go with a breeder for a puppy. It turns out German Shepherds and most other large breeds end up blowing out their knees when they're fixed too young. Something about needing the hormones in order for the joints to form correctly - this happened to my other shepherd, Coda, when she was young. Rescues, understandably, have all puppies fixed before they go home, and Sam won't tolerate an adult dog. So, a breeder it is.

 The new pup has been chosen. She's a lovely black German Shepherd with lines tracing to Germany. Her grandfather has been best in the world in obedience for three years. And, like all puppies, she's adorable!

That little face! Just kills me!

I should be picking her up next weekend. It's going to be a bittersweet occasion.

*Sigh* I am so ready for things to start turning around for me. Maybe starting with money coming to me and my dog being miraculously cured?