Not as expected

I thought that this was a day to look forward to, a step toward regaining our active life. K and I strolled out into the intense rays of the sun barely above the horizon.

K’s eye reflected the sun and we enjoyed those quiet moments as the forest awakened.

Later in the day, the surgeon unveiled K’s casted leg and asked her to walk. Immediately, his brow furrowed but he light-heartedly said “she probably just needs some time to get used to having a naked paw”. We walked her around a bit but she continued to walk as if glass shards were embedded in her paw.

The surgeon started palpating her toes, and his brow furrowed even more. He said that he wanted some x-rays, just to rule out bad things. After doing the x-rays, he sent me and K to start physical therapy and said that he’d tell me the results afterwards.

Within 10 minutes, as K walked on an underwater treadmill, the surgeon's dark shadow loomed in the doorway. The “C” word leaped out of his mouth – bone cancer. He wanted to do an array of tests to check K’s chest, abdomen, and further probe her toe bone. His expression told me that we needed these tests asap. K was swept away into the back of the hospital. It felt like she was snatched from me.

It turned out that K’s chest and abdomen are clear of discernible cancer. And, we cannot be absolutely sure what evil process is eating away her toe bone. We decided, for now, to slow down before deciding what actions to take.

My girl is only seven years old – it’s too soon for this. We'll do everything in our power to help her.

The power of the paw came through at the vet hospital, as people overheard vignettes between me and the surgeon, they realized that my relatively young dog might be under siege from cancer. They went out of their way to say that we'd be in their thoughts and prayers. Dog people are such good-hearted people.