Our journey
It’s been around two weeks since I lost my best bud. I don’t normally post things, but this page helped me when it came time to make that fucking tough decision.
My dog Cali was 4.5 years old when she started limping on her front right leg. I brought her to the vet and they gave her meds at first, but she kept limping. I brought her back for X-rays, and the last thing I thought she could have was cancer. When the results came back and the vet talked to me about what they saw (osteosarcoma), my whole world shattered.
I didn’t even think amputation for a dog her size was possible (150 lb Great Dane). After going to the emergency room the next day at the biggest animal hospital around, I was finally seen by their vet and they gave me the options of amputation, chemo, or nothing.
It was the hardest decision I ever had to make because I couldn’t imagine her with 3 legs, or putting her through all of that and having her wake up wondering where her leg was, then looking up at me thinking, “What have you done to me?”
It wasn’t easy, but what it came down to for me was that she was already in a lot of pain with this bum leg that was hurting her, and I wanted to take that pain away. I didn’t know how she would do getting around afterward, but I went through with it in the hopes of giving her a shot to beat this. Maybe cutting it out would work. I prayed it hadn’t spread.
She got around pretty good at first. It took her at least a month to really start feeling comfortable. But after a little while, she was good. She was happy as could be. We would go to the park, go swimming — she was solid.
I hated when people at the dog park would say, “Oh, that poor dog,” or anything that made her seem less than. The way I saw it, we were good, we were solid, and we were in this together.
She lasted 9 months with an amputated leg, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
She really was the best dog ever. I miss her so bad.