There once was a dog . . .

I found out yesterday that Greta has bone cancer in her front, right leg, and the only thing to do is amputate the leg because of the aggressiveness of the cancer. The only good news in the last 24 hours has been that her bloodwork is, according to the vet, unusually clean, indicating that HOPEFULLY the cancer hasn't had time to spread. However, unless something changes in the next week, Greta will be a three-legged Great Dane as of next Wednesday. Keep your fingers crossed for good progress. I'm exhausted and terrified.

Well, she's not home yet, but she's doing well, for having one less leg. I got her to pee outside and eat a bowl of food at the vet today when I visited. Ahhh, a mother's persuasion. She looks a little rough, but not nearly as bad as I thought she would, and despite the exhaustive effort it takes right now, she's walk/hopping around on three legs really well. She only slipped once today, and it seemed to be because she forgot the fourth leg wasn't there.
I'm just happy she made it through the surgery and is up and about without slipping into deep depression or biting my hand off when I came to visit. At least maybe she'll blame the limb-loss on the vets instead of me. Think good thoughts for what's to come.
For her first official Tripod picture, Go here .

Today, I made the decision not to have chemo-therapy for Greta.
I took her to a pet oncologist last week, and reviewing the options, unfortunately, the biggest reality was that I just couldn't afford it. Balanced against everything else, of course.
And, just to clarify, by, "I can't afford it," I mean, it would literally bankrupt me.
And by "balanced against everything else," I mean that there is no guarantee, much like cancer anywhere, that after I spent a small fortune, Greta would be granted anymore of life than she is now.
This has been a hard decision, but I feel like it's one I can live with. In the last 24 hours, I've fluctuated from the self-inflicted "i'm a selfish bitch" to the "Greta's just getting back to normal and I can't see putting her through anything else."
Not to mention the fact that I can't manage to afford it, even after trying to cash out IRA's or contemplating another credit card.
Greta is actually running around the yard and house. She's eating a ton, as she used to before all this health ruckus. She's attempting to play with Nico, which is a big thing. And she's finally becoming Greta again, just Greta with three legs.
So, despite the fact that I have a realistic prognosis of the length of her life without chemo, I just want to give her the best days she has left.
So there's that.

Thanks for all the well-wishing. She gets it, I promise.