Soon after I got Kess I started to look for things for her to do.  She was competing in flyball and disc, and taking herding lessons.  Every once in a while she would come up lame on her right hind leg.  There was never any associated swelling and x-rays showed nothing.  It always seemed to clear up with a few days rest, so I never thought much of it.

Well one day the week before a tournament Kess came up lame.  It seemed like such a simple thing at the time.  I remember e-mailing the team and telling them Kess had to take a week off, I figured she’d torn a muscle or something.  This decision put into motion a series of events that would forever change Kess’slife.  While I was out doing who knows what that weekendmy husband took Kessoutside to wander around while he did yard work.  Apparently he was throwing the ball without paying much attention to where it.  This is all good an well for a normal dog, but Kess collided full speed (approx 20mph) with the wall of our shed while chasing down the ball. 

When I got home Kessdidn’t greet me at the door so I knew something was up.  My husband mentioned she yealpedwhen she was playing ball, but didn’t describe the incident.  I found her hiding the the garage and obviously in pain.  I gave her a 1/2 aspirin and set her up a nice place to rest.  By the next day she was doing much better and was up and about.  Day 3 she seemed fine, allthough still limping a little on her leg.  I assumed the pain was associated with her leg and after a couple more days she seemed back to herself.  I took her out to play and she quickly crumpled.  My heart sank and I rushed her to the vet.  The x-rays showed a ruptured disc over her hips.  The continued activity had only made the situation worse.  I came home andgot the full story from my husband, and I was not pleased.

Kess was never paralyzed as a result of the disc rupture, and we didn’t have the money for an mri or surgery so I just waited and waited.  I read online that these things can sometimes heal on their own with enough rest so Kess was put on crate confinement and steroids for almost 3 months.  I watched her beautiful muscles waste away.  I watched her suffer and become frustrated and depressed about her confinement.   Of course during this time we pretty much completely forgot about her leg.

After months of waiting Kess was allowed out of the crate and could walk on leash or go for short romps, but no directed play (ball, disc, etc).  One year later I decided it was safe to let her run again.  After just a couple of weeks of fun we noticed the swelling in Kess’s ankle.  So it was back to the vet.  They extracted some cells from the growth and determined that it was not cancer.  We scheduled a surgery to have the mass removed, and after surgery the vet called to say she was pretty sure it was this really agressive horrible cancer and Kess was going to die, and that we should get it tested again.  They tested part of the tumor, which to everyone’s surprise, also came back negative.  Kess was patched up and sent home with painkillers and steriods.  The leg just never healed,  it was always swollen and  just a mess.  Six months later after numerous rounds of antibiotics and steroids the best excuse the vet had was autoimmune disorder attacking the joint.  I knew that wasn’t right, so I took her for a 2nd opinion. 

Vet number 2 also tested cells from the growth which came back negative, at this point I was convinced it wasn’t cancer and was getting pretty tired of shelling out more money for cancer tests.  This vet thought that maybe Kess was just to crazy to heal right.  Even in her crate she sits tense and at attention, keeping an eye on everything that’s going on so I thought that he might be on to something.  So Kess got a great big compression wrap put on her leg to see if they could keep it stable long enough for it to heal.  This went on for 4 weeks and required weekly visits.  I had drive 40 min to drop her off and come back later in the day to pick her up (no easy task with 2 kids under 4, which are both on different school schedules).  When we took off the wrap the leg looked worse than ever.  Vet number 2 said he had no idea what it was and suggested a specialist. 

here's Kess stealing blue berries while sporting her compression wrap

By the time I made it toVet number 3 I was pretty sure I just wanted the leg removed.  The vet looked at all the history and listened to me and started to go over all of the options.  I stopped her mid sentence and said “what about removing the leg?”  A look of relief washed over her face, and she said, “I’m so glad you brought that up.”  Apparently she’d been building up to it.  Within moments the surgery was scheduled.  They still didn’t know what was wrong, but it was clear from the condition of the leg that it would never heal and be a constant source of pain.  I declined further cancer tests on the leg prior to surgery. 

 The surgeon was curious about the root cause of Kess’s problem and decied to do an autopsy on the leg after the amputation.  She called me and asked me to please test for cancer one last time with bone and tissue samples.  She said after looking at the tumor it couldn’t be anything else.  Still convinced it wasn’t cancer I agreed to the tests. 

Well two weeks later when the Dr called to say it was cancer I was pretty stunned, we had after all already tested the thing 3 times, and done numerous x-rays.  Of course I hopped on the computer and googled synovial cell sarcoma.  Everything on the web says your dog will be dead between 6-36 months.  I was a mess, sleeping on the floor of the living room with my wounded dog, feeling like I just put Kess through more misery only to have to watch her die slowly from cancer.  A  few days later I’d formulated all of my questions and concerns and was able to talk with the surgeon in person, who actually felt that Kess had a pretty good chance of a long and normal life.  Since the cancer hadn’t spread, despite having years to do so, the surgeon felt that it was likely that we’d seen the last of it (can you say relieved).  They have recommended annual x-rays to keep an eye on things.

So how do I feel about things looking back.  Vet num 1 = schmuck, you’re a scientist you’re supposed to dig for answers, if you’re to burned out to do that get a new job! 

Vet number 2 tried his best, admitted he didn’t know the answer and recommened a specialist.  I’m very happy he was a big enough man to admit that he didn’t know rather that just come up with something to shut me up.  He also asked me to please update him since it was turning out to be such a curious case. 

Specialist and vet number 3 thank you so much, you’re our hero! 

I also encouraged all of the Drs I worked with to look into which tumor testing facilities they use and if there is any third party system for publishing how often their results are wrong.  I followed up with a letter about my experience to all of the vets involved.  Even though I was pretty angry with vet number one, what I really wanted was for everyone to learn from the experience.  Every vet we saw was sure it was cancer and let the test results guide their decisions.   Hopefully this experience will teach all of the Drs involved to trust their instincts andto be willing to dig a little deeper to find an answer in the future. 

In the end the first diagnosis we got turned out to be right.  So with all this in mind I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s not much you can do about the past or the future so Kess and I will dwell in the present andtake each day as they come.  The final price tag was somewhere around $6k, andeven my husband agrees that it was worth it in the end.  Our family just wouldn’t be the same without crazy Kess.