© 1999-2007, Tamara Burnett

First of all, let me begin by saying I consider myself a private person when it comes to family troubles. After adjusting to our plight, I have decided to share our story with everyone in the hope that it may help someone else facing the loss of a cherished pet. Never very far from me, Pepper is lying at my feet as I write his story. Pepper, one of my competition dogs, one of my best friends; a sable Shetland Sheepdog male, "Peps" turned seven years old on February 12 of this year. I still remember him as a surprise birthday present puppy from my husband. To Pepper's credits are numerous agility titles, a herding title, obedience titles, first place in Open Agility at 1998 Sheltie Nationals in Tuscon. He was, until this happened, also a working therapy dog at Washoe Medical Center Pediatrics. Because we have compromised his immune system with his medical treatments, he can't be exposed to potential infection now. He was the gentle little dog the kids could walk in the hallway and cuddle with on their beds. Many of the kids cherish the "magic" Polaroid pictures of them with Pepper. For a number of years, we have taught Responsibile Pet Ownership programs and dog safety in Washoe County's elementary school and libraries. He truly is an extraordinay dog. Those who have met him always remember him as the little "Lassie dog."

My day started out normally. I had bathed Pepper and was grooming him that morning, January 7th, 1999 when I found the lymph nodes under his chin were enlarged. They were grape-sized. He pulled away as I brushed him. My heart sank, for I knew what this might mean. It was all I could do to get through my morning teaching private obedience classes. As soon as I was free, I went directly to my veterinarian's office.

Yes, unless it was just reactive nodes, Pepper had cancer and the prognosis would be bleak. The rug had been pulled out from under my world. My precious Pepper dog was dying. Within 15 minutes of entering the A-Plus Veterinary office in Sparks, Nevada, Dr. Patti McCormack began a biopsy. Tissue was removed and sent off for a report.

The days of waiting were the hardest. I immediately started researching Canine Lymphoma, a fairly common disease I discovered. I cried as I watched him and waited. His cancer grew. As if angry at being distrubed, the nodes grew daily, and in just a few days were the size of walnuts. His bark was even afftected; the swelling was closing his throat. When the report arrived, it was not definitive. We still didn't know for sure!

January 18th, we had been referred to the Sacramento Animal Medical Group, specifically to Steve Crow, D.V.M., a veterinary oncologist. Dr. Crow is well recognized in his field, and we were fortunate to have found him. Another biopsy confirmed our fears. Stage III-A involvement. Dr. Crow didn't sugarcoat anything. The treatment would be reasonable and humane. The alternatives were explained and offered to us. One, to keep Pepper comfortable, and let nature take its course (expected survival time four to eight weeks). Two, to treat Pepper using combination and single-agent chemotherapy drugs (expected survival time of 24 months, with an average of 12 months). Only one out of four dogs will live longer than two years. There really wasn't any decision to make.

Pepper showed no other signs of the disease. He was in top physical condition as a toned athlete. Looking back though, we think he had slowed down a little on the agility courses last summer. But we weren't sure whether we were just comparing him to Gats-B, one of our other dogs, who is very fast, or if he was really in fact getting slower. No other signs were evident to us. Dr. Crow assured us that dogs did better with chemotherapy than people. A monoclonal antibody sensitivity test was done, too, and the nine-week chemotherapy protocol was started.

We chose the most aggressive protocol treatment available. It is referred to as "POLCA," an acronym for the names of the drugs used. There was never any doubt that we would treat Pepper for this incurable disease. Thank God, I have a wonderful husband, Greg, my best friend, my support staff, my partner. Greg is as immersed with our dogs as I. Thank God, too, the money would be there.

Pepper had his first chemotherapy treatment on January 18, 1999, in Sacramento California. Five days later, he competed in a national agility trial in Santa Rosa, California. Pepper and I are never nervous before a run. We love to work together. And whether we do well or not, we always have fun. You might wonder why I would even compete with him while he is sick. Well, to take agility away from him would be too cruel. He absolutely loves it. His physical and mental health are both very important. Positive attitude and exercise are part of the treatment in my book.

I cry in the shower these days so Pepper won't know. He is very sensitive to my crying. I was nervous that day and when we came out of the ring after his first run, I burst into tears. We had just finished Pepper's Outstanding Open Agility Title with a first place, a perfect clean run. He also finished his Superior Open Jumper's Title that day, also with a first place, again a perfect clean run. Out of the eight runs that weekend, he qualified and placed six times in the 16" class. His course times were about 15 seconds slower than usual, though. We just took it easy, wanting to have fun and finish.

To date, the chemotherapy treatments have been an emotional roller coaster ride. Driving once a week to Sacramento in the bad weather. Blood tests, some good, some not so good. Emergency trips to see Dr. McCormack. Long days and nights with no sleep. At one point when he was so sick from the drugs, I thought maybe we had made the wrong choice. He had a very adverse reaction to one of the drugs. A change in his protocol, however, was made. He will never have that drug again. On the plus side, there is available a special nutritional support (dog food). N/D recently developed by Hills for cancer patients, to help nourish their bodies and fight the metabolic abnormalities. Some dogs suffer from a condition known as anorecia-cachexia syndrome (a wasting condition). The formula, key ingredients containing omega-3 fatty acids and amino acid arginine, is high in protein and low in carbohydrates, thus theoretically starving the tumors.

Canine Lymphoma is an incurable disease, however, treatment can result in a good-to-excellent quality of life for most affected dogs. Please, if you don't already, check your dog regularly for lumps and bumps; include the neck and armpit areas. The sooner Lymphoma is discovered, the better the prognosis. Should your dog be diagnosed with Lymphoma, contact the Sacramento Animal Medical Group in Sacramento, California and the Morris Animal Foundation in Colorado. Both are very helpful and will send you information.

What is our life like now, you ask? It has its highs and lows. I can find myself in tears at the drop of a hat with no warning. Just driving down the road, tears can come when I least expect them. When I am too tired, they come. But there are the really good days. When we share very special moments playing together and training. I know in my heart that these times will be few now and never will come our way again. Every agility run is a gift I cherish. I watch with a smile on my face as Pepper plays with our new puppy "Tag." Tag (yes, another Sheltie) joined our family three weeks before we knew that Pepper was ill. I believe that he was sent to us for a reason. As I watch them interact, I know that Pepper has a big job to do teaching Tag, as he did Gats-B, before he leaves us. I need to be strong for him.

The downside...FEAR of the unknown, the end. The diarrhea, the vomiting, the cleaning up. The lying on the floor with a sick dog. But, there is a bright side too. More time together. I'm not ready to let him go yet. Bright eyes, a wagging tail, the happy barking, an empty toy box with toys everywhere. A burst of energy and high spirits. Watching him sleep in the sun and roll in the grass. His cold wet nose, his looking at me with his food dish in his mouth, his chasing birds in the yard. Always a loving heart and hope...always hope.

Did we make the right decision? For us, YES! Every moment is a memory. How much time do we have? Not enough, for sure. The additional time we have together goes far beyond the cost of treatment. Be it a day, a week, a month, or a year. We want five years...at least. Will we know when it's time to let him go? Yes. He'll tell us. And we'll ask him to go ahead without us.

Hug your dogs. Be kind to them. They are with us for such a short time. We accept the pain because our lives would be so dark without them. Please remember Pepper in your prayers. I hope you get a chance to meet him.

One thing I would like everyone to know and to please keep in mind, most dogs will adjust to chemotherapy better than Pepper has. He has been very sensitive to the drugs and his reactions have been very dramatic. Most dogs have only slight reactions. The quality of their lives is good until the very end. I have been assured that Pepper will feel no pain when that time comes.

Update: On 11/15/99 Pepper passed away. He was at home, with his beloved family and went peacefuly. He will be terribly missed. - Donna D'Amico

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