Category: Hinckley

I wish the adage “no news is good news” held true for our story.  I owe you an update, and I’ve tried to tell you since last weekend.  I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it. Hinckley’s battle against the odds has taken a turn.

As you all know, the first couple of weeks after his surgery, he showed dramatic improvements.  Hinckley began swimming with all four legs, regained bladder and bowel control, and has been in great spirits.  The doctors and rehab team were ecstatic.  It underscored what we already knew – he is special.

I, like so many others, just SO wanted to believe that Hinckley was going to become the miracle dog…the one that would be the mythic success story to share with other dog owners when something horrific happened to their pets.

Leading up to last Friday, Hinckley was the poster child for that story.

He was swimming like a fish and obviously felt great.  He even started doing his “Bo-Bo the Circus Bear” act and walking on his back legs in the shallow end of the pool to hunt for his sunken tennis balls.  His back paws no longer looked like a ballet dancer en pointe. There were pads hitting the pavement and in walking action when I helped support him. It was amazing.

It was subtle, but on Saturday I felt a cool shiver. The winds had changed.

That morning he jumped into the pool, went swimming and his back legs just hung. There was no more action.

It was as if his body listened to what the oncology doctors had told me earlier that week when we were there to explore beginning chemotherapy.

The baseline ultrasound, a test they do prior to beginning treatment, showed additional masses in his spleen.  These nodules likely helped to explain the origination of the type of cancer he had been diagnosed with:  hermangiosarcoma.

The name even sounds scary. And its behavior is more so.  Hermangiosarcoma is an extremely aggressive cancer in the blood cell lining.  Even with treatment, patients with it have less than a year. Typically more like 4 – 6 months. Even with treatment. 

Facing Reality

Given the prognosis, and the ultrasound results, we decided to forego any further measures.  It felt like we were trying to put a band-aid on the Grand Canyon.

Our treatment plan now focuses on keeping him happy, spoiling him like crazy, and our guiding principle will be his quality of life.  We decided we will cross that next bridge over the Grand Canyon when we come to it.  I had hoped beyond hope given his progress and his attitude, that turn was far off.

Sadly, I think the roadmap is quickly approaching the road to that bridge.

I hate cancer.