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This
is the story of my beloved Rottweiler
Oso, who was diagnosed with
osteosarcoma in January, 2005.
We got Oso in April, 1996 when
he was three and a half weeks old.
When I went to the breeder to
look at puppies, I observed that the
kennel was not kept clean.
I decided to take Oso with me
right then.
I got him for a good price
because he had a tiny white spot on
his chest.
It
had taken a couple of years to
convince my husband to get a big dog
like a Rottweiler, but he agreed, as
long as I took full responsibility.
A couple of weeks after I got
my Rottweiler, whom we named Oso
because he looked like a little bear,
he came down with a very bad case of
diarrhea.
I ended up having to take him
to the emergency vet and was told that
he had a stomach problem that would
remain with him the rest of his life.
I had already grown attached to
him and did not want to return him to
the breeder.
We had to be careful with his
diet for the rest of his life.
My
husband and I took him to two puppy
training classes at the local pet
store and, later, to a private trainer
specializing in Rottweilers, who kept
him for a week while we were out of
town.
This guy was great, and he told
us that Oso had a wonderful
disposition.
My husband and I used to kid
that Oso had been to college. Oso was a great companion and a very protective dog.
He was gentle and tolerant.
Even my husband who had not
wanted a big dog became attached to
him.
Sometime
in November or December of 2004, Oso
was having a hard time getting up.
Since our floors were vinyl,
and he was big and heavy, it did not
occur to us that something might be
wrong with him.
Looking back, I had noticed
that when we were outside, he would
lie down more often than usual, but at
the time I did not pay too much
attention.
In early January, Oso started
limping, but we thought he might have
been bitten while playing with our German
Shepherd pup.
Later in January, we took our
shepherd and Oso for a walk and
observed that his limping had gotten
worse.
Oso wanted to keep on going,
but it was so hard for him that we had
to bring him back after walking only
three houses from home.
Shortly
thereafter, we took him to the vet and
learned that he had a deadly cancer of
the bone in his leg called
osteosarcoma.
That shocking news was so hard
to accept.
The vet gave us some medication
for Oso and a referral to the Animal
Clinic of the Veterinary School of
Texas A&M University in College
Station if we desired further
treatment.
We chose to make an appointment
and, when we got there, were greeted
by the vet and a graduate student.
We left Oso there all day.
When we returned to pick him
up, the vet confirmed our local
vet’s diagnosis that Oso did indeed
have osteosarcoma.
She offered three choices for
treatment:
radiation, amputation, and
amputation followed by chemotherapy.
Each of
these would possibly allow Oso
to live a little longer, but none was
a cure.
After
taking Oso home, my husband and I
talked it over and decided to amputate
the leg, because I was not ready to
let him go.
We made an appointment at
A&M for the surgery, and they
promised to rehabilitate him to walk
on three legs before returning him to
us.
We brought Oso in for the
surgery on February 16, 2005 and
received a call the next day to pick
him up.
We were told that they could
not rehabilitate him because he had
lashed out at the graduate student and
that everyone was scared of him.
It turns out that the graduate
student had neglected to muzzle him.
The surgery was successful, but
we were extremely disappointed with
the A&M Animal Clinic, which we
had been told was one of the best in
the country.
After
the amputation, at first Oso had a
hard time adjusting, but gradually got
better.
He fell a few times, but his
spirits were okay.
In July, he gradually began to
slow down, and by August he completely
lost interest in his dog food.
I got worried and took him to
our local vet, who took x-rays of his
chest, informed us that the cancer had
spread to his lungs, and stated that
Oso had only a few weeks to live.
I still did not want to put him
down.
The vet prescribed some
medication for fluid in his lungs, and
I checked the internet for any type of
remedy for him.
Three weeks later, he got
worse.
I bought a harness for him, as
you can see in the picture.
He could no longer go out on
his own.
He stopped eating whatever I
tried to feed
him, including canned dog food,
cat food, boiled chicken, and turkey
cold cuts.
I could see that he was
slipping away.
It took me two more weeks to
make the most difficult decision to
put him down.
On
the afternoon of August 25, my husband
came home early from work, and we took
Oso to our vet.
I had given him some turkey
cold cuts for his last meal, and he
had eaten only a couple of slices.
I held Oso in my arms while the
vet administered the shot and heard
him
breathe his last breath.
He was gone. That was one of the saddest days of my life.
The vet’s technician helped
my husband and me to wrap him in a
beautiful cotton sheet with stars of
purple and other colors.
We buried him in the ravine
next to our house.
Oso
was the first dog that I had become
very attached to.
I still miss him a lot, but,
unfortunately, he was one of the
thousands to succumb to that terrible
disease. |