The Story, in a Nutshell

Back in spring, Kathy and I took Oz to the vet's for a check up. She had fully healed from her leg surgery, and charmed everyone at the vet's. She actually gets announced. I open the door, and one or more of the women behind the counter puts on this deep/fake bass voice and pronounces "It's OZ-MA," except with a long "o." Then they all applaud, and my puppy takes her proper place in a circle of petting. And I'm choking up now.

Anyway, the vet visit went well except that Kim (the vet) noticed that Oz had lost a tooth. We were properly mortified. Had we given her too much hard food? Indulged her bone fondness too much? But we got no answers, and, except for watching her once we got her home, mostly forgot it.

Over the next few weeks, that gum started looking a bit larger, just a little. Kind of swollen, but not crazy. We thought, hmm. Maybe she's chewing on the spot where the tooth used to be, yes?No. Time passed, and the gum kept swelling. Finally, in late May, I took Oz in to the vet. Kim took one look and said, "Oh, now that does not look good." She kept telling Oz how wonderful she was, and petting, and so on, while getting a tissue sample and sketching out the possibilities. Basically, they reduced to a) something unknown, b) abscess, or c) cancer.

If cancer, there were three types that were most likely: a) one they have a vaccine for, b) one that grows slowly, and c) one that grows at lightning speed and is always deadly.

When the news came back, the results were c) and c): Oz had an osteosarcoma in the left jawbone. Average prognosis: 1-3 months of life after diagnosis.

We got four months. Oz had a golden summer, and didn't always know why she was getting so many treats. She didn't fall into a bad way until the final month, and even then, things only got really bad at the very end. They did get bad, though, and tiring.

We had some hopes along the way, and I'll say more about those, but mostly, life got really unfair for our puppy and to our puppy.

Sigh.

Greg