Dr. Demian Dressler - Dog Cancer Survival Guide

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No warranty whatsoever is made that a given dogs life expectancy or quality will increase as a result of the information available here. There is absolutely no assurance made of any outcome whatsoever. It is understood that cancer of the dog is frequently incurable, and the reader is reminded of this fact.

Some of the information presented here is experimental and has not been clinically shown to be safe or effective. Neither safety nor efficacy is stated or implied, directly or indirectly. You should consult with your veterinarian about any medical topic or care of your pet.

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Table of Contents

Introduction:

Max Wakes Me Up

Glenda was waiting for me in my exam room. Her dog, a 9 year old Golden Retriever named Max, was wagging his tail in spite of his limp. The stitches were still in his front leg from the bone biopsy ten days earlier.

Glenda looked at me with anxious eyes.

Hi Glenda. And how ya doing, Max? I scratched him on the rump.

I asked Glenda, How has he been doing since his biopsy?

Well, he has been taking his pills in hot dogs, but look at him. Hes still limping around, just like he has been for the last 2 weeks. I thought those big brown pills were going to help a little more than they did.

She was talking about the anti-inflammatory I had given her for Max's orthopedic (bone) pain. Sorry Glenda, I was hoping they were going to help a little more too.

I paused, and she looked over at me, her hands clasped tight in her lap.

Did you get the report? she asked, searching my face for a hint of what was to come. I took a deliberate breath in.

Yes, the biopsy report came in this morning. I felt myself tighten up.

As much as I didnt want to, I had to give her the news. The area of bone I showed you on the X-ray is not looking good. Its a cancer. The name of the cancer is osteosarcoma.

Glenda stared at me. She squinted in disbelief, and at the same time I could see the tears shining on the rim of her eyelids.

What? she softly asked.

Osteosarcoma. Max has bone cancer. I still didn't want to say it.

So you are saying my dog is going to die of cancer?

Well, we have different options. Its a little early to say how things will turn out, I answered, dodging the question. The real answer to Glendas question was complex, and I wasnt sure she was ready to start talking about survival statistics.

I thought you said this was an infection. You said it looked like an infection on the X-ray. Her eyes flashed. Sorry, Im having a hard time believing what youre telling me.

Well, infection was one of the possibilities we had discussed. The other main possibility was a cancer. They can look very similar on an X-ray, which is why we did the biopsy. Im really sorry. I wish the test results had come back differently.

The anger faded from her eyes, replaced by grief. Tears started spilling onto her cheeks. She cupped her face in her hands. Max came over and stood quietly by her side. He leaned his head against her thigh.

I offered her some tissues and put my hand on her shoulder. I knew the tissues didnt change anything, but I didnt know what else to do.

I gave her a minute to compose herself. She wiped her smeared eyeliner and looked up, sniffling. She balled up the moist tissues.

"What are the options? she said in a very small voice.

Here we go, I said to myself. This part of the conversation was going to be tough as well.

The treatment options are surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation, I started. I quickly went through the available treatments. Surgery would mean amputation. Yes, dogs can walk on three legs, but no, it likely will not cure the cancer in the end. Cancer has usually already spread through the body by the time it is diagnosed. Median survival is about 4-5 months.

Chemotherapy puts it at about 10 months, give or take. Radiation can take away the pain for about 1-2 months per treatment. As I gave her the numbers, I saw her face fall deeper into darkness.

When I was done, she said in a whisper, Is that all? That's it?

Yes, I confirmed. Those are the options we have. It had taken me about ninety seconds to go over everything available, at least what was available to a vet with over a decade of experience in conventional veterinary cancer care.

But, I mean she stammered. How did Max get this?

I began my standard cancer lecture. No one really knows exactly how cancer starts. Its a multifactorial disease, which means many things can increase the odds of it happening.

Is it his food?

Well, not really.

I have heard that vaccines can do it. What about toxins or something?

Should he be wearing sunscreen?

There was no one answer to Glendas question, but it was hard to explain that to her.

Well...not exactly. We don't know the actual cause of cancer.

Whoever can figure out the single cause of cancer will get a Nobel Prize. I trailed off, uncomfortable, because I knew that helping Glenda to understand and deal with Maxs cancer diagnosis could take hours. The next clients were waiting.

We both knew that I was avoiding her questions.

Glenda sighed and said she would call me the next day to discuss it further, after she had time to digest the bad news. I quickly took out Maxs biopsy sutures, dispensed a new pain medication, and showed Glenda out into the reception area.

The visit had taken over half an hour. I hurried to see the next patient and get on with my day.