I've had some bad news about my Blue dog. I took George to the vet for a follow-up visit to check on the effects of the steroids he's taking to fight the autoimmune skin disease (penthagus)that almost killed him. The news with George was pretty good, despite the fact that he's gained ten pounds in ninety days. I thought while we were there that I should bring Blue in to have her phenobarbitol level checked. While the vet was doing the thorough physical check she always does, she found a tumor.
I had already explained that I was going to be in New York next week, so I said I would cancel my trip, but she said we could postpone surgery for a week. The cancer could be one of two types, 1) slow growing, slow enough that Blue could die of old age long before the cancer could kill her, or 2) extremely fast growing, so bloody in surgery she might need transfusions. Luckily, there is a Greyhound Rescue in the area, and Greyhounds are "universal donors". I didn't want to postpone the surgery, but the vet assured me that it wouldn't make a difference. We put Blue on some chemotherapy that could slow the tumor growth for the week I'll be gone.
I guess it's a good thing I wanted Blue's phenobarbitol level checked. Whew!
The other concern is Blue is showing signs of a glandular change, or at least some glandular activity, so we've ordered a pregnancy check along with her other blood test. Blue's too old to have puppies - this is probably almost exactly her twelth birthday, although we've always celebrated her birthday on January 1st, like we do with the horses.
Gibby had visitors both yesterday and today. Cathy, who will take care of him next week, is going to be his new best friend. He loves to play and she enjoyed playing with him. I'm not going to worry about him at all.