Help Diggery Dog Beat Lymphoma!
Donativo protegido
I don’t even know how to begin this post. First, thank you to all of our friends and loved ones who have prayed, sympathized and listened while Kevin and I spent the last year fighting for our dear, beloved Diggery. I can’t tell you how much of a relief it was to never be met with judgment as Kevin and I went to great lengths for this furry companion that saved our lives. Thank you.
Diggery passed away a week ago on Monday, 4 December 2017. Despite the remarkable and unlikely success we had treating his cancer, another disease came to steal him away from us. He was diagnosed with IMHA: Immune-Mediated Hemolytic Anemia. While it is treatable with what the veterinarians called a “guarded” prognosis, the mortality rate is high—around 30%--in the first month of treatment. From the day he was diagnosed, Diggery survived only another week. His body was just not able to overcome the damaging activities of his confused immune system. During the turmoil of the last four years in which we’d seen Diggery paralyzed, subjected to state-of-the-art surgeries, and receiving the latest protocols in canine chemotherapy, we’ve had plenty of time to reflect on the fact that we would one day lose our best friend, therapist, and counsellor. While we are incredibly disappointed and still grieving, we take great comfort that our prayers for his inevitable passing were answered: He spent the last four days of his life in our home, in our arms, being hand fed and pampered by us. While he was weak and tired, he was not likely in any pain, and it was very clear to us that the time had come when we had to make the decision to curtail his suffering with euthanasia. He was gone long before our vet, Adam, finished the injection, signalling to us that he was just barely holding on. His last moments where spent wrapped in a luxurious blanket from home, and with both Kevin and I touching him and looking into his eyes, telling him that he was, and is, a very good boy.
Kevin and I are Christians. For this reason, Kevin and I hold onto the hope that our sweet Diggery will be made new, having shuffled off the mortal coil that ever caused him confusion or pain. We’ll know him in ways we could never have known him here, and we knew him so, so well. You’ve heard it so many times, but please hear it again…this is what Diggery was like:
Diggery was selfless, loyal, gentle, and kind. He never met an enemy. Everyone was his friend. Nothing could stop him. No dog intimidated him; if they were aggressive, it was simply because they just hadn’t yet figured out that Diggery wanted to play (at least, this is what we speculated was going on in Diggery’s mind). One of my favourite photos of him was sent to us by doggy day care. It shows Diggery, crouched in his most playful poise, and howling, at a bewildered Great Dane whom he had cornered. He came on strong, and sometimes even the largest dogs would get positively overwhelmed by his zest for life.
Diggery was a foster failure who burst into the life of a depressed and suicidal man and insisted that he play too. Kevin’s life had little brightness to it when he adopted Diggery, but Diggery refused to be dampened by the difficulties of Kevin’s existence. He insisted on being bright and cheery, and he forced Kevin to bask in his glow by stealing Kevin’s clothes while he showered, leading Kevin on chases through the woods, and wrestling with anything—even an armchair if the occasion demanded.
Despite the stubbornness, scheming, and antics, Diggery’s rollicking behaviour could switch off at a moment when he sensed sadness. He had an intuitive understanding of our needs, and you’ll never meet a more sensitive, gentle, and affectionate dog. He would suffer being held for hours, kiss away our tears, and press his little body against us in his own special way of embracing. Even in what turned out to be the weakness that would take his life, he wanted to be near us, sitting at our sides, and slowly and shakily following us from room to room. Most dogs retreat when they sense the end is near and find someplace quiet to spend their final moments. Diggery did no such thing. He stayed with us, close by, sleeping between us, sitting at our sides, or laying at our feet. I’m not sure if he did this for our sake or his; given his service to us, it would not be unthinkable that he could sense our sadness at his sickness and knew he could help us by being close. I hope, though, that it meant just as much to him as it did to us. I think it did. I think he knew that we would do anything for him.
It is difficult to communicate the nobility of a creature that you can’t quote or describe faithfully in anthropocentric terms. In so far as you know us, you’ll just have to trust that there was so much to Diggery. He was a person that we knew. We learned how to read his expressions and movements. We could sense when he was deliberating, and over our twelve years together, we learned his preferences and tendencies better than any science could. He was not us, but he was part of us, and our union with him was a familial one. We became extensions of each other, and living without him now is like living without a hand. His accomplishments are legion: He saved Kevin’s life; he helped us love when fear and shame were crippling; he taught us so much about love simply by being so pure, vulnerable, and trusting. We didn’t deserve him, and we’ll miss him. He was, and is, quite simply the best dog and, in his doggy way, the best person I’ll ever know. We are forever changed by him, and we’ll always be incomplete until we see him again. So, we say goodbye to Diggery for now, and we are grateful for the opportunity to extend the reach his life through our own. What a gift it is to be loved and, in return, to learn to love. Diggery gave us this gift as no other has, and as no other will.
___
While we have incurred further expenses since our last post, we feel strange continuing our GoFundMe now that Diggery has passed. We are incredibly grateful to everyone who helped us get this far, and we while we did not get as much time with Diggery as we had hoped, we hope you know that your donations did defeat Diggery's cancer and give us many pain-free, fun-loving months with Diggery that we could not have otherwise enjoyed. We are incredibly grateful for our Go Fund Me family. Thank you for helping us, even in the midst of all of the uncertainty. You profoundly and deeply touched our lives and helped a very precious friend, our Diggery.
Our Story
Help a faithful, selfless service dog beat lymphoma and live a full life! #DonatetoDiggeryDog
My name is Stephanie*, and the cutie you see in the above photo is Diggery. Diggery is a very special dog. My husband, Kevin, began fostering Diggery in 2005 when his psychologist suggested a dog might help him recover from his diagnosis of PTSD and severe depression. Ever since then, Diggery has taken care of us.
Diggery playing the role of wingman while Kevin and I are dating.
Diggery looking dapper in his winter coat in 2007.
Kevin actually didn't mean to adopt Diggery. He contacted the local rescue to request to foster a different beagle when the leader of the rescue told Kevin that "we have another dog who would very good for a young man." When Kevin* first began fostering Diggery, we wondered if Diggery might have a history of abuse. He was terrified of loud noises and suffered extreme separation anxiety whenever Kevin left the apartment. The rescue thought Diggery was perhaps a hunting dog that was rejected by his owner because he is afraid of loud noises, isn't aggressive, and doesn't howl enough--all traits that make for an unsuitable hunting companion. It turns out Beagle-Jack Russell crosses are frequently bred for squirrel hunting in the part of the US where we were living at the time, so it seems very likely he was dumped by his owner, precipitating Diggery being found wandering the streets by Kevin's local rescue.
Kevin's Battle and Diggery's Healing Help
This created an unlikely bond between Kevin and Diggery: My husband was "dumped" too, so they had a lot in common. Kevin came from an extremely abusive home where he suffered physical, emotional, and sexual abuse as a child. As a teenager he broke ties with his family at the recommendation of a psychiatrist, and he was left to cope with the effects of the abuse on his own as he struggled to work himself through school. These included battles with suicide, nightmares, paranoia, self-harm, sensory sensitivity, anxiety, panic attacks, flashbacks, the inability to concentrate, sleeping problems, and physical problems like nausea, dizziness, chest pains, and a supressed immune system. PTSD has high comorbidity with other illness as well. Diggery and Kevin turned out to be perfect companions. Kevin was extremely gentle and sensitive, and he needed a friend to be around him all the time--just what Diggery needed. Loud noises and other extreme sensory experiences triggered Kevin's PTSD, so Diggery and Kevin comforted each other when they needed to recover from the sound of a passing train, blasting radio, or nearby carhorn. He helped Kevin sleep at night, and gave Kevin something to live for.
Diggery letting Kevin know that he insists on joining Kevin on any travels.
Soon Diggery began to help Kevin in other ways. Diggery is a very smart pup, and he would cleverly find opportunities to get into mischief. One of his favorite activities as a young dog was to steal Kevin's clothes when he was in the shower and hide them around the house, initiating Diggery's all-time favorite game of chase!
The face of mischief! Diggery on a playdate at a friend's house.
Diggery enjoying a cat toy (don't tell anyone!) in November at my parent's house, a month prior to his recent diagnosis.
As Kevin battled depression and suicidal thoughts, Diggery was there to provide sunshine and laughter. Diggery even helped Kevin at trips to the dog park, where Diggery's antics precipitated comments and laughter from other dog owners, providing Kevin much needed friendships. Diggery helped protect Kevin from dangerous isolation. Eventually, Kevin and Diggery became "foster failures," as Kevin couldn't tolerate the idea of ever parting with his best friend and adopted him.
Diggery at our wedding.
After I married Kevin, Diggery adopted me, too. I have also been diagnosed with PTSD and depression due to trauma, and Diggery somehow knows when the dark clouds are descending, and never fails to come and provide much needed support with kisses, nuzzles, and companionship. Diggery excelled so much that we eventually began training him a service dog, teaching him specific therepeutic tasks to perform when needed and helping him meet the standards of the canine good citizen test. Diggery made it such that Kevin could tolerate loud and busy environments that would otherwise be inaccessible to him given his PTSD, and he helped Kevin recover from episodes of extreme stimulation that would usually force him to return home for the rest of the day to recover. As many who have service dogs for similar disabilities can testify, the support and calming tasks of a canine can trigger emotional and physiological recovery from environments that make victims of PTSD feel unsafe, threatened, and otherwise uncomfortable. They can also mitigate the "fight or flight" response than can become involuntarily triggered by (for example) a cafe suddenly blasting loud music, or the passing of a car playing very loud bass.
Diggery's Fight: Lymphoma
There is no doubt in my mind that my husband is alive because Diggery was there to help him during the darkest periods of his depression, and we owe him so much for what he has done for our family. Unfortunately, after a long period of grueling tests and treatments, we recently discovered Diggery has lymphoma in his liver, spleen, and possibly near his brain stem.
Kevin first finds out about Diggery's brain lesion at Oklahoma State's veterinary hospital.
Our discharge information from the first visit following the discovery of lesions in Diggery's brain.
Diggery and Kevin nap as we pack for our move to Scotland.
Diggery's quality of life has been of utmost importance for us; we don't want him to suffer even though we will miss him terribly whenever it is time for him to leave this world. However, our excellent veterinarians at the Royal (Dick) School of Veterinary Studies assure us that Diggery could still have years left in him that he can enjoy, as treatment for canine lymphoma would not be disruptive or painful to him. While we cannot be certain he will recover if treated, there is a good chance he will and live a longer, happy and fulfilled life if we continue his treatment. The life expectancy for his breed is 15-16 years, so he could possibly live another 3 years if treatment is successful. Given all that Diggery has done for us and the way he has saved our lives, we feel that we owe him a chance at recovery so long as he does not suffer along the way.
Diggery feeling great (and hangry!) after a treatment of prednisone.
Diggery enjoying his first outing in Scotland after successful treatment.
Feeling good!
Diggery snuggling with his sister, Lucy.
Our Need: The Cost of Treatment
We have seen God's hand as he has connected us to expert care along the way, whether at the Oklahoma State Center for Veterinary Health Sciences, Mission Veterinary Specialist in San Antonio, TX, or now the Royal Dick School of Veterinary Studies. However, treatment is expensive. In the UK (where we recently moved to continue our education at the University of St Andrews), pet health insurance is common unlike in the States. However, Diggery does not qualify for health insurance given that he was diagnosed with his condition prior our move to the UK. Additionally, we have looked into charities that provide financial assistance to sick pets. Diggery's age and uncertain prognosis disqualifies him from these sources of help as well.
The fee estimate for Diggery's first MRI, spinal tap, and round of chemotherapy. (Actual bill will be posted shortly.)
Recent itemized invoice showing £3225.34 charge.
Itemized bills from his treatment in Scotland thus far. We have paid approximately £4500 so far. We estimate that his continued treatment will ultimately cost us between £8,900 and £14,000, depending on whether or not he needs radiation therapy. As we are still full-time students who can only work part-time, it is very difficult for us to afford specialized veterinary care of this nature.
It was very difficult for Kevin and I to reach out for help through GoFundMe. Diggery is our responsibility, and there are so many good causes in the world to give to--we felt selfish adding ours to the list. However, we've been moved by how many people doing small things can get big things done. Giving up a coffee one afternoon may only free up a few pounds/dollars, but it will get us one step closer to being able to give back to a pup who has given us everything. We are hitting a financial wall where we will soon be unable to provide treatment for our beloved friend. For this reason, we are reaching out to anyone who might feel able to help. We would be extremely grateful if you could help us provide Diggery the love and care he so very much deserves from the wonderful team of clinicians at RDSVS.
How You Can Help
In the next few days, I will be posting medical bills, videos, and updates about Diggery so that you can see his progress. In the meantime we would be grateful if you would give towards Diggery's treatment, share this page widely and help us fund Diggery's healthcare. 100% of what is given will go towards the costs of Diggery's care; anything above this will be returned to donors or donated to a relevant charity like the American Veterinary Care Charitable Fund. Please feel free to ask any questions or get in touch!
*Last name withheld from the website in order to protect Kevin given his family background. Feel free to reach out to me through Go Fund Me if you'd like further information about us or to verify any details from this page.
#DonatetoDiggeryDog !
Diggery passed away a week ago on Monday, 4 December 2017. Despite the remarkable and unlikely success we had treating his cancer, another disease came to steal him away from us. He was diagnosed with IMHA: Immune-Mediated Hemolytic Anemia. While it is treatable with what the veterinarians called a “guarded” prognosis, the mortality rate is high—around 30%--in the first month of treatment. From the day he was diagnosed, Diggery survived only another week. His body was just not able to overcome the damaging activities of his confused immune system. During the turmoil of the last four years in which we’d seen Diggery paralyzed, subjected to state-of-the-art surgeries, and receiving the latest protocols in canine chemotherapy, we’ve had plenty of time to reflect on the fact that we would one day lose our best friend, therapist, and counsellor. While we are incredibly disappointed and still grieving, we take great comfort that our prayers for his inevitable passing were answered: He spent the last four days of his life in our home, in our arms, being hand fed and pampered by us. While he was weak and tired, he was not likely in any pain, and it was very clear to us that the time had come when we had to make the decision to curtail his suffering with euthanasia. He was gone long before our vet, Adam, finished the injection, signalling to us that he was just barely holding on. His last moments where spent wrapped in a luxurious blanket from home, and with both Kevin and I touching him and looking into his eyes, telling him that he was, and is, a very good boy.
Kevin and I are Christians. For this reason, Kevin and I hold onto the hope that our sweet Diggery will be made new, having shuffled off the mortal coil that ever caused him confusion or pain. We’ll know him in ways we could never have known him here, and we knew him so, so well. You’ve heard it so many times, but please hear it again…this is what Diggery was like:
Diggery was selfless, loyal, gentle, and kind. He never met an enemy. Everyone was his friend. Nothing could stop him. No dog intimidated him; if they were aggressive, it was simply because they just hadn’t yet figured out that Diggery wanted to play (at least, this is what we speculated was going on in Diggery’s mind). One of my favourite photos of him was sent to us by doggy day care. It shows Diggery, crouched in his most playful poise, and howling, at a bewildered Great Dane whom he had cornered. He came on strong, and sometimes even the largest dogs would get positively overwhelmed by his zest for life.
Diggery was a foster failure who burst into the life of a depressed and suicidal man and insisted that he play too. Kevin’s life had little brightness to it when he adopted Diggery, but Diggery refused to be dampened by the difficulties of Kevin’s existence. He insisted on being bright and cheery, and he forced Kevin to bask in his glow by stealing Kevin’s clothes while he showered, leading Kevin on chases through the woods, and wrestling with anything—even an armchair if the occasion demanded.
Despite the stubbornness, scheming, and antics, Diggery’s rollicking behaviour could switch off at a moment when he sensed sadness. He had an intuitive understanding of our needs, and you’ll never meet a more sensitive, gentle, and affectionate dog. He would suffer being held for hours, kiss away our tears, and press his little body against us in his own special way of embracing. Even in what turned out to be the weakness that would take his life, he wanted to be near us, sitting at our sides, and slowly and shakily following us from room to room. Most dogs retreat when they sense the end is near and find someplace quiet to spend their final moments. Diggery did no such thing. He stayed with us, close by, sleeping between us, sitting at our sides, or laying at our feet. I’m not sure if he did this for our sake or his; given his service to us, it would not be unthinkable that he could sense our sadness at his sickness and knew he could help us by being close. I hope, though, that it meant just as much to him as it did to us. I think it did. I think he knew that we would do anything for him.
It is difficult to communicate the nobility of a creature that you can’t quote or describe faithfully in anthropocentric terms. In so far as you know us, you’ll just have to trust that there was so much to Diggery. He was a person that we knew. We learned how to read his expressions and movements. We could sense when he was deliberating, and over our twelve years together, we learned his preferences and tendencies better than any science could. He was not us, but he was part of us, and our union with him was a familial one. We became extensions of each other, and living without him now is like living without a hand. His accomplishments are legion: He saved Kevin’s life; he helped us love when fear and shame were crippling; he taught us so much about love simply by being so pure, vulnerable, and trusting. We didn’t deserve him, and we’ll miss him. He was, and is, quite simply the best dog and, in his doggy way, the best person I’ll ever know. We are forever changed by him, and we’ll always be incomplete until we see him again. So, we say goodbye to Diggery for now, and we are grateful for the opportunity to extend the reach his life through our own. What a gift it is to be loved and, in return, to learn to love. Diggery gave us this gift as no other has, and as no other will.
___
While we have incurred further expenses since our last post, we feel strange continuing our GoFundMe now that Diggery has passed. We are incredibly grateful to everyone who helped us get this far, and we while we did not get as much time with Diggery as we had hoped, we hope you know that your donations did defeat Diggery's cancer and give us many pain-free, fun-loving months with Diggery that we could not have otherwise enjoyed. We are incredibly grateful for our Go Fund Me family. Thank you for helping us, even in the midst of all of the uncertainty. You profoundly and deeply touched our lives and helped a very precious friend, our Diggery.
Our Story
Help a faithful, selfless service dog beat lymphoma and live a full life! #DonatetoDiggeryDog
My name is Stephanie*, and the cutie you see in the above photo is Diggery. Diggery is a very special dog. My husband, Kevin, began fostering Diggery in 2005 when his psychologist suggested a dog might help him recover from his diagnosis of PTSD and severe depression. Ever since then, Diggery has taken care of us.
Diggery playing the role of wingman while Kevin and I are dating.Diggery looking dapper in his winter coat in 2007.Kevin actually didn't mean to adopt Diggery. He contacted the local rescue to request to foster a different beagle when the leader of the rescue told Kevin that "we have another dog who would very good for a young man." When Kevin* first began fostering Diggery, we wondered if Diggery might have a history of abuse. He was terrified of loud noises and suffered extreme separation anxiety whenever Kevin left the apartment. The rescue thought Diggery was perhaps a hunting dog that was rejected by his owner because he is afraid of loud noises, isn't aggressive, and doesn't howl enough--all traits that make for an unsuitable hunting companion. It turns out Beagle-Jack Russell crosses are frequently bred for squirrel hunting in the part of the US where we were living at the time, so it seems very likely he was dumped by his owner, precipitating Diggery being found wandering the streets by Kevin's local rescue.
Kevin's Battle and Diggery's Healing Help
This created an unlikely bond between Kevin and Diggery: My husband was "dumped" too, so they had a lot in common. Kevin came from an extremely abusive home where he suffered physical, emotional, and sexual abuse as a child. As a teenager he broke ties with his family at the recommendation of a psychiatrist, and he was left to cope with the effects of the abuse on his own as he struggled to work himself through school. These included battles with suicide, nightmares, paranoia, self-harm, sensory sensitivity, anxiety, panic attacks, flashbacks, the inability to concentrate, sleeping problems, and physical problems like nausea, dizziness, chest pains, and a supressed immune system. PTSD has high comorbidity with other illness as well. Diggery and Kevin turned out to be perfect companions. Kevin was extremely gentle and sensitive, and he needed a friend to be around him all the time--just what Diggery needed. Loud noises and other extreme sensory experiences triggered Kevin's PTSD, so Diggery and Kevin comforted each other when they needed to recover from the sound of a passing train, blasting radio, or nearby carhorn. He helped Kevin sleep at night, and gave Kevin something to live for.
Diggery letting Kevin know that he insists on joining Kevin on any travels.Soon Diggery began to help Kevin in other ways. Diggery is a very smart pup, and he would cleverly find opportunities to get into mischief. One of his favorite activities as a young dog was to steal Kevin's clothes when he was in the shower and hide them around the house, initiating Diggery's all-time favorite game of chase!
The face of mischief! Diggery on a playdate at a friend's house.Diggery enjoying a cat toy (don't tell anyone!) in November at my parent's house, a month prior to his recent diagnosis.
As Kevin battled depression and suicidal thoughts, Diggery was there to provide sunshine and laughter. Diggery even helped Kevin at trips to the dog park, where Diggery's antics precipitated comments and laughter from other dog owners, providing Kevin much needed friendships. Diggery helped protect Kevin from dangerous isolation. Eventually, Kevin and Diggery became "foster failures," as Kevin couldn't tolerate the idea of ever parting with his best friend and adopted him.
Diggery at our wedding.After I married Kevin, Diggery adopted me, too. I have also been diagnosed with PTSD and depression due to trauma, and Diggery somehow knows when the dark clouds are descending, and never fails to come and provide much needed support with kisses, nuzzles, and companionship. Diggery excelled so much that we eventually began training him a service dog, teaching him specific therepeutic tasks to perform when needed and helping him meet the standards of the canine good citizen test. Diggery made it such that Kevin could tolerate loud and busy environments that would otherwise be inaccessible to him given his PTSD, and he helped Kevin recover from episodes of extreme stimulation that would usually force him to return home for the rest of the day to recover. As many who have service dogs for similar disabilities can testify, the support and calming tasks of a canine can trigger emotional and physiological recovery from environments that make victims of PTSD feel unsafe, threatened, and otherwise uncomfortable. They can also mitigate the "fight or flight" response than can become involuntarily triggered by (for example) a cafe suddenly blasting loud music, or the passing of a car playing very loud bass.
Diggery's Fight: Lymphoma
There is no doubt in my mind that my husband is alive because Diggery was there to help him during the darkest periods of his depression, and we owe him so much for what he has done for our family. Unfortunately, after a long period of grueling tests and treatments, we recently discovered Diggery has lymphoma in his liver, spleen, and possibly near his brain stem.
Kevin first finds out about Diggery's brain lesion at Oklahoma State's veterinary hospital.Our discharge information from the first visit following the discovery of lesions in Diggery's brain.Diggery and Kevin nap as we pack for our move to Scotland.Diggery's quality of life has been of utmost importance for us; we don't want him to suffer even though we will miss him terribly whenever it is time for him to leave this world. However, our excellent veterinarians at the Royal (Dick) School of Veterinary Studies assure us that Diggery could still have years left in him that he can enjoy, as treatment for canine lymphoma would not be disruptive or painful to him. While we cannot be certain he will recover if treated, there is a good chance he will and live a longer, happy and fulfilled life if we continue his treatment. The life expectancy for his breed is 15-16 years, so he could possibly live another 3 years if treatment is successful. Given all that Diggery has done for us and the way he has saved our lives, we feel that we owe him a chance at recovery so long as he does not suffer along the way.
Diggery feeling great (and hangry!) after a treatment of prednisone.
Diggery enjoying his first outing in Scotland after successful treatment.
Feeling good!
Diggery snuggling with his sister, Lucy.Our Need: The Cost of Treatment
We have seen God's hand as he has connected us to expert care along the way, whether at the Oklahoma State Center for Veterinary Health Sciences, Mission Veterinary Specialist in San Antonio, TX, or now the Royal Dick School of Veterinary Studies. However, treatment is expensive. In the UK (where we recently moved to continue our education at the University of St Andrews), pet health insurance is common unlike in the States. However, Diggery does not qualify for health insurance given that he was diagnosed with his condition prior our move to the UK. Additionally, we have looked into charities that provide financial assistance to sick pets. Diggery's age and uncertain prognosis disqualifies him from these sources of help as well.
The fee estimate for Diggery's first MRI, spinal tap, and round of chemotherapy. (Actual bill will be posted shortly.)Recent itemized invoice showing £3225.34 charge.Itemized bills from his treatment in Scotland thus far. We have paid approximately £4500 so far. We estimate that his continued treatment will ultimately cost us between £8,900 and £14,000, depending on whether or not he needs radiation therapy. As we are still full-time students who can only work part-time, it is very difficult for us to afford specialized veterinary care of this nature.
It was very difficult for Kevin and I to reach out for help through GoFundMe. Diggery is our responsibility, and there are so many good causes in the world to give to--we felt selfish adding ours to the list. However, we've been moved by how many people doing small things can get big things done. Giving up a coffee one afternoon may only free up a few pounds/dollars, but it will get us one step closer to being able to give back to a pup who has given us everything. We are hitting a financial wall where we will soon be unable to provide treatment for our beloved friend. For this reason, we are reaching out to anyone who might feel able to help. We would be extremely grateful if you could help us provide Diggery the love and care he so very much deserves from the wonderful team of clinicians at RDSVS.
How You Can Help
In the next few days, I will be posting medical bills, videos, and updates about Diggery so that you can see his progress. In the meantime we would be grateful if you would give towards Diggery's treatment, share this page widely and help us fund Diggery's healthcare. 100% of what is given will go towards the costs of Diggery's care; anything above this will be returned to donors or donated to a relevant charity like the American Veterinary Care Charitable Fund. Please feel free to ask any questions or get in touch!
*Last name withheld from the website in order to protect Kevin given his family background. Feel free to reach out to me through Go Fund Me if you'd like further information about us or to verify any details from this page.
#DonatetoDiggeryDog !
Organizador
Stephanie Nicole
Organizador
