Please Help Me Save My Best Friend, Jameson ❤️

Earlier this week, my sweet golden retriever, Jameson (aka Jamo, James, Buddy), was diagnosed with adenocarcinoma, and I feel like my entire world has been pulled out from under me. The pain of his diagnosis is deeper than anything I’ve ever known.

If you’ve ever met Jameson, you already know this: he is so much more than just a dog.

He has his own sweet, silly, unique, and incredible personality.

And to me, he is everything. He is my companion, my comfort, my joy, my best friend.

He is the sweet soul who has been there for me in ways that no words could ever capture.

Some of the things that I think make him so amazing…

He loves to swim until he’s exhausted and happy.

He loves to sing emotional songs (some of his favorites are Sam Smith & Miley Cyrus… and yes he is able to follow the tune).

He gives the sweetest hugs, snuggles, and lets me hold his hand.

He always knows exactly when it’s time for his breakfast and supper (or “suppy” as we call it).

He runs over to be burped after every meal – our little ritual.

He is the smartest dog I’ve ever met.

He chases lizards and bunnies with boundless joy… but never catches them.

He takes his daily sunbath like he understands the importance of getting his vitamin D.

He is always listening (and I swear he understands everything we are saying).

He even loves surfing and splashing in the waves at the beach.

He remembers every person he meets, and always gets so excited when he hears the names of all of his friends.

He prefers to be escorted by at least two humans on his walks, because he likes to always have his pack with him.

He gives me the judgiest looks when I disturb his naps or do something he thinks is weird.

He strenuously objects to any hugging that does not include him – pushing his way in and making sure he doesn’t miss out on any of the love.

He is always waiting by the door with a toy in his mouth and a wagging tail when somebody comes home.

He has loved me through every hard moment without any hesitation. He always knows exactly what I need. He is a constant source of pure, unconditional love. All he expects in return for all the love that he gives, is being loved in return.

Jameson is full of life—pure, unfiltered, beautiful life. The thought of losing him is one I simply cannot handle.

Before this diagnosis, Jameson was in perfect health. Even now, despite everything happening inside his body, he still wakes up happy. He doesn’t know he is sick, or why he is feeling different. He still wags his tail, goes about his daily routine, and loves us with every fiber of his being. He wants to live. He deserves to live.

And with treatment, he has a real chance.

His oncologist believes that with surgery and radiation, Jameson could have years more—years of sunbaths, swims, singing, and unbridled joy.

But the cost of that treatment is around $25,000, and facing that alone has left me feeling terrified and helpless.

I would give anything—anything—to save him.

I would go without. I would do whatever it takes.

But I cannot reach this number by myself, no matter how desperately I want to.

This is why I’m asking for help.

I have never struggled with anything as deeply as this.

Asking for help is incredibly hard. Opening up about this leaves me feeling vulnerable and scared, but the thought of losing him before his time is unbearable.

I have been unable to work for almost a year after injuring my back while providing hospice care and am currently recovering from spinal surgery. I simply don’t have the means to pay for his treatment on my own.

I don’t want to look back and wonder if I could have done more.

I don’t want to lose my best friend because I couldn’t afford to save him.

Jameson is the beating heart of my home and my life.

He has been there for me through everything—and now he needs me.

I’m doing everything in my power to fight for him.

I’m begging for more time with him.

More moments, memories, and love.

How You Can Help

If you feel moved to donate—even a little—it will go directly toward Jameson’s surgery, radiation, and follow-up care. If you’re unable to donate, simply sharing his story would mean the world to me.

Thank you for reading this.

Thank you for helping me fight for the soul who has given me more love, comfort, and happiness than I ever thought possible.

From the deepest part of my heart— thank you for helping me try to save my best friend. ❤️