Help Raven Fight Bone Cancer

My name is Nic and I would like to introduce you to my sweet girl Raven. She's been my best friend and constant adventuring companion for the last nearly six years.

Last week on Tuesday, July 16th, my world collapsed. I'll give you the diagnosis and then share Raven's backstory.

Raven had been limping after a hike near the beginning on June and on advice from our vet, I had limited her activity for about a month thinking it was a muscle or nerve issue that needed time to heal. Unfortunately, the reality was far worse.

Following a CT scan, I was asked to come into a room to talk through the results. I was nervous and when the doctor walked in he said, "it's not good news." My heart sank as I stated, "it's cancer." I didn't even pose it as a question as I knew it was true. The doctor concurred. Raven was diagnosed with osteosarcoma, bone cancer in her right shoulder. I was devastated.

The doctor proceeded to show me the images and talk through the prognosis. They're summarized as follows:

It felt like my world had ended. I stood there, in a dark room with images of my sweet girl displayed on monitors, the monster that is bone cancer destroying her right should clearly visible. My brain ran in so many directions it took me a few minutes to catch back up and process what the doctor was saying.

According to the doctor (and the frantic reading that I've done since this horrible diagnosis a week ago), dogs who undergo limb amputation plus chemo have a 50% chance of making it to a year, and a 25% of making it to two years. The odds aren't really in our favor. Osteosarcoma is also apparently very predictable and from the primary tumor site it goes straight for the lungs. What makes the prognosis harder is, at the time of the scan, the cancer had not metastasized to her lungs, at least in a detectable way, but the statistics are that 80-90% of dogs at the time of diagnosis have microscopic cancer cells floating around; they just aren't detectable yet. So even with amputation to remove the primary tumor and chemo afterwards, it's likely that she'll develop cancer in the future. Finally, to make matters worse, it's an aggressive cancer so time really isn't on our side to make a decision.

After hearing all the things the doctor said, I knew immediately I wasn't going to choose the palliative or only chemo or only amputation options as those put her through a lot with the same short-term outcome: 2-6 months. That left only two, absolutely horrible things to choose from:

Now, I have an idea what you're thinking, because I've been struggling with it too: amputation sounds extreme. It is. That said, after talking with the doctor who coordinated the CT scan, and after getting a second opinion, here's what I've learned:

The other option to prevent suffering would be to send her over the rainbow bridge early since I never want her to suffer. The phrase I keep seeing is "a month too early is better than a minute too late," and any time I think about it, it brings me to tears.

This last week has been the worst week of my life. My world has come crashing down and it's been rough watching Raven knowing her time is acutely limited. I've vacillated between amputation/chemo and rainbow bridge more times than I can count. Through it all, while she has been limping, she's been generally care free running around with her friends, splashing in water, chomping on sticks, and snoozing by my side. We've gone to many of her favorite places and have just existed together. It's been beautiful and it's been tough.

At the end of the day, I don't want Raven to suffer, even for an instant, and I know this disease is most likely terminal. Even with treatment, there's a good chance she won't be here in a year. For a few days this week I've leaned on the letting her go side of things, thinking that doing it while she's still in good spirits and enjoying life is the best thing to do. That really sucks. I can't begin to describe how it feels to look at your baby and think the best thing to do is to end their life humanely to prevent suffering. I even went to so far as to schedule an at-home appointment for a peaceful transition this week. That broke my heart.

On the other side of it, she is in pain and there is a treatment that will immediately remove her pain. It will take an adjustment, and we'll need to do chemo afterwards, but amputation of her right arm would remove her pain and allow her to get back to doing the things she loves. The doctors (and everything I've read so far) indicate she will be up and walking the same day as surgery, if a little wobbly. In 1-2 weeks she should be able to go on longer walks, and a couple weeks later she'll be able to swim. It will return her to a good quality of life, free of pain and improved from what it is now, given she's limping. When I got a second opinion about the diagnosis, the doctor said, based on Raven's age, physicality, and level of activity, they would 100% recommend her for the procedure.

One of my friends said, when I was talking about the timeline for getting back to the things she loves, "what Raven loves is doing things with you, whatever that is." I think that's true, and despite the pain I know she's in, she's still excited to wake up in the morning, follow me around the house, go on car rides, play in the water, chase squirrels, and go on adventures...or just hang out and chill. I have seen the energy she still has and the drive to keep doing things. I know the reality is that the cancer will most likely get her in the end, and not all of the coming days will be good. Some of them will be tough as we navigate this new chapter, but I'm hopeful that the vast majority of the days will be pain free and I can continue to give her an amazing life, hopefully for many, many months to come (or perhaps she'll beat it!).

One of the many things that suck about this disease is time really matters. Every day we wait, the more likely it is the cancer has spread. It makes the decision feel rushed, frantic, and uncertain. I don't think there is a "right" decision to be made. Both choices are absolutely horrible and I know no matter what I choose, there will be times that I doubt that choice.

When I first adopted Raven, she and I were sitting on the couch and I told her I would never leave her. At the beginning I thought that meant I wouldn't abandon her or return her to the rescue. Now, in this last week, I think it meant I won't ever leave her in her time of need, and what she needs now is for me to be strong and make the hard choice. I thought the hard choice was saying goodbye. Now I think the hard choice is saying, "let's go into the unknown, together. Let's have one final adventure." That's at least what I'm holding onto and, as such, I have elected to go the route of amputation and chemo.

Her appointment is scheduled for 7/24. Her right arm will be amputated and she'll come home my sweet, giant tripawd. I am terrified of making the wrong decision and putting her through something hard. Everything I've read and everything my doctor has told me is dogs recover extremely quickly from amputation and are happy being free from pain. I have no idea what the future looks like, or how long she will be in my life, but Raven has given me so much. I know that if I don't try to save her life and give her an amazing adventure, it is something I will regret for the rest of mine. Things will look different on the other side, for sure, but I will always be there for her.

Last week we went to one of her favorite beaches in Seattle, Golden Gardens. We watched the sunset and made paw print art with her affected paw (it's the paw she always puts on me when she's trying to get my attention, or offer comfort). I'm going to get the first one as a tattoo.

Fundraising Goal

Unfortunately, and stupidly, I don't have pet insurance. It's something I used to have, but after some bad experiences, I let it lapse. I always meant to get it again, but never did.

As a large breed dog, surgery is going to be expensive. I've been quoted ~$10,000.

Chemo is going to run about $1,000 per dose, and she'll need 6 treatments every 3-4 weeks. In addition to some changes at home for her comfort as a tripawd, in total her care is going to be around $20,000. I am happy to do it if it gives her a good quality of life and more time for adventures. For me, the decision to move forward has nothing to do with money. She's my kid and I would do anything for her. All that said, I am starting this GoFundMe for a reason.

I am not looking to have her entire care covered. As her guardian, it is my responsibility to take care of her however I can. It will delay some life goals in the short-term, but she is the most important thing in this world to me. If you are willing to help give her the best life possible, helping to fund her care will help pay for:

Anything you are willing to donate to help Raven live the absolute best life she possibly can is immensely appreciated and means more to me than I can possibly say. I am eternally grateful for more time with my sweet girl and the opportunity to help her to live an amazing life.

After the cost of her treatment, if there is anything left over, I will be donating it to a local rescue or organization to help dogs in need. I haven't decided where yet, but I will make it known here. And ff you can't donate, no problem at all. Please share her story and keep her in her thoughts.

If you would like to know more about Raven's story, please continue reading below.

Raven

Raven came from an abusive home and was rescued by Smidget Rescue in Covington, WA in early 2018. Six months later, my partner at the time and I met her at an adoption event and fell in love.

I had been wanting a dog for some time and had always been interested in larger breeds. Raven, when I met her, was 85 lbs and still growing. She's 95 lbs now. At the adoption event, while everyone else was looking at her through her crate, I asked to take her out for a quick walk in the field and she did great. I knew I wanted her in my life. Fast forward a few weeks, after my partner and I met her again at her foster's house, and we were dads to an intelligent, gorgeous, and oh so curious (and huge) fur baby. We had actually seen her on Petfinder prior to meeting her in person, though we didn't put two-and-two together at the time.

As with any rescue, Raven certainly had her personality quirks. She's scared of the rain and driving through puddles -- although she LOVES swimming and being in water -- she is afraid of certain birds, when she's concerned about something she'll put a paw on you, sit right in front of you, or if it's night time, she will lay across you...85 lbs right across your chest. She's also a little distrustful of new people. She loves her friends and when she warms up all she wants are belly rubs and pets, but it takes a little bit. As a German Shepherd mix, she is exceptionally strong willed, motivated, and up for adventure.

Over the last six years Raven and I have gone on so many adventures. We've hiked mountains, gone backpacking, snowshoed and skied, I've taken her paddle boarding, and most recently we went on a 6 week road trip around the western and central parts of the United States. Here are some of our adventures.

Raven means the world to me. She's my child, my best friend, the sweetest girl (once she gets to know you), and I would do anything to give her more time. I love her so, so much.