We noticed his change in behavior, did the wave the hand in front of the face test. He was suddenly blind. Otherwise he was fine, in no pain, still eating and drinking.
First thing next morning I called the vet, got the appointment that afternoon. X-ray taken, results clear. Lymphatic cancer tumor was obstructing the optic nerve. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.
We spoke with the veterinarian, he owned the clinic and we had known him and gone to his practice for years. Normally, chemotherapy is given at the state university hospital in Madison, 90 miles away. 10 sessions (quoting from faulty memory), one week apart. $$$$
The vet offered to do the chemotherapy at his clinic, Chico would be his last patient of the day. Fees were cost plus their labor time, very fair and reasonable. We began chemotherapy at his clinic.
Chico adjusted well to his blindness, he trusted us on his leash outside, and knew his way around inside. He did not become the emotional wreck that I would have been under the same circumstances.
After week 3 of chemotherapy, Chico’s vision returned, tumor shrank enough to release pressure on the nerve. He had another 18 months of good health before the cancer monster returned with a vengeance. While there were some new, much more expensive chemotherapy drugs available, we agreed it was his time. Adiós Chico, see you on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.
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