Reno is not only amazing because he’s 12 years old, and a three year bone cancer survivor, but he’s also super amazing because . . .

Reno has lived with lung metastasis for two years!

This pawesome pup wants everyone to know that despite a dog’s age, or his size, or even the fact that he might have lung mets, sometimes miracles do happen, and the statistics get tossed out the window. Without further ado, here’s Reno’s story in his own words.

My Canine Bone Cancer Story

“My name is Reno. On July 5, 2010 I was 12 years old; for a malamute like me that’s over 65 years old, but I look fantastic for my age and am as spry as any pup one third my age.

I’ve decided that the time has come to share my story, the saga of my journey with cancer to encourage all species that it’s important to fight to beat the odds, even if it’s just for an extra year or more to lie in the sun and get your caretakers to massage your ears and scratch your back.

I have now lived longer than any other dog with this condition, over three years since my diagnosis when most live two to six months or a year at most.

The Bad News: Osteosarcoma

It all began with a pain in my back leg in early fall of 2007, which first made me just hobble a bit. I didn’t want to be a wuss, so I just adjusted as the pain got worse, until I was walking on three legs, letting the sore leg dangle because any weight sent sharp pain shooting up the bone.

The vet thought I had injured it getting into my usual mischief, but when cortisone and other meds didn’t help, he decided to take an x-ray and then a biopsy.

It was October when the bad news came back: osteosarcoma, a malignant bone tumor that spreads to the lungs, the bad luck special disease of big dog breeds like me.

And the bad news just kept coming; taking off the leg would only give me another couple of months; chemotherapy offered no real promises, a few more months, but maybe longer with some new methods. Most humans choose to give up at this point, “put them down,” as the euphemism goes, but we’re all fighter’s in our family and always choose to take a shot, even if it’s a long shot.

My Recovery and Treatment

So began the next phase of my life. First, the affected leg had to go. It’s not as bad as it sounds; it was great to wake up and have the pain gone for good. Since I was already used to walking on three legs, everyone was amazed that I just popped up and was ready to go home.

There still was some adjustment; the extra weight on the only back leg causes some muscle strain, so I have to keep getting leaner and need to rely on aspirin and such, but it also has its advantages. It’s easy now to pee on absolutely anything I want to, no leg to balance up in the air, just a straight shot. Pooping is a bit trickier, but I’ve managed that quite well too since squatting for a long time is kind of hard. I sort of hop squat when I poop, which spreads it around a bit, but that’s no big deal to me, since I don’t have to pick it up.

I can still run and chase the other dogs, go up and down stairs, and can drag anyone down the street at a good romp when they take me for a walk.

Lung Mets Can’t Stop Me!

Chemotherapy is a big story all to itself. First came the big whamee, the megadoses of chemotherapy, five doses over 10 weeks of Doxorubicin (adriamycin). I feel bad for the human species; chemotherapy does some pretty harsh things to you. It’s not as hard on my species, though it’s no picnic.

I didn’t feel particularly sick, but I wasn’t my energetic self, and my caretakers were careful because my immune system might be a little weakened temporarily. So they gave me my own bachelor pad, a room with the floor converted into one huge dog bed. It was especially important when my fur started to thin out. My once thick double coat I had every winter became wispy and light, too thin for the outside dog house and the cement I used to love sleeping on to keep cool. I never got bald, but I looked ancient for awhile, my beautiful top coat with all the black markings gone and just a grayish white fluff left behind.

But, you know, unlike humans, none of my dog pals even noticed my hair or my missing leg, and my caretakers pampered me to the max. And when the chemo was over, before long all my hair, including my gorgeous black and white mask, grew back.

That should have been the end of the story, but three months later we got more bad news, a couple of tiny spots were found in my lungs; the chemo hadn’t stopped the metastasis, the news every cancer patient of every species dreads.

Metronomic Therapy Works for Me

But my doctor offered hope, a new experimental treatment, a low dose chemo given at home every other day, along with doxycycline (to inhibit formation of blood vessels that would feed any tumors), was promising for a small percentage.

We started the regimen, and it seemed to be keeping everything in check, but the side effect of a bloody bladder infection was too much for me. There are times when fortune comes your way disguised a misery; this was one of those times.

Because of the side effects, the doctor and my caretakers decided to try a different drug, Leukeran, because it has no side effects and “theoretically” should work the same, but hadn’t been tested that way.

To everyone’s happy surprise, it worked even better, and on my last x-ray, the very small spots on my lungs have shrunk beyond visibility.

One last thing about treatment, we also saw a homeopathic vet, who put me on herbals, mushrooms, and bovine colostrum. We can’t tell what is contributing to my improving health, but are happy for all the alternatives.

Thriving Today and Loving Life with My Pack

I’ve managed to milk this thing as much as I can. My caretakers now buy raw hamburger or share their cooked (and boned) chicken thighs with me just so they can hide my pills inside.

When I’m bored, I like to jerk them around a bit and can eat the meat and spit out the pills.

This makes them work a little harder to please me, adding a coating of cat food gravy, peanut butter, or mayonnaise to whatever they’re offering. I don’t know how much longer I have, but I feel fine and life is good.

If you would like more information on my treatment, or just about me, my secretary (I let her think she is my owner) will be happy to answer any questions and provide any information you need. You can contact her through Tripawds. She calls herself Diane; I call her whenever I need something.

Many thanks to Reno’s Mom Diane for contributing his inspiring story to us.

Join the forum discussion on this topic.

At one time or another, all of us have benefited from the expertise of  fellow member Dr. Pam Wiltzius, DVM, a veterinarian from Puyallup, Washington.

Dr. Wiltzius joined us in August, 2008, when her beloved 165-pound Mastiff, Tazzie, was diagnosed with osteosarcoma. Since then, she has generously shared so much of her time and perspective with us, and we really can’t thank her enough.

Tazzie’s story has always served as an inspawration to us, and we always point new members to it. Tazzie proved that if a big gal like her could live a good life on three legs, there’s hope for other dogs too. Recently we were digging through older Discussion Forum posts, and came across one of Dr. Wiltzius’ first posts about Tazzie.

“Unfortunately, Tazzie had a limp 2 weeks ago. I am a veterinarian, so I took Tazzie in for xrays the next day and confirmed a lytic lesion in her right front leg near the carpus (wrist joint) which is almost always osteosarcoma. Like all of you, I struggled with the decision to amputate her leg. She is only 6 years old, but has already had both of her knees repaired and she is a very big dog (165 pounds).”

We would like to share Dr. Wiltzius’ early experience with Tazzie’s diagnosis below, because she has some terrific advice about how she approaches pain management, amputation surgery and follow up care. We hope you find it as valuable as we do. And if you have amputation questions of your own for Dr. Wiltzius, be sure to post them in our Ask A Vet Discussion Forum topic.

Tazzie coming home: One Vet’s Amputation Surgery & Recovery Tips
28 August 2008

Hello everyone,

My name is Pam and my husband and I share our house with 3 dogs; Tazzie (Mastiff), Loki (Dogue de Bordeaux), and Kona (Pitbull). Unfortunately, Tazzie had a limp 2 weeks ago. I am a veterinarian, so I took Tazzie in for xrays the next day and confirmed a lytic lesion in her right front leg near the carpus (wrist joint) which is almost always osteosarcoma. Like all of you, I struggled with the decision to amputate her leg. She is only 6 years old, but has already had both of her knees repaired and she is a very big dog (165 pounds).

I found your excellent website and have been following the stories of all the dogs, especially Titan and Butch. Dogs really are so amazing and resilient! After a week of furthur testing (chest rads, abdominal ultrasound, bloodwork) we scheduled the amputation. Even though I have performed many of these myself, I just couldn’t do my own dog so I had the surgeon who repaired her knees do it for me.

Tazzie had her amputation Tuesday 8/26 and is doing very well! I am planning on taking her home on Friday since we have a long weekend.

I thought I could pass on some tips for any dogs that may need amputation in the future, since there is lots of new info out there. I know that different vets have different opinions but this is what has worked for me.

First of all, I would always use what is called a CRI (continuous rate infusion) of morphine, lidocaine, and ketamine (MLK) during the amputation. These drugs help prevent a lot of the pain felt after an amputation and allow you to use less gas anesthesia during the procedure. The drip is continued postop until the dog is comfortable. Tazzie’s surgery lasted 3 hours and she needed the drip for 12 hours postop until she was comfy. I have to admit that I slept on the kennel floor with her all night long just to make sure she was ok.Smile

I started her on 3 drugs the day before surgery. One is a Fentanyl patch applied to one of her back legs. This is a narcotic that lasts 3-5 days and will be removed Friday. The other drugs are gabapentin and amantadine. These are drugs used in human medicine and both are inexpensive and very safe (main sided effect is sleepiness from gabapentin). Gabapentin is used to prevent nerve root pain and thereoretically can help with “phantom pain“. We can’t ask our dogs about that but I think that it does exist! Gabapentin is continued for 2-4 weeks after surgery depending on the dog. Amantadine helps prevent what is called pain “wind up”. Once the pain receptors are annoyed it takes more pain meds to calm them down. This drug blocks that response and can be used for 1-2 weeks postop. Lots of dogs with chronic arthritis also take this drug for flare-ups when the Rimadyl or other NSAIDs they are taking stop working.

Tazzie will also take Tramadol as needed for pain after she comes home. I will continue her glucosamine supplement (Dasequin) and add fish oil. She can’t take an NSAID due to high liver enzymes but that is a great choice for other dogs. She eats Innova (Evo is also a great food but her liver can’t handle it) which I supplement with veggies and chicken or turkey.

Her first chemo is 9/15. I will do Carboplatin because it has the fewest side effects and has been linked to more long-term survival rates (although median survival age is the same with all chemo drugs). I should get the biopsy results next week. On large/giant dogs with Tazzie’s symptoms and radiographs I don’t usually put them through a painful bone biopsy first since we don’t have fungal disease in our neck of the woods (Seattle). I just send in a sample after the leg is off.

Well I know that this is a long, technical, and maybe boring post but maybe it will help someone make their decision regarding amputation. I think that almost all dogs are good candidates for this procedure regardless of size as long as they aren’t severly arthritic or neurologic, and it sure beats the severe pain of bone cancer!

I will keep you updated and try to send a picture through Jerry as I am technologically challenged when it comes to computers.

Pam (and Tazzie!)

1 September 2008

Hello,  I just wanted to give everyone a quick update on Tazzie.  She is really doing well on 3 legs! I am very surprised that it is day 6 and she can go out by herself to pee and finally had a bowel movement yesterday.  She is back to eating dry kibble (if I hand-feed her) and her pain seems well controlled.

My other 2 dogs are treating her very well and so far we have had no mishaps like fighting for food or attention.  Her incision is a little puffy but so far no seroma!  I am keeping a body bandage and tshirt on her just to be safe, until her staples come out.

I still have to figure out the harness I bought.  Has anyone tried this with a giant breed dog?  I plan on using it to help get her to her chemo appt on September 15th but it just doesn’t seem like it will support her huge body!

I sent a postop picture to Jerry and I had done another post answering some of your questions but I don’t see it here.  If he can’t find it I will repeat it later.

Good luck to all,

Pam and Tazzie

7 September 2008

I just thought I’d post an update on Tazzie. She is still getting around very well, and is eating and drinking like a champ. She has been trying to figure out how to get back on the couches and bed but can’t quite get there yet with just the 1 front leg. My husband moved our kingsized mattress on the floor and we all sleep there so she won’t feel left out!

She has developed a firm cellulitis over her incision area.

I sent some pix to Jerry in case anyone is interested. It is not painful or red, and not soft like a seroma. I think that the deeper tissues like muscles and fat are healing at different rates so it feels lumpy.

Also, she developed a bad bladder infection and had a flare-up of hepatitis post-op when she was still in the hospital so we had to change her antibiotic. Her incison was a little infected then and I think that also has contributed to her problems now. I sent blood to the lab today to see if her liver enzymes have returned to normal. She was actually jaundiced for a day or two (kind of scaryFrown).

I am planning on removing her staples on Tuesday Sept 9th and then the next step is chemo. For now she wears her Led Zeppelin tshirts and feels like a rock star!

To follow along on her journey, here are all of the posts Dr. Wiltzius wrote about Tazzie.

Tazzie earned her wings on October 18, 2009.

Join the forum discussion on this topic.

When I was diagnosed with osteosarcoma in November, 2006, my pawrents weren’t sure if I could have a good life on three legs. They went online looking for answers, and saw a video of Moose, a three legged Harlequin Great Dane. In the video, Moose was digging up the ground and looking for gophers. That video convinced my pawrents that I could live a hoppy life on three legs. If it wasn’t for Moose, Tripawds would not exist.

Now, whenever people wonder about whether or not a big dog can live a good life as an amputee, we point to Moose’s video, and let them decide.

Here is a touching recollection from Moose’s Dad Joel, about the day when Moose made a lasting impression upon the hearts and minds of residents in Santa Barbara, California.

Moose Leads the Big Dog Parade

Our favorite summer event is the Big Dog Parade in Santa Barbara. The clothing company Big Dog is based in Santa Barbara and sponsors an annual parade for dogs and their owners. A few thousand dogs and their owners walk down State Street to the park at the beach. It is quite a sight, dogs and people of all shapes and sizes, many in costume sauntering down the road to the beach. Thousands more people are lining the road watching the crazy assortment of dogs, people, and the occasional school band. As the 14th annual Big Dog Parade approached, Moose was beating the odds against bone cancer.

From Diagnosis to Canine Celebrity

Almost two years earlier, Moose had been dealt the worst diagnosis a dog can get, bone cancer. The local vet was very negative, and shared the story of another dog with the same diagnosis that did very poorly with the standard treatment of amputation. He said we should consider putting Moose down, or possibly amputation witch he said might buy Moose and us 6 months. At that my partner Ross told the vet he was not going to cut off his dogs leg and stormed out of the exam room.

The choice seemed a lose-lose. Put the dog down as soon as the pain meds stop blocking the increasing pain of the tumor which the vet said would be soon, or cut off his leg and let him hobble around until the microscopic cancer cells that likely were already streaming around his body grow up and kill him. Moose was only four years old, and other than the golf ball size tumor on his front leg, he seemed so healthy and full of life. We just could not put him down.

But what about the alternative, amputate the leg? I have seen many three leg dogs do amazingly well, but Moose was a huge harlequin Great Dane. How could a 140 pound dog that was 38 inches off the ground at his shoulders have any quality of life missing a leg? It seemed like disservice to the poor guy. As we researched things many told us that big dogs like Moose really can do well with three legs. Sure it is possible to survive with three legs, but Moose was a very active dog that loved to play and run around our five acre country homestead. Ross and I were pretty much completely against the amputation, but also not ready to put him down.

Both Ross and I spent time trying to understand what Moose wanted. After a couple of days, it was clear to both of us that Moose wanted to stay around and hunt for lizards, even if it was on three legs.

About the time we realized what Moose wanted, we found out about a bone cancer study at the UC Davis Veterinary Teaching Hospital. The study gave Moose the best care possible, which could improve his odds at a better outcome. Part of what we sensed from Moose was that he didn’t care what happened down the road, only in enjoying the moment, whatever the conditions.

Moose became a big celebrity at the Davis Teaching Hospital. He went through the amputation and six rounds of chemo like a trouper. Through every treatment and test, Moose was the model patient. He would let them poke and prod and put him through whatever thing they had to do without the slightest disagreement. When I would pick him up after treatment or tests, he was always just happy to see me and looking for a fun time. It was a four hour drive from our house to Davis, and Moose and I searched out the best places along the trip to run, play, and pee, and boy did Moose run. The amputation did not slow Moose down one bit. His remaining front leg became stronger and stronger to the point that we called it the “Arnold Leg” after our Terminator Governor.

The small rural town that we live in got used to the huge three legged Dane. Before Moose’s amputation, he attracted a ton of attention simply by his size. Now that he only had three legs it was fun to watch people’s reaction. Most of the time, people would be attracted to him because of how big he was and come over to meet him. After a minute or two they would realize that he only had three legs. At that point most people would freak out and while in amazement that such a big dog could do so well with three legs, back away from the “disabled dog.”

Watching this over and over made me realize that I, like most others did the same thing when I saw a “disabled person” without realizing what I was missing out on. We had become so familiar with Moose’s lost leg and regularly would pet and caress the amputation site, seeing it as a beautiful part of our wonderful Moo boy, rather than an ugly deformity as most others saw it. I was deeply hurt on more than one occasion where a close friend that I admired greatly cringed and didn’t even want to look at the “deformity.”

Full Speed Ahead!

So as the Big Dog Parade drew closer, Ross and I got more and more excited about taking Moose to the parade. Moose had become so strong since his amputation and chemo that he had regained virtually all of his pre-amputation abilities. He had even figured out how to dig for gophers with only one front paw. Even with Moose so strong Ross and I were a bit concerned that he wouldn’t be able to make the few mile long parade route and back to the car. We felt that he would likely do fine, but if he had any problems we could just stop and one of us could go get the car. As the date approached Ross realized that he would be unable to go to the parade due to scheduling conflicts with work, and as a small business owner, he had no choice but to tend to his business. So I decided that I would take Moose on my own, and if Moose got tired I would get help from friends that lived in Santa Barbara.

On the morning of the parade, I had to get Moose fed and ready early so we could make the two hour drive and register before the 10 AM beginning of the parade. As always Moose knew that we were preparing for a road trip and was very excited. No problem getting him to jump into the car, he was ready to go! Windows down, head out, ears flapping in the breeze as we headed to town to catch the freeway. Moose was enjoying every minute. Moose like most dogs would make the most of every moment of every day, and today was no different.

We arrived in Santa Barbara a bit later than I had planned so we literally ran from the parking structure to De la Guerra Plaza where the check in and participants were lined up waiting for the parade to begin. Running was actually much easier for Moose than walking. With only one front leg, he had to hop almost strait up to walk slowly, but to run he was able to use his hind legs for impulsion and literally bounce off the single front leg. He could literally run as fast on three legs as he ever did with four, but it took much more effort to walk slowly with three legs. So there we were running at full speed down State Street weaving in and around the crowded sidewalk on our way to the Plaza.

We checked in, paid our entrance fee, got our number sign and found our place in the line with all the other dogs and owners waiting for the parade to begin. As we stood there, surrounded by hundreds of dogs and owners a few people would stop by to see Moose. And like always most would not realize he was missing a leg, but when they made that realization would tell me how well he was dealing with his “disability” and quickly fade away. It was an exciting and fun time just to be surrounded by all the dogs and “dog people”. I have always felt a connection to other “dog people” somehow thinking that we shared a common understanding of the canine-human bond. Today was even better, not only were we surrounded by all these dogs and “dog people”, but it was a party atmosphere with some very creative costumes for both the dogs and people and the local school marching bands practicing to get ready for their performance in the parade. I tried to get Moose to lay down as we waited in line so he could save his strength for the parade, but he was so excited that he stayed standing having to keep hopping on his front leg to maintain balance. We were in a specified order behind a group of about a dozen magnificent Great Pyrenees and next to a gay couple with their cute beagle mix who was loving all the excitement of the crowd. I struck up a conversation with the two guys next to me exchanging all the information about our dogs and our lives.

As the procession began to move, and the bands began playing their marching tunes, smiles and excitement filled the air. How could anyone keep from smiling at this wonderful scene. I was having a hard time keeping from crying out of joy. How I never expected to be able to experience this wonderful moment with my beloved Moo boy when we got the dreaded diagnosis, and now here we were beating the odds and strong as ever enjoying every moment. As we turned the corner from the plaza and started down State Street we were able to see the crowd three or four deep lining the sidewalk to watch to procession of crazy dogs and their companions. The crowd would react to each new group of dogs passing by with hoots and howls and most of all big smiles.

Our group of assorted dogs had a hard time showing up the magnificent Great Pyrenees that proceeded us. They were all groomed perfectly with their fluffy snow white fur and really were a magnificent sight. But our group got our share of claps and acknowledgment, and every so often I could see someone pointing out the three legged Dane.

After a few blocks I could see that Moose was already getting tired walking the slow procession of the parade. I was realizing that he would have a tough time making it the whole way walking so slow. About when I was ready to give up, I realized that the group of Great Pyrenees had sped up and there was a half a block of space between them and our group. Moose looked back at me and in an instant I realized he was asking me to let him have his wings and run free. So I told the gay couple to “watch this” and clicked my tongue twice giving Moose the signal to run. He and I ran together into the gap in front of us and Moose was in his element.

I could see him smile with his ears waving in the breeze. As we caught up with the Great Pyrenees I curved around and made a circle around the space between the groups of dogs. At that point I heard a massive roar from the crowds on the sidewalk. I have never and probably will never experience anything like this. Literally everyone on the sidewalk was focused on us in a continuous standing ovation. At this point I could not hold back my tears of joy and appreciation. As we continued to run in big circles in the gap between the two groups of dogs I could see Moose beaming from ear to ear reveling in the roar of approval from the crowd.

Moose and I continued running in circles the entire remaining course of the parade. As we moved down State Street the crowd lining the sidewalk continued to roar with approval as we circled past them. I was unable to stop my tears and Moose was flying free sending out the most positive energy you could ever imagine. As we made the turn off State Street nearing the park where the parade was to end, it was I that was having difficulty keeping up with the Moo boy.

As we reached the grassy park bordering the beach we found wadding pools to get a drink and a party atmosphere with bands playing and crowds of people and dogs wagging their tails. I found an open spot of grass where Moose and I could sit down and rest a bit. Within a few seconds Moose and I were surrounded by a massive crowd of people wanting to meet the amazing three legged Dane. Everyone wanted to hear Moose’s story of why he was missing a leg and pet and kiss the Moo boy. Moose had more than enough sloppy Dane kisses for everyone. For the first time, peoples reaction was not one of pity but envious of the courageous fun loving attitude that was oozing out of Moose. We stayed surrounded by this massive crowd for a couple of hours until the crowd started to thin and more importantly I caught my breath from running in circles down State Street.

Kindred Souls Share Boundless Pawsibilities

As we were getting ready to make the walk back to the car I realized that the reaction from most of the people who wanted to meet Moose was quite different than normal. There was not the typical attitude of pity and negativity that I would normally see, instead it was an attitude of inspiration. It was an attitude of boundless possibility rather than pity for the poor “disabled” dog.

Moose and I started our run up State Street to our car. The scene was quite different now, with most of the dog paraders dispersed and heading home and the normal crush of tourists milling along the sidewalk. We ran each block, darting between and around the tourists, occasionally getting stopped at a street corner waiting for a stoplight to change.

At one stoplight a young man on a mountain bike approached as we waited for the light to change. He said hi and asked if he could talk to me about my dog. He asked all about why he was missing a leg, listening more intently than most who stopped us. We stood at the corner talking while two or three cycles of the streetlight changed. After I explained all about Moose’s story, the guy told me that he had seen Moose running with such enjoyment in the parade that he had to meet him and how much it meant to him to get that chance. Then the light turned green, he told me to have a nice day and sped off on his mountain bike, popping a wheeley as he departed. When he got about half way across the street, he looked back at us with the same smile that I saw on Moose’s face when he was running like the wind.

It was not until the guy was part way up the next block that I realized that one of his legs was a prosthesis. The emotions hit me like a ton of bricks. This time it was I who was oblivious of the missing leg. I wanted so much to be able to talk with the guy, but he was long gone. It hit me that he sped away on his bike, with the same ultimate enjoyment of the moment that I saw in Moose every time he got a chance to run like the wind.

We made it back to the car, again with me more out of breath than Moose. On our drive home I kept re-living the extraordinary day. The attention and continuous applause was something I have never experienced in my life, even with the attention really focused on Moose and not myself. It was invigorating to get so much approval from strangers. But it made me think about how much Moose had brought to Ross and and my life through his battle with bone cancer. Moose taught us to not avoid people or dogs with a “disability”, rather to be so appreciative that we have to opportunity to be in each others lives. Moose’s attitude about his “disability” was that it was not a “disability” it was just how it is. He took it from there and figured out ways to revel in every opportunity for fun. I think the outpouring of appreciation from the crowd was not because they had never seen such a big dog run with only three legs, but was appreciation that he did not let the missing leg keep him from having such a fun day. I will never meet the guy on the bike with only one leg again, but watching him speed away and pop a wheeley caused be to be so appreciative that he also did not let his “disability” get in the way of having a wonderful day. This is a lesson that all dogs seem to know innately, but I was only able to understand with the help of my best friend Moo boy.

Here is Moose’s Website with more pictures and information

Join the forum discussion on this topic.

Every day new Tripawd pawrents join us to gather information and consolation from other three legged dog families.

Earlier this year, one new member, Athena, came to us to share her story. Coincidentally, she also happened to live in the same area that we do, Fort Collins Colorado.

Fort Collins is home to Colorado State University’s Animal Cancer Center, one of the best canine cancer care clinics and research facilities in the world.

Earlier this year, Athena was given the devastating diagnosis of osteosarcoma. Luckily though, she lives just a few blocks from the Animal Cancer Center.

We recently caught up with Athena and her Mom, Esther, and learned about the allopathic and holistic treatments she is receiving, including Reiki therapy.

Athena’s primary care vet is one of the leading animal pain management specialists, Dr. Robin Downing, in Windsor, Colorado. This lucky Dane is also fortunate enough to participate in CSU’s Gene Therapy Clinical Trial (gene therapy uses specific genes that are carried into cells to fight cancer).

As you will see in the video, neither amputation nor cancer will stop this giant breed three legged girldog from enjoying life. Athena is larger than life, and absolute proof that even big dogs can make great Tripawds!

Moose became our instant hero. If a big dog like him could love life and hunt gophers on three legs, so could I! We went through with my amputation, and never looked back.

Moose battled osteosarcoma like a hero, for just over two years. He fought valiantly, and in the end, it wasn’t even the cancer that took him. When he passed away, my pawrents shed many tears, for it was a reminder that my time was also limited.

Throughout my own osteosarcoma ordeal, Moose’s pawrents, Joel and Ross, were always there for us, ready to help with information and moral support.

What a joy it was to finally meet these Tripawd heroes in person. They paved the way on the Internet and showed the world what tripod dogs are capable of. If it wasn’t for them, Tripawds would not exist.

At their home in central California, Joel and Ross are now busy raising Hazel, Hula and River, an 11-year old  fibrosarcoma cancer survivor. They also have a small band of horses and even a donkey!

Meeting them was like coming home to family. As people that have been through osteosarcoma and canine cancer, we had lots to talk about.

Joel told us about River’s amazing recovery from fibrosarcoma. His cancer has been in remission for about 1 year after being diagnosed! Joel attributes this to the supplements River gets, by Genesis Pet Products; an immune support supplement, CAS Options, and Joint Support Plus. If River’s spunk is any indication of how well this stuff work, you may want to see if they’re right for your own Tripawd.

We had such a great time with this crew. Please join us in giving a great big “WOOF!” to Joel and Ross, for providing the inspiration that now gives every three legged dog a chance at proving to their humans and the world that “It’s better to hop on three legs than limp on four!”