If you look up long-term hemangiosarcoma survivor Tripawd dogs, the one adorable face you will see the most in our community is Shadow the Corgi. This incredible cancer warrior joined our discussion forums in 2021, and lived a stunning five years after losing his leg to this aggressive cancer with a very poor prognosis.
Sadly, Shadow got his angel wings earlier this year. His mom Linda Khachadourian is a generous supporter and friend of our community. Today we are so honored that she’s sharing Shadow’s life story today, so that it can inspire others facing this difficult diagnosis in their dog.
Get out your box of tissue and be prepared to be amazed. Meet Shadow!
Shadow, a Big Adorable Presence in a Small Corgi Body
Shadow was born November 27, 2018 and he became part of our family officially on January 24, 2019.
He was immediately a presence…loud, sweet, playful, clingy and… hungry all the time!
He was also “squishy” as we liked to say, with soft fur, beautiful eyes and a perfect corgi booty.
Shadow was diagnosed with hemangiosarcoma in his front leg in February of 2021.
The vets told us that even with amputation and chemo, we’d get 5 months with him tops. But he was only 2 years old!
He had so much life to live and love to give. So, we chose both amputation and chemo. Shadow cruised through both, never complaining, always ready to eat and play.
And miraculously, he was cancer free! First, we counted the weeks, then months, then a year, then two…and then five! We celebrated his “ampuversary”, March 19, every single year.
His regular scans and tests kept coming back clear and his vet team viewed him as their miracle. We relaxed a bit and marveled at his recovery.
We lost Shadow suddenly on the morning of May 7, 2026 at 7 years old.
We had no indication this was coming. He’d been racing around the house wrestling with his American Eskimo brother, Comet, the day before, had a full dinner that evening, and cuddled on the couch with us during tv like every other night.
That next morning, he woke up in distress. We got him to the vet immediately, but there was nothing that could be done. He had a large mass on his spleen that was bleeding. The hemangiosarcoma had returned with a vengeance. With no time to even absorb the reality, we had to let him go.
In Honor of Shadow, the Hemangiosarcoma Miracle Corgi
Some of you may recognize Shadow the Corgi, as I have shared his story with this group and participated in the forum over the years.
I didn’t intend to wait this long to write this, but I honestly couldn’t bring myself to do it before. I’m barely able to now. But this group is about sharing the highs and the lows, the emotions, the tips and experiences. So, in honor of Shadow, I share this final chapter.
Someone asked me shortly after his passing if it was harder to lose a pet suddenly or to know it was coming.
On one hand, I am very grateful that we weren’t worrying and watching his every move, running him to the vet and then forced to choose when it was “time.” Shadow saved us from all that.
On the other hand, his distress came completely out of the blue, from waking up to him being gone in just over an hour. That speed was truly a tragedy for our family. It has left us very raw.
We get peace from the fact that he didn’t have long periods of suffering. And for that, I suppose sudden is better. Maybe not for our emotions, but for him. And that’s what matters most overall.
So as we revel in the Corgi we called Shadow, here are some of the memories that make me smile:
The way he learned to howl because Comet did
The way he grew to appreciate a long pee on three legs…who needs to lift a leg!
The way he came running every time he heard the ice maker
The way he ran to his dinner spot, eager, polite, but with drool flying out
The way he instigated Comet to join him in chasing the neighbor dogs along the fence line
The way close wasn’t good enough when he sat or lay next to you. He needed full body contact.
The way he would barrel down the stairs from where he slept with our daughter when we yelled “Release the meteor!”
The way his belly was squishy, pink and warm when he rolled on his back for belly rubs
The way he splooted, staring intently at our every move while we made his meals
The way he grew to appreciate his stroller rides as much as a walk
The way he would literally scream with excitement to greet us when we came home, even if we’d only been gone an hour
The way he approached each day with glee
We share his Tripawd story with you all. We are grateful for all the support from this forum. It has been a blessing. Shadow was a blessing.
We hope his story gives others hope. He was our hero. We learned from how he lived his best bubby life every day and we are better people because of him.
Thank you Linda, for sharing such a beautiful and hopeful story about your miracle boy. We will miss him dearly around here.
And for anyone who is interested, she is also generously donating a few of his items, including a doggy stroller, to member of our community. Hop on over to the Tripawds Angel Exchange for details.