Meet Honey, This is the poor soul Dumaguete Animal Sanctuary rescued today. Honey was dumped in severe condition with the biggest tumor on her face. She was in discomfort for a long time since she was swollen and infected.
” We are with her now at Animal Wellness getting X-rays to find out if this mass is treatable. Her early blood tests revealed that her organs were working OK, but she is anemic. She was also found to have heartworm.
They will put her on anti-inflammatory for 2 weeks and also work on raising her red blood cell count. She will then require surgery and chemotherapy. She stands a high chance of living a regular, happy life!
She need to do surgery to remove the mass, followed by chemo if it is cancerous. Given the position of the tumour, surgeons will need to do the procedure at Animal Wellness, where they have gas anaesthetic, giving Honey the highest chance of survival.
Her red blood cell count is still low after 15 days in the center, therefore she will have a transfusion. Hopefully, surgery will be performed soon after.
“Day 17: Honey’s operation has just begun. Just before she was sedated, she was photographed with Rina and Rudylyn. We will do the procedure at Animal Wellness since gas anaesthesia is safer for more serious instances. Because the tumor is so close to her brain, the procedure will be lengthy and complicated.
Day 19: Honey’s surgery was as successful as it could be given that the tumor had grown around so many of her facial and optical nerves. Unfortunately, the nerves controlling her left eyelid had to be severed, leaving her with a little droop.
The tumor was huge, and as a result the surgical wound is large. She is eating chicken which is a good sign. She will be able to live a normal life even without it. She is already eating on her own, but her face is still swollen from the operation and inflammation, so doctors are hopeful she will eat more once that subsides.
She is still in the very early stages of recovery from such an invasive surgery, and each day she survives without complications, is a blessing. She made it through the procedure!!! Honey is still deemed critical, but she is awake and breathing.
“We just had the results of Honey’s tumor biopsied and unfortunately it’s malignant. Doxorubicin is the most effective chemotherapy treatment for the type of cancer she has. We must act quickly to halt the spread of any cancer that may still be present in Honey’s system.”
She hadaother tumor in her vagina but the amazing news is that the tumor in her vagina has shrunk by 60 percent since she started chemo and she has only had two sessions so far.
After more than 3 months, she’s gaining weight and is generally in good spirits despite being on chemo. Her prognosis is still uncertain because chemo affects the organs, but we are confident she will recover completely.
The pet I’ll never forget: Ella the puppy threw up on me, snubbed me and after 10 years decided to love me
Mum, Dad, my brother Michael: everyone in the family got more affection from our ridgeback-staffie cross. And guess whose bed she used to poo on…
I think the tone was set when Ella threw up over me on the way back from the Dogs Trust. She was three months old, rolling around on the back seat between me and my twin brother, Michael (we’d just turned seven), and wasn’t enjoying her first trip in a car. She could have been sick anywhere – over the seat, over the floor – but for some reason she decided to climb on to me first.
It was the start of a beautiful but strangely one-sided friendship. Ella, a ridgeback-staffie cross, was the perfect dog: playful, energetic, naughty and tolerant. She would let us poke and prod her without complaint, turn her ears inside-out or dress her up in T-shirts or the thick woollen poncho my Greek Cypriot grandma knitted her for the British winter. And she was endlessly loving, at least to the other members of the family. Me? Too often it was as if I didn’t exist. If Michael and I were sitting on the sofa, she’d bound up to him. If I came home after a day out with my dad, he was the one she’d jump at. If I tried to take her for a walk by myself, she’d drag her feet and insist that I fetch my brother.
To add insult to injury, about once a year she would do a poo in the house. Not just anywhere, though: she’d climb the stairs to my room and leave it in a neat pile on top of my bed.
I can’t pretend I wasn’t offended by Ella’s attitude – I loved her just as much as anyone. But it took me a while to realise that in her eyes we were both bitches fighting for our place in the pack. I read that dogs are 98.8% wolf, even yappy little chihuahuas. Ella was a definite she-wolf and my mother (she who opened the tin of dog food every night) was the undisputed alpha female. Ella could handle that fact, but she didn’t want to be the omega female. That was me.
Working out the reasons for Ella’s lack of sisterhood, understanding that her indifference was atavistic and not just casual, didn’t make me any less jealous of my brother, who always took great pleasure in the fact that Ella seemed to prefer him. But I resigned myself to the situation. And then one day (happy ending, anyone?) everything changed. I must have been 16 or 17, we’d been away for a fortnight in France, and when we got back it was me she ran up to first, whining and twisting with pleasure at seeing me again. After that it was like all those years of competition had never happened. We were best friends for ever, or at least for the couple of years she had left. Ella finally loved me.
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