Our Great Pyrenees Emmett came to our attention by chance, as my husband Scott was browsing through the newspaper. In the classifieds, he saw a photo of this white dog with big brown eyes at the Clearwater Humane Society. Not long before, we had lost our adopted female Kuvasz Sally to cancer at a young age, and our adopted male Kuvasz Bear was desolate. Emmett had been rescued two weeks earlier by those wonderful people in Orofino. Although we did not see him at his worst, he weighed around 80 pounds (normal weight should be 125 pounds), had lost much of his hair, and had been neglected and abused. At approximately 2-4 years of age (no one was quite sure), it was a miracle he was still alive—found tied up to an old junker car in the August heat with no water and no attention.

We took Bear out to Emmett’s foster home to see what would happen. I thought to myself, “this is never going to work. Two big male white guard dog breeds, even if both have been fixed, will not get along.” But we did know three things: (1) Bear, despite his 125 pounds and rather fierce countenance, was actually a marshmallow. Sally had bossed him around for years and he was perfectly happy to defer to her. (2) Bear was also a rescue who spent a lot of time alone, and was starved for attention when we took him into our care. He knew what it was like to be abused. (3) Emmett was a very mellow, sweet-natured dog, who got along with all of the other dogs in foster care.

Bear’s initial reaction to Emmett, as expected, was intense fear and growling. He remained leashed the entire time. Emmett’s reaction was calm curiosity. Emmett moved very slowly and made no attempt to meet Bear’s eyes or otherwise startle him. After ten minutes of petting Emmett as Bear watched, Bear lay down on the ground just feet away and so did Emmett. Scott was convinced they would get along perfectly, so I told him to go get Emmett the next day. The rest is history. Remarkably, it was an instant friendship between these two giant dogs. They became closer and closer as each day passed.

Emmett was not without his share of issues. He came to us very underweight and it took a couple of years to actually get him up to an acceptable weight. His coat was coarse and thin with bare patches, but eventually became full and soft. He had hip dysplasia and developed a kidney condition with pancreatitis that required prescription dog food. But what was most remarkable was that this dog, who had no known training, affection or socialization for the first 2 to 4 years of his life, and who had been abused and beaten, was the gentlest dog we had ever met. There was not a mean bone in his body, nor was he fearful of anyone or anything. He walked on a leash without pulling, was gentle with small children and the elderly, was friendly to cats and birds and whatever other creatures happened to cross his path, and adored his new family without reservation. We were fortunate enough to be able to take our dogs to the office with us and Emmett on occasion would sneak out into the entry and act as the official greeter—the UPS man, friends and clients alike could not leave without first petting him.

Emmett unfortunately lost Bear to old age in 2008, and his depression was evident. We knew he needed a companion, but wondered whether foisting a puppy on him at 7 or 8 years of age would be a bit much. After much consideration, we picked up our male Kuvasz puppy, Mowgli. You could tell Emmett was thrilled and horrified at the same time. He would look at us as if to say, “Did you really have to get me a puppy that I now have to train?” After tolerating puppyhood for many months, Emmett gently but firmly laid down the law and Mowgli’s puppy permit was revoked. The relationship eased into a big brother-little brother relationship. Mowgli kept Emmett young—they played often and Emmett was happy once again.

Scott recognized that Emmett also had a unique attraction to the elderly. On walks, he would gravitate toward anyone with grey hair and pull Scott on the leash (very unusual for Emmett). Scott started taking Emmett to the nursing home once a week. It was fulfilling for Emmett and for the residents, who loved this big white dog whose gentle demeanor never scared them. They could hug and pet Emmett as much as they wanted and he loved it. They did not have to lean down to pet him; they could pet him from their bed. We would dress him up in silly holiday hats and bows for his visits, and he would wear them until we took them off.

In May 2009, Emmett started holding up his right rear leg, not wanting to put any weight on it. We thought it was his hip giving him trouble, and dreaded the diagnosis. We knew that at his age and with his kidney condition (which had improved but was still a constant concern), hip replacement surgery was not an option. He was in obvious pain and not at all his usually happy self, nor was he eating much.

The diagnosis was even worse than we expected—osteosarcoma in the hock (right distal tibia), a fatal diagnosis. From previous experience, we knew that the ordinary course of metastatic bone cancer is rapid and brutally painful for the animal. Luckily, we caught it early because Dr. Kim Heezen of Ferdinand Vet made the correct diagnosis immediately. “Dr. Kim,” as we call her, referred “Mr. Emmett” (as she called him) to the WSU College of Veterinary Medicine for further testing and treatment.

We were lucky enough to meet Dr. Christie Anderson, WSU Medical Oncology Resident. Realizing that surgery was out of the question, as was a full course of radiation and chemotherapy, we all agreed that a course of palliative radiation of the leg was the first step, assuming Emmett could tolerate it. The hope was that Emmett could live another 4 to 6 months pain-free, if he did not break the leg and the cancer did not spread aggressively to other parts of his body sooner. The blood work for Emmett not only showed that he could tolerate the radiation, but that he was otherwise in very good health (even his kidneys whose levels were now normal).

Not surprisingly, Emmett stole the hearts of a number of people at the clinic. Upon meeting Dr. Anderson, he walked over and laid his head in her lap (getting drool all over her file), as if to say “I’m in your hands and I trust you.” Although Emmett did not like the poking and prodding much, he certainly liked all the attention. He underwent two series of palliative radiation treatments in June, and in a matter of days was back to walking on the leg and relatively pain-free. He began to eat again, and this time there was no prescription kidney diet for him! Knowing his favorite foods were cheese pizza and spaghetti with meat sauce, Emmett became accustomed to having his dog food covered with people food at each meal. And he now got to eat the same dog food Mowgli was eating—none of this low-fat, tasteless food for him. Within weeks, for the first time in his life Emmett was almost at his optimal weight (and not slightly underweight). He was milking this being sick thing for all it was worth! He got to lay down to eat and at times required a bit of hand feeding of the first few bites before he would eat directly from his bowl. He would stand in the kitchen at night and demand another dog cookie, or two, or three, until he was satiated.

Of course, with the radiation therapy came a regimen of pain pills, given three times a day, as well as Metacam and glucosamine for the arthritis and hip dysplasia. Emmett did not mind this, because his pills were always served covered with peanut butter.

As the weeks passed, we kept having to remind ourselves that Emmett had bone cancer—he was not limping, he loved his daily walks and could go for many blocks without any apparent discomfort, he was eating like a pig, and he was back to playing with Mowgli and romping around the yard.

Originally, Dr. Anderson predicted that the palliative radiation would eliminate most of Emmett’s leg pain for 4-8 weeks, and then we’d have to consider another round. But weeks turned into months. Our new goal was to have Emmett with us to enjoy Thanksgiving turkey, stuffing and gravy! Follow-up X-rays by Dr. Heezen in November revealed that the osteosarcoma had not grown noticeably, and that the bone actually looked a bit better than the prior X-ray before radiation. In addition, the leg was much less inflamed and Emmett’s blood work was great (except for slightly high cholesterol, which we suspected was due to the cheese pizza-pasta-vanilla yogurt-peanut butter “prescription” diet).

The roller coaster ride continued, however, when Emmett came up lame on his right leg after running around in the yard. We feared the worst. A visit to Dr. Kim revealed that this time Emmett had injured his knee—partially torn his cruciate ligament. We upped his pain meds and hoped for the best. Gradually, the knee became less painful and Emmett returned to his daily routine of walks, although he romped around the yard a bit less than before. Yet another reprieve for our gentle giant.

In late December, we took Emmett back to Dr. Anderson for new scans to check on the course of his cancer, with particular focus on the lungs. The thoracic radiographs showed multiple nodules that were consistent with pulmonary metastatic disease (that is, the cancer had spread to the lungs). Dr. Anderson recommended low-dose chemo in an attempt to slow down or arrest the growth of the cancer. We decided to think about it over the Christmas holiday and discussed it with Dr. Kim. We had sworn we would never put a dog through chemotherapy. We enjoyed another Christmas with Emmett, which we had not thought possible just 7 months ago.

After much consideration and some research of our own, we decided to pursue chemotherapy in the form of low-dose Lomustine. As Dr. Anderson and Dr. Heezen predicted, Emmett tolerated the chemo very well (just one capsule a day at bed time), and we just added it to his daily regimen. He did not show any signs of feeling more ill. We were able to start taking Emmett back to the nursing home and he had been sorely missed there.

Weeks again passed by and the weather began to warm up, improving Emmett’s ability to go on long walks and romp around the yard with Mowgli. The cold weather was hard on his old bones and joints. He continued to eat like a pig and his energy level was still quite high into late February. We had yet another scare in early March when Emmett hyper-extended his left ankle running in the yard, a severe sprain, which required a wrap for more than a week. We had to limit his ability to run and his daily walks had to be stopped. This made him grumpy, but we could not afford for him to put too much weight on the right leg with the osteosarcoma to compensate for the sprained left ankle. We began very short walks 8 days after his ankle sprain, which gradually increased to 3 or 4 blocks. Emmett was once again happy—his walks had always been the highlight of his day. Yet another reprieve from the inevitable!

In the end, Emmett’s departure from this earth was sudden. On March 14th, Emmett & Mowgli had their morning walk, ate breakfast, and enjoyed a nice day out in the yard. The weather was warm, even though it had snowed just days before. Emmett collapsed on the deck that afternoon and was gone in minutes. The final blessing in our odyssey with Emmett was that we never had to make the final decision to put him to sleep—it was made for us quickly and decisively. We like to think that Emmett was allowed to live for so many months after his diagnosis, happy and mostly pain-free, because if any dog deserved it he did. We were given the chance to spoil him rotten for 10 months before he left us. Hopefully, he and Bear are running around somewhere up there in heaven together, feeling no pain.

Scott & Vicki O.