Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Remembering Harlem

Although this blog is Jenna's, I want to write a post about my Labrador, Harlem, because I've been thinking about him a lot lately. I got Har when I was 16 years old. We grew up together. I took him with me when I went to university and moved out on my own, so we were together for his whole life.

Harlem was one of those dogs who you find once in a lifetime. He was a sweetheart and a gentleman, but he seemed to know when to pretend he wasn't. He was a tall, rangy, solid black, 95-pound gigantor of a dog, and he had an enormous, booming bark that he only rarely employed.

My big dog was well behaved, well adjusted, sweet, cuddly, intelligent, and eager to please. He loved cats. He loved to swim. He loved the sunshine. He brought a lot of sunshine to my life, especially in the darkest times. He was a leaner and a hugger and a magnificent bed-hog. I loved him like a son.

He died of cancer on February 4th, 2008, just 2 months before his 10th birthday. He had histiocytic sarcoma - a rare type of cancer. It spread through his body with incredible speed. It was less than a month from diagnosis to the end of his life. I didn't do chemo for him. The vets did not have very positive things to say about the treatability of this type of cancer. Reported survival times, even with chemo, were still poor. At the time, I decided that putting him through chemo wasn't worth the suffering it would cause him for the off chance that it might buy him a month or two. But now that I see how great Jenna's doing, how the chemo has basically given her back her health, I wonder if I made the right decision with Harlem. Even if it didn't buy him much time, what if chemo would've made him feel better, as it has for Jenna? Back then, I envisioned vomiting, lethargy, and anorexia. I didn't know it could be like this.

These are self-torturing thoughts, of course, and they won't do me any good. And I feel guilty about being sad about this when Jenna is doing so wonderfully. But I can't make these thoughts vanish, and in quiet moments, they sneak up on me even though I am trying to ignore them.

3 comments:

LSF said...

You can't do that to yourself... but them again, I am the last person who should say that. My Watson passed away in a very short time between diagnosis and death (about a month). I still debate my decision to do chemo. I was hoping to buy him more time, but really I should have just let him be.

The truth is - we don't know. And we make the best decisions we can with the information we have. And I am sure, absolutely sure, that Harley told you what he wanted in his own way. But you can't compare Jenna's situation with his. It's just not fair to any of you to do so.

Hugs,
Linda

Anonymous said...

Don't beat yourself up - it sounds like you did just the right thing for Harlem. Not all dogs respoind as well to chemo as Jenna(Prince as an example), and of course, Lymphoma is a type of cancer that does generally respond well.

Hope you're all OK.....

Anonymous said...

I have the same feelings with my decision to put Hansel down but as one of the other commenters said, you can't know what the right decision was, you just have to make the best decision given the information you have, largely based on your vets advice. I'm sure these thoughts will plague you for a while but after 6 years since Hansel's death the second guessing and guilt is fading.