It has been one week since Jabba-bear crossed the Rainbow Bridge.
We are slowly adjusting to life without him. Beyonce deeply misses her companion. Now, she can be found curled up in a tight ball on Jabba-bear’s side of the couch, her head pressed gently against his favorite arm rest where he used to perch, gazing out the front door, paws dangling over the back of the couch.
Thank you for all of the love and support that you have sent our way over the past week. Thank you for sharing your touching stories with us; we were moved by the raw emotion in your words.
We felt that it was appropriate to honor Jabba-bear by sharing some of our favorite photos from the past 4 years. What follows is a small tribute to our sweet boy:
Jabba-bear at his birthplace (a farm in Yadkinville, NC) the second time we met him.
Jabba-bear’s first bath in his new homeJabba-bear being cradled by his aunt Joanne after his bath
Jabba-bear keeping his mom company as she studied for a Molecular Neuroscience exam. He was such a good boy!Jabba-bear liked to bite feet when he was a puppy (perhaps this was because his first “toy” was an old sandal that belonged to his mom).Jabba-bear sleeping in his first bed during the crate-training phase. Note: This bed lasted about 2 weeks before he completely destroyed it…Jabba-bear playing in his first snowJabba-bear sleeping peacefully on his couch, which he much preferred to the crate!When Jabba-bear first met his older sister, Xena, the Italian Greyhound, they were the same size. Xena, being older and wiser, was dominant to Jabba-bear. He quickly learned to play gently with her and was always good with small dogs.Jabba-bear’s graduation from puppy school. Many thanks to his fantastic trainer, Geralyn Kelly!Jabba-bear as a Teenager. In this photo, he was still developing what would eventually become his classic “goofy smile”.Licking his lips! Jabba-bear practicing the art of begging for more foodJabba-bear rocking his mom’s sunglasses. What a cool dog! This photo was taken during his rebellious phase….clearly.Jabba-bear demanding to drive his mom’s V8 mustang convertible. He hopped into the driver’s seat when she stepped out of the car to run a quick errand.Jabba and his dad at the Blue Ridge ParkwayJababa and his mom at the Blue Ridge ParkwayFather and son. Goofy smiles galore!Jabba in the backseat of his dad’s carJabba-bear sporting a gorgeous sweater that his maternal grandma bought him for ChristmasThis photo was taken shortly after Jabba-bear’s amputation (step 1 in his battle against osteosarcoma). As usual, he was all smiles!After the amputation, Jabba-bear still kept his mom company in her office as she studied.A couple of weeks after Jabba’s amputation, the incision site became infected, and we were forced to make him wear an E-collar. In this photo, yes-he may be wearing the “cone of shame”, but have you ever seen such a ridiculously happy dog???It was a big deal when Jabba-bear re-learned how to jump on the couch (post-amputation).Eventually we put Jabba-bear in a T-shirt because he broke 2 “cones” (he was clumsy like his mom). In this photo, Jabba excitedly rushes to the door when he sees his maternal grandpawrents’ car out front.Jabba-bear asleep on the floor at his maternal grandpawrents’ house in Florida. He developed temporary vitiligo as a side-effect of the chemotherapy (notice his pink lips and nose).Jabba-bear in August 2011Jabba-bear after the Cure Search walk. You can see how he has adapted his sitting posture after the amputation.Happy Jabba-bear on his couch
Jabba-bear playing with his friend Mufasa while Beyonce sleeps in the backgroundIn this photo, Jabba-bear takes “studying with his mom” to a whole new level! He stole the book from her to learn more about the sense of touch.Jabba shows how much he loves neuroscience by devouring the jello brain mold his mom made for a school activity. Note: Jabba’s mom was not intending to feed this to him; she was showing it to her sister, and Jabba-bear jumped off the bed to chomp down on it.Jabba resting in a patch of sunlight in his backyard. He was finally able to enjoy the weather after his first major haircut!Jabba-bear and his “big” sister, Xena, looking out the front door windowJabba-bear on his perchAn “abstract” cartoon of Jabba-bear. Jabba’s dad drew this on a dry erase board in the kitchen when Jabba was a teenager. After Jabba’s amputation, we erased his back left leg.
On Saturday, April 6th, Jabba-bear passed away peacefully at Oldtown Veterinary Hospital in the loving presence of his mom and dad.
Friday morning, we gave Jabba-bear a few doses of Tramadol in hopes of alleviating some of his pain. It seemed to help quiet his labored breathing -he had been altering between healthy pants, small squeaks, and a honking sound that was reminiscent of a child with a very bad lung infection. You could hear a rattling sound in his lungs. Although he was clearly struggling, Jabba-bear was still very much aware of his surroundings. He still had a happy glean in his eye and would wag his tail in our presence, attempting to roll over for a belly-rub. Later that day, we took Jabba-bear back to Reynolda Village for a short walk. It was a glorious day (a pleasant surprise considering the tumultuous, apocalyptic weather that we experienced on Thursday-snow, sleet, hail, rain, etc.). Jabba-bear didn’t make it very far. He found a cool patch of ivy to lay in. We placed a blanket on the ground and sat with him for a while, petting him, allowing him to soak up the sun, while watching passersby with their pups. Jabba didn’t feel like making new friends that day, but he seemed to offer a knowing nod to the dogs as they walked past us.
Jabba-bear at Reynolda Village.
A close up of our beautiful boy.
Soon, Jabba was ready to go back to the car. He loves the car, especially his dad’s fast BMW. We drove around town, stopping for pizza from 2 different restaurants. We ordered a total of 4 thick-crust pizza pies, smothered with cheese, bacon, and pepperoni (Jabba’s favorite). Then, Jabba’s dad went to the grocery store and bought cupcakes, donuts, bacon, turkey pepperoni, premium Nathan’s hot dogs, and sliced turkey (from the deli). That night, we decided to celebrate Jabba’s life by lifting the no-carb ban and allowing him to eat all the “junk food” he desired. When we got home, Jabba eagerly devoured 2 pieces of pizza and snacked for the rest of the night on various goodies.
After midnight, his breathing became extremely erratic. Jabba’s mom sat up next to him, placed her hands on his side and sang to him, whispering the words “quiet, quiet, quiet” while attempting to transfer all the loving, healing energy in her body to him, through her touch. As hokey as that may sound, it actually seemed to work. Jabba-bear soon fell asleep and started dreaming-his front two legs twitching periodically and his ears flicking with delight. Several times throughout the night, Jabba-bear sat up and cried out loud. He was uncomfortable. Maybe it was all the pizza? At one point, he did let out an impressive belch before collapsing on his side, content, and falling back asleep. By 5 AM, Jabba’s discomfort was wearing on both of us, and we called the emergency vet (Carolina Veterinary Specialists) to schedule his euthanasia. We told Beyonce to prepare herself to say “goodbye” to her brother. She responded by letting out a blood curling howl and then grabbing her lamb chop chew toy and throwing it in the air, settling next to Jabba’s head, with her paws on his front legs. As soon as we hung up the phone, Jabba-bear seemed to stabilize. After 10 minutes, we cancelled the appointment, deciding to try and “hold out” for Jabba’s primary vet (Oldtown Veterinary Hospital)-we had already scheduled an appointment for 9:20 AM on Saturday. In an effort to distract ourselves from the impending doom that consumed us, we watched “All Dogs go to Heaven” on Netflix. When it finished, we still had nearly two hours until our appointment at Oldtown. Jabba seemed to be resting comfortably with his dad on the floor of the living room. We had surrounded him with pillows, propping him up until we found a position that allowed him to breathe more easily.
Shortly before it was time to leave for the vet, Jabba’s paternal grandpawrents arrived to say “goodbye” to their favorite grandson. In the background, we played the Lion King soundtrack to comfort Jabba-bear (it was a trick that had worked in the past). At this point, we were all very emotional. Even though we were dreading this final moment, it also came as a relief since we knew that soon Jabba-bear would no longer be suffering. We fed Jabba-bear hot dogs for breakfast, and his dad cooked him half a package of thick bacon to feed to him in the car ride to the vet. Jabba savored every bite. On our way, we sang Hanunka Matata and I Just Can’t Wait to be King, and Jabba-bear stuck his head out the window, as he so loved to do. He closed his eyes and enjoyed some final good sniffs.
Jabba-bear in the car, so serious.Looking toward the light.Finally at peace.
Note: the above photos were taken the day before, during our trip around town. We thought they were symbolic of Jabba’s transition to heaven.
When we got to the vet, Jabba-bear let us know that he was ready to go. He normally rushes to hide behind a chair (or in the corner) when the vet-techs enter the room to take him to the back. On this day, he laid on the floor, gasping for air. He was not scared. He just seemed tired of fighting. There was no question that we were doing the right thing. When the time came, they lifted Jabba-bear onto a table. He faced a painting on the wall- a well trodden path through the forest. It reminded us of our trip to Pilot Mountain. Perhaps Jabba could pass away thinking that he was back on the trail, climbing the mountain. 3 injections later (1 flush, 1 sedative, 1 dose of a pinkish euthanasia liquid), and Jabba-bear had passed. The staff at Oldtown were compassionate and completely professional. They helped ease the difficulty of the situation. We are, and always will be, extremely grateful to them.
Jabba’s food bowl. His paternal grandpawrents placed this beautiful flower in his bowl while we were at the vet. It was a sweet touch.
Friday night was extremely difficult for us, but we were deeply touched by the incredible support that we received from so many of you in the Tripawds community. Thank you.
Thank you, not only for your support, but also for taking the time to read our posts. Writing this blog over the past several weeks has been extremely cathartic for us.
We hope that you find value in what we have written about our journey with Jabba-bear. We are happy to answer any questions that you may have, now or at a later date.
It is with a heavy heart that we share this news: Jabba’s condition has taken a rapid turn for the worse.
Yesterday morning (April 4th), while lying in bed, petting Jabba-bear, his mom noticed a lump inside his upper right lip.
We took him the vet in the afternoon, preparing ourselves to hear bad news, but hoping, nonetheless, that it would be a benign gum abscess (after all, Jabba-bear’s teeth were well over due for a cleaning). Later that evening, Jabba’s doctor called to confirm that it was, unfortunately, metastatic osteosarcoma; the nodule was emanating from his jaw bone, not his gum. We were worried because the tumor literally appeared overnight, suggesting that it was quite aggressive. Jabba’s doctor reassured us that against all odds, Jabba seemed to be doing fine; he was not showing any signs of pain. However, she did warn us that his condition could turn on a dime. . . She said that the lump could stay the same size for a month or more, but if the cancer started to spread to his sinuses, she would have to recommend that we put him down. She reminded us that the goal was to preserve Jabba’s quality of life. And we agreed.
After Jabba’s brush with death in January, we decided that we would seriously discuss his “end of life plan” if it became clear that he was no longer interested in food. If there is one thing that motivates Jabba-bear, it is food. . . of any sort (but pizza, peanut butter, and steak are his favorites!). This morning, Jabba didn’t get up for breakfast. When he heard the sound of kibble rattling inside Beyonce’s bowl, he slowly hobbled to the kitchen. We filled his bowl with his Hill’s n/d Prescription diet and placed it in the bedroom, closing the door to give him privacy. We checked on him 10 minutes later, and he hadn’t touched the food, save to spread some of it around the bowl on the floor. We tried feeding Jabba by hand, while petting him. He ate a very small amount. We tried feeding him kibble, again by hand. He ate a few morsels. We asked him if he wanted to go for a walk. He went to the door, but then laid down in the front yard, barely taking 10 steps. At this point, our hearts bursting with sadness, we began to have that dreaded talk about the logistics of Jabba’s euthanasia.
Jabba-bear this morning (April 5, 2013). He has little to no appetite, and his energy level is very low.
We decided to give him one more day. We took him back to Reynolda Village and laid with him on a blanket, petting him as a cool breeze ran through his fur. Jabba’s dad took him for a car ride all around town, and Jabba made a valiant effort to stick his nose out the window for some good sniffs (he seemed to perk up a bit when we passed a shopping strip full of fast food joints). Tonight, we will have a pizza party, and we will spend the evening holding him, loving him, saying our goodbyes.
We don’t want Jabba-bear to suffer any more than he has already. He is now having a lot of trouble breathing. Every few breaths, he lets out a small cry, like he did the day after his lobectomy. It is absolutely gut wrenching to see him like this. His fight, although well-fought, might be drawing to an end.
We have an appointment scheduled with the vet for tomorrow morning. We are still not sure what will happen.
Thank you for all of your support during these difficult times.
Simply put. Beyonce adores Jabba-bear. Animals have amazing intuition. Over the past few weeks, Beyonce has grown closer and closer to Jabba-bear (both physically and emotionally). Several times we have seen her affectionately licking the incision site from his lobectomy. In our opinion, this action could serve one of two functions: (1) she is trying to heal Jabba-bear, using her sweet saliva (which we half believe contains “magical” regenerative compounds, since, despite being one of the clumsiest dogs in the world, Beyonce never gets hurt…EVER), or (2) she is attempting to remove Jabba’s cancer with her own bare teeth!
The following photographs illustrate Beyonce’s eternal affection for Jabba-bear (her hero):
Beyonce resting comfortably on Jabba-bear (he looks like a pillow). Beyonce couldn’t be more at peace!Beyonce curling up with Jabba-bear on the way to Horizon’s Dog Park (Saturday, March 30, 2013)After several hours of exercise, both Beyonce and Jabba were exhausted…but happy!As soon as the car started moving, Beyonce resumed her “normal” position of cuddling Jabba-bear.
On Friday March 15th, Jabba-bear went for a short drive across town to Reynolda Gardens, where he frolicked freely in the fields.
Jabba briefly explored the trails surrounding the Reynolda house, but he was more interested in meeting new friends (Reynolda Village is a popular dog-walking attraction). We laid down in the grass for a while and basked in the sunlight, enjoying every moment of the bright, beautiful weather. It was clear that Spring had finally arrived!
The following pictures highlight Jabba-bear at his finest:
Jabba-bear resting in the field in front of the Reynolda House.Look at that Big Goofy Smile!
Did someone say the word “Treat“?What a handsome profile.
That afternoon, when we got home, Beyonce welcomed Jabba-bear by licking his ears profusely (until they “stood up” on their own). We have to recognize that Beyonce has been extremely tolerant of all the extra attention Jabba-bear has been receiving over the past few weeks. She genuinely seems to understand what is happening to her beloved brother and best friend.
Later that evening, Jabba’s breathing pattern became noticeably irregular. He seemed to be wheezing more than normal, gasping for air. But, we rationalized it as a side-effect from the lobectomy, telling ourselves that Jabba-bear was still adjusting to his smaller lung capacity. He still seemed eager to go for walks and to protect the neighborhood from the “evil” man in uniform who approaches the house each day with stacks of oddly shaped paper in his hands, leaving them in a box on the front porch. Disclaimer: the mailman is not evil by any means, but Jabba-bear has never taken a liking to him. As a result, the mailman probably thinks that Jabba is the Godzilla of dogs (a 180 pound guard dog that would rip his throat out if given the opportunity). I wonder what he would do if he realized that the source of the now familiar earth-shattering growl was really a 50 pound fur ball with 3 legs. . .
Three weeks after Jabba’s lobectomy to remove a large portion of his metastatic osteosarcoma, he was given a “bill of good health”, at least a temporary one. At this point, we decided to put Jabba back on metronomic therapy (i.e., frequent, low doses of chemotherapy) since he had tolerated it well for such a long time (almost 2 years!).
We started giving him cyclophosphamide (9 mg), the primary chemotherapy drug, first, since we still had a full bottle of it leftover from January. Note: Jabba’s doctors told us to withhold chemotherapy until he had sufficiently recovered from his surgery because these potent drugs that attack rapidly dividing cancer cells may prevent or limit wound healing (at the cellular level, the active ingredients in the pill cannot distinguish between a growing tumor and healthy tissue regeneration-it kills them both).
We debated putting Jabba-bear back on Palladia (50 mg) because of the sheer expense ($323.85 for 30 pills), but we eventually gave in and ordered the pills. Note: Jabba had previously been taking 70 mg of Palladia, but, since he lost a significant amount of weight prior to the lobectomy, we adjusted his dose accordingly. Although it should have been slightly higher (closer to 60 mg), we decided that we would start with the 50 mg capsule.
Because indigestion is one side effect of the metronomic therapy, Jabba-bear also receives 10 mg Pepcid or a generic anti-acid 2x daily. We still catch him eating grass occasionally though, which suggests that his stomach is not entirely settled.
In summary, Jabba-bear currently receives cyclophosphamaide and Palladia after breakfast on alternating days. He also takes 10-20 mg of Pepcid per day depending on his symptoms. In addition, Jabba-bear is still taking Prednisone (20 mg), which serves two purposes: (1) to help reduce any residual swelling in his joints from the lobectomy and/or systemic inflammatory reaction to the metastatic osteosarcoma, and (2) to keep his temperature in the normal range (it is currently hovering in the high 102 degrees Fahrenheit).
As you can probably imagine, Jabba-bear has accumulated quite the extensive collection of drugs in his “medicine cabinet”. In addition to his metronomic therapy, he also has a stash of pain medicine (Tramadol), various antibiotics, metronidazole (for diarrhea), heartworm medicine, flea medicine, etc.
Jabba-bear’s medicine cabinet. Also shown in the above image is his thermometer which we used frequently to monitor his persistent fever and his jar of Royal Treats.
Jabba-bear is very good about taking his medicine. We have a nice system worked out. Every morning after breakfast, Jabba’s mom says, “time for your medicine, sweet prince”, and Jabba runs to the kitchen, drool spilling from his bottom lip, because to him, medicine = a tablespoon of peanut butter.
Jabba-bear’s drug delivery system. Peanut butter, disposable knife, and medicine!
The disposable, plastic knife is a good tool for delivering the chemotherapy drugs because it is not a good idea to touch them with your bare hands (as they are toxic!!!), and the knife is not too sharp, so Jabba can successfully lick off the peanut butter without hurting himself.
Jabba getting his daily dose of medicine after breakfast. He gobbles it up with delight!
Overall, Jabba-bear seems to be doing pretty well on metronomic therapy. However, it is important to acknowledge that we are fighting a losing battle. The metronomic therapy will not cure Jabba-bear. His metastatic disease is serious and quite aggressive. . . At best, this combination of medication will slow the progression of his cancer. Maybe it is working? Today marks 6 weeks since his lobectomy! We are blessed to have had him so long. We are not in denial about the gravity of Jabba-bear’s situation, and we recognize that the choices we made to prolong his life may not be viable options for everyone (we have accumulated a significant amount of debt over the past 3 months). Nevertheless, we hope that some people may find this information useful. Thank you, once again, for your support.
When Jabba-bear was diagnosed with metastatic osteosarcoma, we vowed to do everything we could to ensure that whatever time we had left with him was well-spent. Unfortunately, doctors orders prevented us from doing anything really fun with Jabba for at least two weeks after his surgery (although we bent the rules a bit and took him on some very short walks since he begged for them). Once Jabba-bear was deemed healthy enough to resume normal activity, we promised to take him for daily walks (as long as he had enough energy), to schedule regular play dates with his friends, to give him as much steak and cheese as he wanted, to shower him with new plush toys (which would inevitably end up as a pile of shredded animal parts, loose thread, and stuffing within seconds), and we promised to take him for weekly adventures so that he could live out his Bucket List.
Our first adventure occurred two days after Jabba-bear had the staples from his lobectomy removed (on Saturday, March 9th). Early that morning, we asked Jabba-bear if he wanted to go for a hike. He responded by initiating a very excited happy dance (i.e., rapid fire stomping of his two front legs: pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter patter), which we interpreted as a resounding, “YES!”. So, we decided to take Jabba to Pilot Mountain, where he could run free, off-leash and scale the mountain at his own pace.
Jabba-baar had a wonderful time at Pilot Mountain that day. He definitely exceeded our expectations. He must have hiked close to 2 miles (of his own volition); his endurance was remarkable. We were so happy to see him climbing the mountain, wandering off occasionally, but never straying to far from his pawrents, yet we recognized that this may be his last climb.
The following pictures and videos capture the fun that we shared on our trip to Pilot Mountain:
Jabba-bear smiling on his way to Pilot Mountain. Click on the above image to view a video of Jabba-bear climbing a trail Pilot Mountain.Jabba resting happily on the first “leg” of the hike.Jabba-bear on “Pride Rock”.Jabba and his dad perched on a ledge.Jabba getting a back-rub from his mom during a break from his hike.Jabba at an overlook near the summit. He posed with his best cute smile and begged for some potato chips from a passerby who was enjoying his lunch.
Jabba near the peak, licking his nose.Jabba-bear is all smiles near the end of his hike.Click on the above image to view a short video of Jabba climbing steep stairs at Pilot Mountain.Jabba and his mom taking a break after a long climb.Jabba in the car on the way back home.All tuckered out!
