Ever since we lost our beloved Scottish Fold, Mel, on Thanksgiving morning 2017, our house has felt a little off. For weighing in at around 7 pounds, Mel was an anchor in our home. He was a part of our family since 2001, was Lulu’s best friend, and was a constant companion to each of us.

We feel like we’ll never be able to find another cat that lives up to what we loved about him, but we’ve been considering adopting a second dog for a while now. The only problem with that idea is the fact that we had to find the right personality to fit in our home.

You see, Lulu is, well, how do I put this kindly, high maintenance? She doesn’t have a lot of friends, doesn’t get along well with others, and has been the only dog in our household for nearly nine years now. And to put it bluntly, she can be a bit of a territorial jerk when interacting with other dogs.

For this reason, we had to find just the right dog, with just the right personality, or we were at constant risk of a battle royal that would likely result in an escalation of tempers typical of a classic drunken barroom brawl, with about the same level of coordination. The only problem with this equation is the simple fact that Lulu is terrible at being a fighter. She’s all posture, no substance. You could say, she’s all bark, no bite (or at least only failed attempts at bites). She’s your stereotypical schoolyard bully, but she’s our bully and we love her. So when it came to finding the right dog, we had to find someone that was submissive and didn’t mind putting up with Lulu’s crap.

After many months of searching, Wendy stumbled across a cute pup on PetFinder named “Snowden.”

Snowden was at a local rescue and had been with them for a few months. Though his name may suggest he’s a well known leaker, rather than a. potty trained doggo, he was found wandering around in traffic during a snow storm, hence the name. Wendy felt an instant connection to his adorable photo, and the visible tooth in the next one, and filled out an application to adopt him.

While we waited for word we started the second guessing and what if game. Was he the right dog? What if Lulu hated him? What if he hated us? How much extra work is a second dog? Do we have the time? What the hell were we thinking? Well, that was all for naught when we received word that Snowden had many applications and the rescue was adopting him out to a family with children. We didn’t understand the logic, but shrugged our shoulders, felt it wasn’t meant to be, and went on living our three family member lives.

Over the next little while Wendy kept thinking about Snowden, and the rescue was on the lookout for another dog that might work for us. They called our references (Lulu’s vet, Lulu’s oncologist, our friends who can vouch for our ability to successfully raise and care for dog and place them on a pedestal unlike most people could experience in life), and we waited and kept looking.

A few weeks later we received a call that was very unexpected. Snowden’s new family wasn’t working out for him and we’d been moved to the top of the list if we wanted to meet him. It was shockingly similar to Lulu’s entrance into our lives, so much so that we couldn’t ignore the possibility that fate was bringing him into our lives. We decided, with Lulu accompanying, to drive up to the rescue on the Eastern Shore in order to meet this pup to see if he’d be a good fit for our family.

When we arrived the in-house trainer walked him out and we got to see his friendly face and snaggletooth, a result of his rather pronounced underbite, live and in person. We held Lulu, let them sniff each other, and then walked them around the yard on leashes for a few minutes. They seemed to get along without issue, so we let them off leash in fenced play area and they were romping and having a great time before we knew. It was more or less neutral territory, so no real concerns about territorial disputes. Both of them ran and played endlessly, only pausing long enough to check in with us and make sure everything was good. They were like old friends.

Upon our first meeting Wendy wasn’t so sure about him. He had a *lot* of energy on display that afternoon. Over the last six or so years we’d settled into a very comfortable life with Lulu and Mel, one where we all understood each other. Wendy worried that adding Snowden to our pack was going to be like welcoming the Tasmanian Devil into into our otherwise peaceful but already hectic lives, seriously upsetting the apple cart and rocking our wonderful balance.

On the other hand, I saw a young and very cute dog that was romping and getting along swimmingly with our typically difficult Lulu. Above all, I saw potential that we’d found a dog with a personality that would be a good fit and able to get along very well with our #1 daughter.

Wendy side eyed me at one point and said “if you want to leave, we can.” What she was really saying was “omg I’m not sure this is right and I’m sort of freaking out, so how about we forget we ever had this idea and call it a day?” I looked back at Wendy and said “I don’t know, I think we should do it.”

After about 45 minutes of watching them play in the yard, no fights, no disagreements, lots of compromise, and a whole lot of fun, we decided to take the plunge and take him home. Here's our first family photo as our newly established family of four.

On the car ride home I let Wendy in on an important secret. Before meeting this pup at the rescue, before having our application accepted, Wendy told me “we have to agree on this, this isn’t a done deal just because we’re applying or meeting him, the decision isn’t mine, it’s ours, and we can walk away if it’s not right." What Wendy didn’t realize is that I'm soft, and simply by meeting him at the rescue, by driving out to see him, and by having Lulu play with him, it was sort of a done deal for me. Pretty much, if we met him and he wasn’t a total jerk, and he and Lulu played and didn't fight, I wanted it to work out. Decision made. I’m weak for dogs. Nothing can be done about this.

When we got home that night the fun continued. We went on a long walk around the neighborhood with both of them before going into the house, then made sure we introduced them to the house slowly, putting Lulu in charge, and letting him know that she was Queen. Lulu and the doggo formally known as Snowden kept romping and having fun. It seemed like everything was going to work out perfect. He was used to being crated at night so we put him in his crate where he's most comfortable, and Lulu went up to sleep with us. It was our new routine.

As part of bringing this little pup previously known as Snowden into our home, we also started working on a good name that might fit a bit better for us. While he may have gotten used to Snowden, we didn’t feel it was necessarily the best name for him, aside from the inevitable "leaker" jokes that would never get old. “No” is an important command in a dog’s life, and we were worried that the name “Snowden” has too similar of a sound to “No,” which could cause some major confusion.

After talking it over on the phone, Wendy’s mom suggested Truman. We felt it adequately captured the “grumpy old man” look this little pup possessed, was a good two syllable name, and seemed a good fit. We agreed we’d start calling him Truman and started getting used to it as his name.

The next day we woke up, went downstairs, woke him up, and we all went for a long morning walk. It was a handful. Three or so miles of pulling craziness in dog form that obviously not used to walking on a leash. We started to see the work we’d have ahead of us in terms of training, consistency, and routine.

When we got home from the walk I caught Lulu silently staring across the room at him. She was glaring, fuming even. She started to puff out her chest and circle him, then she attacked. She’d had so much fun with him in her house just 12 hours earlier but now she realized this unwanted guest was apparently a more permanent fixture in her home than she’d preferred, and she wanted him to know this was not okay with her. With a glance and a flinch Lulu was instantly barking and trying to fight with the new little pup. He responded with timid barking and confusion, not knowing why this new friend of his was now out to kill him. We quickly separated them with no actual contact, but were confused as to what Lulu was thinking. Sadly, these were shades of what we’d worried about and even expected. We hated seeing it, but we also weren’t surprised.

Over the next 36 hours we watched these two pups like hawks, but we worried this might not work out. They seemed perfectly fine one second, then Lulu would start staring him down. Though he may have initially tried to show dominance on day one, after their first altercation, Truman was showing how submissive he was. He’d roll onto his back giving yo his belly, he’d check where she was before entering a room to make sure he wasn’t walking into a trap, and he’d only play with his own toys, no longer even attempting to play with Lulu.

It was sad to watch them, almost like watching defeat. Truman had thought he’d made a fast friend the day before, but now she was just being a jerk. A lot of people would say that Lulu was showing dominance and letting Truman know she was in charge, but it was more than that. Lulu was not backing off when Truman was accepting his role and asking for peace, she was just being a bit of a bully.

Truman, as a result of Lulu’s bullying, even started acting out. At one point he was walking through the family room with Lulu in the kitchen. Wendy glanced over to see Truman peeing on the floor right in front of Lulu’s dog bed. He didn’t have to pee, had his own bed, and knew Lulu wasn’t nearby, so he was letting his displeasure with the whole situation be known.

The altercations and stare downs continued, and midway through day three in the house one of our and Lulu’s favorite people, Amy, came to visit and meet Truman. Amy and Lulu have a true bond. We’re pretty sure Lulu likes her as much, if not more than she likes us. When Amy arrived, as usual, Lulu was completely excited. Amy met Truman but also gave Lulu the attention and love she wanted.

A few minutes after Amy left it was like a switch flipped and suddenly Lulu no longer hated or was threatened by Truman’s presence in the house. Within the hour Lulu was once again initiating play flighting with Truman like they’d had on day one. It was almost as if Amy’s visit reassured Lulu that her life was still intact, that her people were still her people, and she didn’t need to fear the addition of Truman to her pack.

We moved forward with cautious optimism. Truman started to lose some of his fear of Lulu, but still consistently let her know that she was in charge. They continued to play almost non stop and we started to settle into our new routines as a two dog child house. It was touch and go there for a few days, but Truman was able to cement his place as a new member for our family.

We have a lot of work to do with Truman. We need to leash train him, help him with commands like come and stay (though he’s mastered sit and shake/paw), and help get him used to encountering other dogs on our walks. But at the same time, his energy is great, he loves Lulu, and he’s a very sweet dog that really wants to be by us whenever possible.

And for those of you that have been around for a long time and might notice the resemblance that Truman bears to our first dog, Ollie, it's a little bit crazy for us. We have a photo of Ollie from 2010 when he was in the middle of chemo for lymphoma and we were home cooking his food. This is one of those quintessential memories we have of Ollie, in spite of his too brief time with us. 

In the first few days we had Truman I was making some lunch at the stove. I looked down and seeing him begging for food pretty much took my breath away. They look similar, certainly not the same, but close enough that it made me pause for a moment.

So like I said, let’s use the 8th anniversary of our blogging lives to welcome Truman as a new contributing member of Old Town Home. You’ll likely see him in many photos here and on Instagram, looking oh so snaggle-toothed.

If you’ve been following along since the early days, or if you’re relatively new to our blog, thank you for interacting and supporting our endeavors. We can’t wait to share more projects, fun, and adventures as we continue on our many ongoing efforts.

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Today Yogi is with Lost Dog animal rescue and they are working to find him his new family. While that's Yogi's story today, we want to share with you how Yogi's story crossed paths with our story, why we think he's pretty special, and why he might be the perfect addition to your family.

Yogi's story in our lives started on a Saturday back in October when we were on the way to our Foursquare. Driving along a well trafficked two lane country road on a cool and overcast fall afternoon, we saw a little brown dot moving around on the side of the busy road off in the distance.

As frequent travelers of this road we've seen it all. From foxes to deer to possums to skunk, it's a great part of the area to see wildlife but we're always concerned about them getting hit by passing cars. Not knowing what the creature was we slowed as we approached, both interested to see what sort of animal was ambling along the road, and also wanting to be sure we didn't have an animal meets car encounter. But when we got close enough to see who it was, we were shocked to see that the animal we'd been approaching was a very cute dog jogging along the side of the road, apparently looking for food.

Alex and I have a soft spot for animals in general, and seeing this little pup wandering on a busy country road simply broke our hearts. Without a second thought Alex pulled into the next drive to turn our car around and said, "We have to help him, we can't leave him out here like this."

Before I knew it we were stopped on the road, Alex was out of the car, and I was doing my best to make sure traffic coming from either direction was slowing down to make sure nobody got hurt. We both initially assumed this little fellow had perhaps escaped from his yard, and we planned on looking at his tag to take him home. As Alex crouched down on the side of the road, the pup seemed to happily run over to him to see what he had to offer. He wasn't aggressive at all, and seemed to be more curious. We quickly realized this dog didn't have a home, and there was no home that we could return him to. He was emaciated from weeks or months without proper nourishment, as filthy as I've ever seen a short haired dog, nose rubbed raw likely from foraging for food wherever he could find it, and never having his nails trimmed his pads were red and cracked between his toes from walking endlessly along busy roads. To say it broke our hearts is a significant understatement.

While Alex was doing his best to wrangle the surprisingly friendly and jovial dog, another driver in his pickup truck stopped to see what the fuss was about. By this point Alex had befriended our new four legged friend to the point where he had actually picked the dog up to prevent him from running into traffic. After the neighbor graciously shared a box of Chik-Fil-A nuggets with our canine hitchhiker (he gobbled them right up) and confirmed he didn't belong to anyone that lived nearby or along the road, Alex and I decided it was our duty to load the brindle beauty into the back of our car and figure out what to do. No more than five minutes in the car and the exhausted and hungry hitchhiker was fast asleep.

He was so emaciated we could clearly see his ribs.

Knowing that we had few options on an Saturday afternoon thanks to typical shelter closing times, we took our new co-traveler in the back of the car to the nearest shelter in Maryland in the hope we could make it before closing. Lulu, who had swapped places with me and was now riding up front with Alex, was thoroughly confused at the prospect of a new dog that was now suddenly in the back of her car. To her credit, she handled the whole situation with more poise than either of us expected.

Unfortunately, we arrived at the shelter after closing time. They had an "overnight drop" cage where we could have left him, but given his seemingly starved state, approaching rain, and the sense that we'd gotten him too far to simply leave him in a cage, we couldn't give up.

We were able to contact local animal control through the county police and arranged to meet an officer at the shelter. She would ultimately be able to let us into the main building and admit our new friend. This would also ensure he would get some food and warmth for the evening, as temperatures were expected to fall drastically that night.

After thanking the officer profusely for taking time out of her day to handle this sweet homeless boy, we drove away from the shelter with only thoughts of this little pooch on our mind. Where did he come from? Why was he wandering alone? How old is he? What's going to happen next? Did we do the right thing dropping him off at the shelter? We certainly felt much better that we knew he was safe, warm, and fed, and would soon be seen by their vet.  

From what we could gather he looked like a pit/boxer mix, seems to be somewhat young but mostly full grown, was probably only about 35 pounds but should likely be about 50-60 pounds, and was surprisingly friendly given his situation.

As the next few days went by we kept thinking about this boy in the shelter, and we started to figure out what else we could do for him. Maryland has rules that prevent individuals from adopting pit bulls and pit mixes from shelters due to bully breed restrictions. Though the shelter we surrendered him to is a very good shelter, it is not a no-kill shelter. This didn't sit well with us, so we went to work.

Knowing their reputation locally we contacted Lost Dog & Cat Rescue, a well known rescue organization in Northern Virginia. (If you've heard of the restaurant, Lost Dog Cafe, they're all part of the same group.) After the hold period was up and nobody had claimed our new furry friend from the shelter, we began the process of essentially transferring him to the rescue to ensure he would eventually be placed in a good home no matter how long it took. Though Maryland shelters can't adopt dogs to individuals, they can work with rescue organizations to place dogs, so this seemed to be the best path forward. We figured that if we could get him transferred to Lost Dog, he'd be in a very dog friendly area, and he'd have a better shot at a happy life.

Two weekends after we found him wandering on the road, starving and filthy, we had secured the paperwork for transfer and headed back to the shelter to be his official escort to his new rescue. Lulu tagged along for the ride and made sure to keep him company.

After we picked him up and before we took him back to Virginia, we figured he needed a little bit of pampering to make him feel a little better and to help him in his transition. We took him to our house and had a nice little outdoor spa day. It was a warm day so we game him two very thorough baths in the yard. The water was warm and sudsy, and he seemed to simultaneously love chomping at the stream of hose water, and look in puzzlement as we were drenching him and soaping him up.

The end result, Alex was pretty much as wet as our newly scrubbed companion, but he was, possibly for the first time in his grown life, smelling fresh and clean.

We walked around our yard a little to dry him off and realized that he didn't have a clue when it came to walking on a leash. He was equal parts spastic and euphoric, and kept trying to play with Lulu, who was, once again, rather confused by the whole situation.

After transferring this handsome boy to Lost Dog, he was given the name Yogi, which seems to fit him quite nicely. He's now been with Lost Dog for a few months, and in this time Alex and I have made a habit of visiting him at their pop up kennel to regularly to walk and play with him. He's currently at the Seven Corners Kennel in Fairfax, Virginia, and is doing really well.

Since he became a member of Lost Dog's pack Yogi has been to the vet several times to resolve normal issues you'd expect from a dog that had spent his prior life outside and without veterinary care. He was neutered and has been acclimating to a life where he knows he'll be cared for and fed.

When we go to walk and interact with him we always see that others have taken him out to walk around the Eden Center complex several times per day. But he's always excited when he sees us coming because he knows he gets to get out and play a little.

He's gotten so much better walking on the leash, and he's begun putting on weight as he has been getting healthier. He's a very strong dog, which is far more apparent now that he isn't just skin and bones.

Each visit with him we work on some basic commands like sit and heel, and he tends to be rather food motivated (but not aggressively so), which means he's responding really well when we have some yummy treats to offer.

At this point, Lost Dog is actively trying to adopt him out, but it has taken a while to get to this point. Lost Dog received a large number of rescues from Puerto Rico following the hurricane last summer, and getting all of his veterinary items taken care of while also placing and caring for all of the other dogs has taken quite some time. Nonetheless, he just keeps getting better and simply needs the right family. This is a video from one of our more recent trips to see him. Look at how much better he's doing on the leash.

This is where you come in. We're hoping someone local to the Northern Virginia area might be reading this and would be interested in fostering this pup, or better yet, welcoming him into your home permanently. Unfortunately with his strength and Lulu's general poor aptitude to be aware of her surroundings on walks, it would be impossible for me to walk them together, so our fostering Yogi isn't a realistic possibility. But we want to do anything in our power to make sure this sweet guy has a chance at the happy life he deserves, that he so clearly didn't have for the first part of his life.

From our experience he's really very sweet, somewhat shy, and still a little unsure of new surroundings. But when he has a bond with you, you can feel it. When we walk together and he gets uneasy around too much traffic on a nearby road, he'll lean his face into my leg to feel more secure. He loves getting his back and butt scratched, and his tail moves a mile a minute when he can see one of us coming towards his enclosure.

Yogi, like so many rescues, deserves a a chance to be someone's happy and healthy companion. We're hopeful that someone might be you or someone you know.

If you're interested in fostering or adopting this cute brindle boy with the goofy grin and soulful eyes, here's more information on Yogi and how you can contact Lost Dog. 

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We were excited to spend Thanksgiving evening with good friends and neighbors, looking forward to having a few days off, and had big plans to tackle a few renovation projects. Instead, we began the Thanksgiving day bidding an unexpected and heartbreaking farewell to our beloved four legged family member, Mel. 

Mel was a cherished member of our family for the last 16 1/2 of his 17 years. His rugged Scottish (Fold) good looks, expressive personality, grumpy expressions from his little round face, and ability to win over pretty much everyone he came in contact with has been the constant in our adult lives.

I was a mere 22 years old when Mel came into our lives, given to us by Alex's mom when her chihuahua and other cats decided Mel wasn't a welcome member of her household. 

We celebrated some of life's biggest moments together; our engagement, wedding, move into our first home, job and career changes, the adoption of both Oliver and Lulu, and so much more. 

I remember waiting with him in our apartment on September 11, watching the news, anxious for Alex to get home from work in DC. He and I sheltered in our apartment's parking garage the day a tornado came through Alexandria. 

He laid by my side, providing warmth and comfort as I recovered from two hip surgeries. And he's been a constant presence in our home, never hesitating to provide love, affection, audible displeasure, and quite frequently, comic relief.

He loved Halloween because it meant he could sleep in our Trick-or-Treat basket, yet he hated the idea of dressing up for the holiday. He loved tuna and laying with his arms extended over the sides of furniture.

He loved Christmastime, as it meant chewing on ribbons, laying under the warmth of the tree lights and drinking the sap flavored water while getting tree sap stuck in the fur on the his head (giving him the ultra creative December nickname of "Sap Head"). 

He loved lounging around. We would call him "the rolley, polley Cheat" when he'd lay on his back and roll around. (Long story vaguely related to Internet cartoon Homestar Runner, but we tend to have absurd nicknames for our babies.)

He hated to be brushed, and after tolerating it a whopping 1.7 seconds (and issuing a few warning hisses), wouldn't hesitate to enthusiastically bite the brusher.

He loved to sit outside with us. He could sit for hours on a cushioned chair or in our laps, gently raising his sweet face, breathing in all of the smells of nature and keeping an eye on the pesky squirrels or birds in trees. 

And, after much convincing on her part, he came to not only accept Lulu as part of our family, but grew to love her deeply. As long as she remembered that he was in charge.

And although he had grayed somewhat and his health had been steadily declining over the last few years, most recently developing near blindness and some arthritis, he spent his last days and weeks seemingly feeling quite well and giving us no indication that the end was near. 

He and Lulu also shared an unfortunate bond of being cancer survivors, of the same type of cancer, mast cell tumors. They were diagnosed within days of each other back in 2012 and Mel had to have a good section of his tail amputated as a result. 

He was not happy with the scenario, but fought through that as he did all of his other ailments over the years to celebrate his 17th birthday this past October. He was still doing what he loved, stretching out on the couch, getting scratched under his chin and behind his ears, and transitioning to his well earned life as a lap cat that enjoyed staying warm. 

Alex woke up early yesterday morning to run a Turkey Trot with friends in Del Ray. He had heard Mel come up the stairs just a short time before he got out of bed (one of the nice things about old homes are the creaky stairs that let you know when someone is coming or going). But when Alex went downstairs to leave for the race, Mel wasn't in any of his normal morning spots. Concerned, he went looking for him and found him, already having crossed the rainbow bridge. He looked peaceful, as if he had laid down and curled up to take a cat nap, and then took his last breath. 

Having been through Ollie's long and difficult battle with cancer, I have to say that ultimately we're grateful for how Mel chose to leave us. He was safe, comfortable, and in his own familiar surroundings, he knew that the three people that love him most were nearby (yes, I count Lulu as "people"), and he made the decision in his time and on his terms. 

In the week leading up to Thanksgiving, we had a great week as a family. We spent time cuddling on the couch, and he enjoyed some of his favorite foods including tuna juice and turkey. And on Tuesday night, while we hung a new mirror in the living room, Mel sauntered in to see what the fuss was all about. It was like old times. Me petting him, Mel investigating the tools we were using, and he, Lulu, and I offering helpful advice as to how Alex could hang the mirror. 

Below is the last photo we have of Mel, taken Tuesday night. Lulu and I were on the couch and Mel jumped up and snuggled up between the two of us. I remarked to Alex, "Would you ever have believed, given how much Mel hated Lulu at the start, that he'd ever learn to love her and would actually seek her out?" 

I can't imagine a better way to go out. Loving, and being loved.

Our hearts physically ache with grief, and it's hard for me to type this through swollen and watery eyes. But for anyone who has gotten to know us through our blog or has ever shared in a love for a pet can know that our home feels quiet and empty, and our family no longer feels complete. 

A brief blog post can't begin to express just how much we care for Mel or the void that we feel as a result of his passing. He lived such a long, full, and wonderful life, and we've been trying to prepare for this inevitable moment for years, but there's just no way to truly prepare nor fully express our sadness. To Alex and me, Mel was so much more than a cat both in mind and spirit, and he will forever be loved and missed. 

I'll leave you with this little video we made of Mel and Lulu, showing the spirit, spunk, and feistiness he possessed as a spry 10 year old, letting Lulu know who was boss. 

We have to much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving, perhaps most of all that we had 16 1/2 years of loving companionship from our smallest family member.

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Our last in depth update on our Ori Pei's treatment to rid her adorable body of the latest mast cell tumor on her arm had taken us from surgery to the first several weeks of radiation at the veterinary oncologist.

Each morning for three weeks either Wendy or I would load lulu into the car and drive her to the vet for treatment. Rather than dropping her for the day, we'd typically wait in the lobby for the roughly hour and a half to two hours until her treatment was done, then take her home. It was a trying experience with tremendous uncertainty, but one that became an odd ritual within our daily routine.

The entire process was eased by the knowledge that the oncology staff at VCA SouthPaws Veterinary Specialists and Emergency Center as a whole seemed to love seeing Lulu. More specifically, Lulu's favorite tech, Rebecca, would come out to get her each morning and Lulu would meet her with a wagging tail and bouncy energy. You really can't beat that for a vet visit.

Though the treatment was going well, the thing hanging in the back of our minds was when her radiation burn might appear. We had been cautioned on the likelihood of the severity but knew the "when" was an unknown that varies by each dog. And though we kept expecting to wake to a giant gaping wound, we managed to make it through the entire three weeks of radiation without anything more than some mild redness.

Wouldn't you know it, just when we were starting to believe (though it was based on our own foolish exceeding and unrealistic optimism) we might somehow make it through the entire process without an actual burn, we awoke on the morning after her final radiation treatment to a tiny reddish pink spot of missing fur on Lulu's upper arm, just north of her treatment field.

Worried we had allowed her to chew her arm raw in the night, we snapped photos and emailed them to Rebecca for analysis. Rebecca made herself extremely available throughout the entire process, and this was no exception. Rebecca promptly responded with assurance that this spot was both normal, and likely the start of the burn.

Over the next several days the burn progressed from its tiny spot to a large and almost gaping mess of patchy fur and gross arm puss. It was not a pretty sight.

During this time we had two options for treatment. The first involved the long process of allowing the burn to heal naturally, simply keeping Lulu from licking it (cone of shame) while the burn slowly scabbed over and healed. The second involved continued trips to the vet for treatments in their hyperbaric oxygen chamber.

Yes, that's right, Hyperbaric Oxygen Treatment, or HBOT, involves placing our sweet little pup within a pressurized oxygen rich environment for about an hour per day to stimulate her body's own healing ability.

This same treatment has been used recently by professional athletes to promote more rapid healing for injuries, and has been used on animals and people for years for various treatments. One of the things that the HBOT tends to really help on are radiation burns.

The HBOT treatments seemed to speed the healing process right out of the gate. Rather than waiting for weeks for a fully scabbed and good looking scar, we ended up with a bright pink area of healthy skin in just a few days.

Lulu's HBOT treatment carried on for about three weeks. We did all five days the first week, then three days, then two days. The treatments themselves were about $90 each, but with our pet insurance we were only paying about $9 for each visit. As you can see, having Lulu continue on the HBOT path to heal herself was a no-brainer.

During this time we were diligent about keeping Lulu in her cone when we weren't around, and watching her like a hawk to keep her from licking when we were around. At times it was pathetic...

...and others comical, like when she begrudgingly agreed to allow us to apply a cold compress.

During this time she still slept in bed with us, but we kept two sheets for her to lay on so her arm goo wouldn't get on the bed. Lulu would sleep in her cone and would get pretty angry at it in the middle of the night. She'd often wake us up by standing over our faces and breathing in a very annoyed manner. From our vantage point laying down on the bed, she looked like an annoyed satellite dish. Wendy and I couldn't help but laugh.

After a few weeks Lulu's arm really healed up nicely. The redness continued to turn pink and the scabs continued to fall off.

Today, Lulu's arm has healed completely. She still has a large pink patch where her skin's pigmentation is gone and will likely never return, but we simply look at it as giving her street cred. Fur has started to grow back around the scar in a gray/white tone and may or may not cover her scar as time goes on. Truth is, we don't really care if her fur grows back, she's wonderful either way, as long as we have her.

We went back for our final checkup at the oncologist last week and were given the great news that Lulu looked to be healed from this bout of her mast cell tumors. We have a 50/50 chance they will return, and we'll just continue to monitor. But we we cross our fingers and toes, maybe, just maybe, this can be the last time we have to deal with these bastards.

Thank you to all of our friends, family, and people we've never even met in person for your ongoing support and kind words during this ordeal. It's been all consuming at times, and very trying at others, but we're so happy to be on the other end and looking back on it now. Lulu is fortunate to have such wonderful medical staff to support her through this, and we're quite fortunate to have her.

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Lately, we've been putting quite a bit of time and energy into taking care of our wonderful little Ori-Pei, Lulu, in her quest to beat cancer.

A few weeks back we told you all about the identification of her second mast cell tumor and resulting surgery in early January. We also filled you in on the fact that she'd require continued treatment after the surgery because we weren't able to achieve good margins on the tumor's removal. Well, the last few weeks have been "Operation Warrior Princess" in our house, where we're all actively fighting off these a-hole cancer cells and working for Lulu to make a complete recovery.

We wanted to take this opportunity to give you all an update and a little insight into this whole process. Whether you've experienced something similar with your loved ones and can commiserate (Lulu's process is very similar to human radiation too), or are just interested to hear about how they tackle this sort of thing in dogs, we hope our experience not only cures Lulu, but that it also helps others learn about options and possibilities in cancer treatment.

Our latest journey towards beating cancer all started a little over two weeks ago when Lulu began going to the first of her 15 daily radiation treatments. The plan was straight forward, but very intimidating. We'd need to bring Lulu every morning, Monday through Friday, for three weeks, for a total of 15 sessions. During these sessions the oncology staff would need to lightly anesthetize and intubate her (radiation requires complete calm and stillness, not a strength of Lulu's), then perform the radiation treatment on Lulu's right arm. We were warned of the possibility of a localized burn on the area where the radiation was being given, missing fur, and the resulting scar tissue or white spot. Going into it without any prior experience on the subject was very intimidating, to say the least.

When you're going through something like this, it's the human response to draw comparisons from similar scenarios, and often expect the worst. We've known or seen the reaction people tend to have to radiation treatment, and we can clearly see worst case scenarios when we can no longer resist the urge to Google image search an ailment. But we have to keep reminding ourselves that this is our situation, our scenario, and our scenario cannot be compared to another's until our given scenario's treatment is complete, and it's all thanks to the billions of variables that go into the diagnosis and treatment of just about anything.

After Lulu's first radiation treatment I took a photo of her scar expecting to monitor the progression of her reaction to the radiation. As you can see from the photo, the first day was pretty basic, a fairly innocuous scar dotted by a purple line put in place to ensure radiation is administered in the correct location.

While we expected the scar to quickly progress into a gnarly burn mark, I snapped photo after photo, day by day, but after two weeks of treatment (10 sessions of radiation), Lulu's scar was largely unchanged, save for the fading of the purple line.

In speaking with the staff we learned several things. The first, and most important, every dog reacts differently, and everything from location on the body to depth of treatment has an impact too. Some dogs don't burn as obviously, while others develop what amounts to large open wounds. In Lulu's case, she wasn't burning, and that could be attributed to many different things, including the fact that she has dark skin, and sometimes burns don't show as quickly on darker colored dogs. Really, in a way it's fascinating to see how this all works.

We also told the staff all about Lulu, and about the fact that she has an amazing number of supportive people on the Internet that are wishing her well and pulling for her to beat this. Since they know we're writing about Lulu and filling you all in on her progress, they offered to take a few photos of Lulu while she was undergoing her treatments. As a pet parent, sometimes ignorance is bliss, but we're very happy they offered to share these photos, as it's quite interesting to see what our lovely little girl goes through on a daily basis.

As intimidated as we may have been when the whole process started, the entire experience has been eased by the amazing oncology and support staff at Lulu's oncologist. Additionally, the well wishes from everyone here on the blog, our friends, our family, and our neighbors has helped make this entire process one with a very hopeful and potentially positive outcome, no matter how unfortunate.

So what's a day like for Lulu these last few weeks? I'll tell you.

We wake up bright and early and spend a little quality time snuggled up in bed. I think the cold weather, her treatments, and general sleepiness she's always had has turned her into a bit of a burrower/body heat seeker.

Once we're out of bed we gather together a favorite toy of Lulu's, her gray blanket, and a few snacks for the day and either Wendy or I head out for the car with her. No food for Lulu in the mornings on account of the procedure.

When we arrive at the oncologist we check in and have a seat in the waiting room while Lulu alternately shakes nervously and acts interested in one of the other dogs in the waiting room.

When one of the staff, typically Lulu's now very good friend, Rebecca, comes out to get her, we head over to the scale to get her daily weight. Typically we're 29.5-30.0 pounds depending on how many treats we fed her the night before.

Wendy, each day as she prepares to head back for treatment, gives Lulu a kiss on the head and offers her encouraging words like telling her to be a "cancer fighting warrior princess." (She thinks it makes Lulu sound tough.) After that, Lulu begrudgingly heads back for her treatment, she's not one that likes to be away from Wendy or me.

On Mondays she has some blood work before radiation, but on the other days she heads right back to start the process. The oncologist's office has wifi, so we bring out laptop along and hang out in the waiting room while she does her session.

In the back, she's anesthetized and intubated so she can undergo treatment and placed on the radiation table for her session. She must stay completely still for the duration, hence the sedation. She's also allowed to rock her poncho during treatment. We wouldn't want her to be cold...or unfashionable...during treatment.

Once the treatment is over, which only takes 20 minutes I believe, she's moved to a comfortable area where she's allowed to rest until she's ready to wake up and go. Since we're usually in the waiting room, and she knows this, I think she sometimes forces herself to wake up a little quicker than she should. But when she tells Rebecca she's ready to leave, they bring her up front to use so we can head home (though she's still pretty loopy). On days when we can't wait for her, she hangs out with Rebecca, sometimes sharing her lunch with her or helping her to make phone calls.

Once home we make a little place for her on the couch where she can sleep off the effects of the drugs for the day. We also put out her food so she can eat whenever she gets hungry.

After she decides to go to town on her food we start our medicine/supplements for the day. Lulu gets 10mg of Pepcid and 3600mg of fish oil throughout the day, all with a little coating of peanut butter. I'll tell you one thing for sure, she LOVES medicine time.

By about 2:00-3:00 she's largely returned to her normal self and is back to chasing Mel around the house...

...running to the door when the mail person drops our letters, wanting to chase squirrels and climb trees, or generally being her goofy self.

She's also been overseeing the New Year organization efforts currently underway in our home.

After a late dinner that has to wrap before 10:00 (her food cutoff time), we all head up to bed to repeat the process.

Wendy and I are fortunate to be in flexible jobs that offer the time we need to address Lulu's treatments. If need be, we could drop her as early as 7:00am, and leave her at the vet's until 7:00pm. And while I'm certain she would make many new friends and fans among the staff if we had to do this, we're happy we don't have to.

So there you have it, that's a day in the life of our cancer fighting warrior princess canine. She's doing great, in good spirits, and loving all of the extra time she's getting with us. We've got until the end of the week on radiation treatments, then each day next week we'll need to take care of her burn treatment (even if one doesn't appear on the surface). If anything, she may be a little upset that life is "too" normal. Even cancer won't get her out of her dreaded bath time.

Please keep your good thoughts and well wishes coming as they seem to be doing quite a bit of good for our little girl. We honestly and truly, from the bottom of our hearts, appreciate each and every sentiment.

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