Sydney has the big C.

For as long as I can remember I wanted a Basset Hound. Growing up we had Collies or Collie crosses. Collies are great dogs. They will always have a fond spot in my heart. I loved our dogs, but I knew when I had a dog of my own it would be a Basset Hound. I longed for their Lisa Frank-esque doe eyed stares and those impossibly long velvet ears. When I finally was the master of my own dog destiny I started looking for my Basset Hound.

Rescuing dogs is something that I believe in. I wanted to balance my need for a Basset Hound with my desire to rescue. When our family was ready for our dog I signed up for Basset Hound message boards, rescue groups and religiously trolled Pet Finder. I was 100% committed to finding our dog. My boyfriend was not quite as sure (we won't hold it against him, he wasn't raised with dogs.) I knew that when I found my dog I was gonna to name him Sydney, after Sydney Carton in "A Tale of Two Cities". When I found a Basset puppy who was already named Sydney I was able to convince my boyfriend that it was kismet. We drove 2.5 hours to pick up Sydney. (Syndey was originally purchased as a high school graduation present. When they realized that he couldn't accompany the recipient of the gift to college he needed to be re-homed. There ignorance was our good fortune.)

When we met Sydney he was this impossibly adorable ball of energy who routinely tripped over his own ears. He was a wonderful puppy. He was dopey and loving and everything I'd hoped for in a Basset Hound. He also possessed all the less favorable Basset traits. He was stubborn and prone to eating all sorts of things he had no business eating (I could have a whole additional blog about the things Syd has eaten). The one hound trait that he seemed to be missing was the desire and/or ability to howl. Once my younger son asked the vet why Syd's howler was broken.

In short, we got almost everything we expected in a Hound dog out of Sydney. What we didn't expect was that Sydney would be diagnosed with stage IV Lymphoma when he was only four years old. I knew that cancer was a mean bastard. Cancer is why our aunt will never be able to meet my sister's baby and cancer is what took my granny from us. Now cancer wants my dog? Well, eff you cancer. You can kiss my ass, and you can kiss Sydney's ass. I am sick of cancer. Cancer really sucks.

Sydney was diagnosed with lymphoma a little over 48 hours ago. He has already had his first chemo treatment. Attempting to kick cancers ass and buy more time with our sweet Sydney was not a choice for our family. It was simply what we had to do. We know that the long term success rate is not what we would like it to be, but as long as Sydney has a good quality of life and we can spend more time with him we are gonna throw everything that we have at this. We are going to count every extra day with Syd as a gift and make them count.

In the last 48 hours there have been people who have understood completely and people who have thought we are nuts. I am okay with both. To the people who have understood that we will pay whatever the amount,cut back on expenses, cancel our honeymoon and if it comes to it - sell a car. Good for you, you have obviously enjoyed life with a dog. To those of you that think we are nuts. I am sorry that you have never had the opportunity to know unconditional love. Sydney is a part of our family. When we have needed him to hold up his end of the bargain he has done it. When someone walked into our house uninvited in the middle of the night he defended us. When Cady crashed the car he protected her. When Evan Knoll was at his sickest Sydney sat up nights with us. Every time we needed him he was there. Now he needs us. I certainly won't give up on him because the next six months might be a financial strain.

While I am committed to fighting this beast with every resource that I have, I know that there may come a time where I will have to say goodbye. I am heartbroken that we will more than likely lose nearly a decade with Sydney. I think that it is unfair, and if I am honest I have spent a lot of time in the last 48 hours crying about the injustice of the whole thing. As committed as I am to fighting for more time with Sydney, I am equally committed to knowing when the fight is over and he has had enough. I won't allow him to be sick for my piece of mind. I hope when the time comes I will know and I will be brave enough to do the right thing. As trite as it sounds I know he would do the right thing for me.

So there you have it. Part one of the story of Sydney, the girl who loves him, and our quest to kick cancers ass.