Hi friends,
There is something about the turn into fall that makes me want to hold the ordinary days a little closer. The slow walk, the sun on the kitchen floor, the dog sprawled in the middle of it like she owns the place. I hope you get a few of those days this week.
I want to share a dog with you today who has been quietly teaching me what a good life actually is.
You see, he is a senior boy with cancerous nodules on one of his back legs. He comes to see us for gentle immune support and treatments meant to slow things down. On exam, at a slow walk, he carries that leg just fine.
Here is the part I love.
When he speeds up, he breaks into what his family calls the hippie-hop, that bouncing, joyful, slightly ridiculous little gallop. He still eats everything in sight. He still shoves his way into the middle of every conversation in the room. Someone told him this week that he is going to be a movie star, and I have to say, he behaved like he already knew.
I need to say this next part plainly, because I think some of you need to hear it today.
His family did not come to me asking for a cure. They came asking for good days. Our honest hope for him is not that the cancer vanishes. It is that it does not change. That we hold the line, keep him comfortable, and let him stay exactly who he is for as long as we possibly can.
And by that measure, he is thriving.
We are taught to measure illness in scans and numbers and worst-case timelines. But the animals do not measure themselves that way. He does not know his diagnosis. He knows the sun is warm, dinner is coming, and his people are here. When we support a body gently, calming inflammation, tending the immune system, protecting the gut where so much of that immune strength actually lives, we are not always chasing a cure. Sometimes we are protecting the hippie-hop.
And the hippie-hop is not a small thing. It is the whole thing.
So if you are standing at the beginning of a frightening word right now, if someone has handed you a prognosis and you find yourself grieving a dog who is, at this very moment, wagging at you, I want to offer you a different way to keep score. Not “how long,” but “how well.” Not “is it gone,” but “is he still himself.” Because so often, for so much longer than you fear, the answer is a resounding yes.
Give your sweet one a scratch from me, and if he has a ridiculous happy run of his own, let him do it today. 💜
— Dr. Lily
💜 If cancer has touched a pet you love
A cancer diagnosis is a frightening word, but it is not the end of good days. At Integrative Pet Wellness Center, our integrative cancer care works alongside your oncologist or as gentle standalone support, calming inflammation, strengthening the immune system, tending the gut, and protecting comfort and joy at every stage. Our goal for every pet is more good days, with care measured the way it should be: not only “how long,” but “how well.”
If your pet is facing cancer, we would be honored to help. Email us at info@integrativepet.com or text us at (213) 316-6886. Visit integrativepet.com to learn more about integrative cancer support for your pet.
And if this post made you think of someone, a friend whose dog just got the frightening word, a family keeping score in scans and timelines, please share it with them. It might be the reframe they need today, and we are here whenever they are ready.