Animal shelters do incredible work giving pets a second chance. Some animals arrive at shelters in shocking condition, but they still step up to give them the love and care they need.
That was the case for a dog named Libby, who had a tumor the size of a volleyball. But now, her story has a happy ending.
In August, the Humane Society for Tacoma and Pierce County, in Washington state, took in a stray pit bull named Libby. They said the dog was “full of life” and had a “sweet face and kind eyes.”
However, Libby also had a serious medical concern: a 10-pound tumor the size of a volleyball, one of the largest masses they had ever seen:
Libby arrived at a hectic time for the shelter: HSTPC says Libby was just one of three urgent cases they responded to in 48 hours, and as Washington’s largest-intake shelter dozens of new animals were arriving every day.
Despite that, they resolved to give Libby the best possible care, even though they weren’t sure what the future had in store for the poor dog.
“She deserves the most compassionate care possible, but we don’t know what her outcome will be at this time,” the shelter wrote in August. “Our veterinary team is working on every possible option and will start with testing to understand what kind of tumor Libby has. For now, she is receiving pain medication to ease her discomfort and endless love from our staff.”
After giving Libby an x-ray, they discovered the tumor was in the bone of her upper right leg, and would require amputation. Reactive inflammation caused the tumor to swell to its unusual size, and was causing her agonizing pain.
Through generous donations from supporters, the shelter was able to pay for Libby’s leg amputation. The surgery, done by the vet staff at BluePearl Pet Hospital, was a success and Libby was finally free of the pain she had been living through.
Sadly, even though her tumor was gone, she was diagnosed with aggressive bone cancer, and her time on earth might be limited. But in happy news, Libby has found a home!
According to HSTPC, a vet tech fell in love with Libby and agreed to adopt her. Even though she knows that Libby might not live long, she wanted to fill her remaining days with love.
“There’s something in her eyes that begs for love and safety,” her new adopter said, according to a Facebook post. “I couldn’t turn away from that.”
Libby has now been renamed “Wiggles” and is enjoying her new home, playing with her dog brother and family and taking lots of cozy naps on the couch.
“Though we’re uncertain how much time she has left, we know she’ll spend her remaining days
The pet I’ll never forget: Ella the puppy threw up on me, snubbed me and after 10 years decided to love me
Mum, Dad, my brother Michael: everyone in the family got more affection from our ridgeback-staffie cross. And guess whose bed she used to poo on…
I think the tone was set when Ella threw up over me on the way back from the Dogs Trust. She was three months old, rolling around on the back seat between me and my twin brother, Michael (we’d just turned seven), and wasn’t enjoying her first trip in a car. She could have been sick anywhere – over the seat, over the floor – but for some reason she decided to climb on to me first.
It was the start of a beautiful but strangely one-sided friendship. Ella, a ridgeback-staffie cross, was the perfect dog: playful, energetic, naughty and tolerant. She would let us poke and prod her without complaint, turn her ears inside-out or dress her up in T-shirts or the thick woollen poncho my Greek Cypriot grandma knitted her for the British winter. And she was endlessly loving, at least to the other members of the family. Me? Too often it was as if I didn’t exist. If Michael and I were sitting on the sofa, she’d bound up to him. If I came home after a day out with my dad, he was the one she’d jump at. If I tried to take her for a walk by myself, she’d drag her feet and insist that I fetch my brother.
To add insult to injury, about once a year she would do a poo in the house. Not just anywhere, though: she’d climb the stairs to my room and leave it in a neat pile on top of my bed.
I can’t pretend I wasn’t offended by Ella’s attitude – I loved her just as much as anyone. But it took me a while to realise that in her eyes we were both bitches fighting for our place in the pack. I read that dogs are 98.8% wolf, even yappy little chihuahuas. Ella was a definite she-wolf and my mother (she who opened the tin of dog food every night) was the undisputed alpha female. Ella could handle that fact, but she didn’t want to be the omega female. That was me.
Working out the reasons for Ella’s lack of sisterhood, understanding that her indifference was atavistic and not just casual, didn’t make me any less jealous of my brother, who always took great pleasure in the fact that Ella seemed to prefer him. But I resigned myself to the situation. And then one day (happy ending, anyone?) everything changed. I must have been 16 or 17, we’d been away for a fortnight in France, and when we got back it was me she ran up to first, whining and twisting with pleasure at seeing me again. After that it was like all those years of competition had never happened. We were best friends for ever, or at least for the couple of years she had left. Ella finally loved me.
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