It’s hard to put this feeling into words.
Since our last update on the 2nd, things have felt… almost normal. Dior has continued to be his goofy, energetic self—completely unaware of what tomorrow holds. And maybe that’s the hardest part. Watching him hop up off the floor, tail wagging, ready for the next adventure, every time we even LOOK at our shoes, while knowing the future ahead will look very different.
We were supposed to hear back about his blood, urine, and fecal tests last week but didn’t get a call until this morning. When Dr. Ford, our surgeon (and certified ortho-nerd 🦴🧠) called to confirm surgery, I asked how everything looked. He told me that dogs with osteosarcoma often show abnormal calcium and phosphorus markers—but Dior’s results looked excellent. He said that’s a really encouraging sign for prognosis, and that news along brought me to tears all over again.
Still, I’ve been trying to keep Dior calm and quiet (which anyone who knows him knows is an impossible task). Even though his scans show that his bone is still intact, it doesn’t mean it isn’t fragile—and the risk of a spontaneous fracture is very real. We’ve scaled back walks, limited car rides, and basically grounded him for the time being. He doesn’t understand why, and will even paw at his leash and that breaks my heart.
This diagnosis has also forced me to confront the end of Dior’s service career. I started training him as my service dog at just 12 weeks old, not even a month after losing my heart dog, Dymond. Dior has always known his job—and he’s done it with unmatched intuition, love, and purpose. While I technically ‘retired’ him shortly after rescuing Dolce, this feels more final. More emotional. And I haven’t fully processed it.
To make things even more emotionally complex, this week marks five years since I lost Dymond. We were attacked on June 8, 2020, and passed on June 13 from sepsis as his injuries were far more severe than mine. Dior’s surgery falls in between those two dates and it’s hard not to feel the weight of that timing. (I shared more about Dymond’s story here on YouTube.)
In the middle of all this anxiety, we did manage to sneak in some joy. Yesterday, we went to a beach birthday party with both dogs—and despite repeatedly being told not to, Dolce decided to drink the saltwater every single chance she got (yes, they had a bowl full of fresh water in the shade by the car…). This caused Dolce to have almost instantaneous explosive diarrhea, and unfortunately Dior’s urgency to go out woke Brandon up at 3AM. 😅 BUT they were happy. They ran through the waves, helped me look for shells, and soaked up all the attention. It reminded me that joy can still exist in the middle of grief. And for that, I’m grateful.
So… here we are.
Today is Dior’s last day on four legs.
We check in at 8 a.m. tomorrow. If all goes smoothly, we’ll pick him up Wednesday and start the next chapter—amputation recovery, followed by immunotherapy and then chemo.
Please keep us in your thoughts. Pray for a routine surgery with no complications. Pray for a smooth recovery. And maybe say a little prayer for Dolce, too—it’ll be her first night at home without her brother.
To those asking about donations: we haven’t reached our goal. In fact, donations haven’t even covered Dior’s diagnostic tests to date. If you can donate, buy a T-shirt, or share his story, it would mean the world to us.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
—Haley, Dior, Dolce & family
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