Just got home from seeing, sniffing and licking my favorite vet, Dr Krupnik (Englewood, NJ). He’s my ‘regular’ vet and this was my first visit with him since my surgery. He checked out all of my parts. He said that I was a perfect candidate for the amputation because I am healthy and fit and have a great attitude. Oh, yeah…I’m a super-dog.

Mom asked about arthritis (the surgeon said she saw signs of it during the amputation). So Dr K sent us home with some yummy liver-flavored Dasuquin. Do any other tripawds here take that? Mom would like to hear what you think of it.

Oh, yeah. And I met a beautiful little lady (cocker spaniel) in the waiting room. I put all of my best Romeo moves on her. That’s a visit to the vet she’ll never forget.

For having such a good check up...mom got me a cheeseburger. I even shared some with my little sis.

So now I’m here. A ‘tripawd’. Just like the rest of you. Still me. But with three legs instead of four. What the heck happened?!

I went to the vet, fell asleep and woke up feeling really, really weird. So I bit the lady who was trying to help me. Bad idea. The vet called my mom and asked her if I was a biter. Mom said, “No! Never!” But I did it. The vet said it could be a bad reaction to the pain medication. So they kept me another day and night in order to get my head right before sending me home.

So now I have a big “B” sticker on my chart. Biter. Me. The dog Mom calls Big Puppy. The dog that lets the neighbor’s two year old bonk him over the head with a nerf golf club while chanting “Rumbo! Rumbo! Rumbo!” The dog that got out of the yard once and went to the bus stop to visit all the people waiting. (Dad found me before I could get on the bus).

Here’s me showing my biter teeth. “Ha! You don’t fool me!” says Mom. “Missing one leg and a bunch of teeth…ooh, so scary!”

Around the time that Punch left us, Mom noticed that my elbow was swollen. She thought it might be from arthritis or a little fluid build up in the joint. It wasn’t painful and didn’t change how I walked, or jumped or laid down.

I had another warty looking bump under my leg, but the vet had said that it was nothing to worry about. She said “Boxers get weird skin things as they get older”. So Mom didn’t rush to go back to the vet.

But it started to get bigger and Mom wondered about the ‘no problem’ vet, so she took me to a different vet. He said that both growths should both be removed and tested, so I had a quick surgery and went home right afterwards. The test came back…two different types of cancer. The vet said he was sure he removed the entire underarm lump, but the elbow one was more complicated. He said if that one came back, it would be very aggressive.

Six months passed with no problems. Mom and Dad thought we were in the clear. Then the elbow lump came back. We went to the vet right away.  He said that my leg should be amputated and he took some chest x-rays, which showed a shadow.  To be sure, he recommended we come back in one week for another x-ray. We did. Clear lungs. Good news. Mom and Dad took me home to decide about the surgery. But the next morning, I woke up with a swollen neck and face. Mom thought it was another cancer lump. But the vet thought it was a bug bite, which didn’t surprise Mom because I like to eat bees. Yes, you read that right…buzz, buzz, buzz. They drive me crazy, so I eat them. Anyway… he gave me a shot and sent us home.  It was a Saturday (of course, Mom said). Sunday morning the swelling was a bit better, so Mom thought the shot worked. But by the middle of the night, I was miserable. My whole neck and face were so swollen that I couldn’t even lay down. So Dad took me to the animal hospital. They did tests and found a massive bacterial infection under my chin. They inserted drainage tubes, put me on IV antibiotics and kept me there for two days. I had the tubes for two weeks and was on pills for one month. All the vets said to wait on the amputation, even though my elbow tumor was growing. They were worried that the infection was going to come back.

The week after my last antibiotic pill, my family went on a long-planned vacation, leaving me with a close friend. I didn’t have any more infection problems, but during the time they were away, the lump grew like crazy. When they got home, Mom said, “Now the lump has lumps”. It looked like this…

The next day (a Saturday, again) we went back to the animal hospital and the vets there said that the infection was clear and we shouldn’t wait much longer. Mom and Dad made the appointment and on Monday, May 23rd, I had my right front leg amputated.

When I was two years old, Mom and Dad got me the best gift ever. A puppy! Boy, was I excited. When I first met her, I gave her a big head butt and she rolled across the grass. Then she got up, ran back at me and bit my leg. Yes! We may have had Boxer ancestors, but deep in our hearts, we were Wrestlers.

Mom and Dad said the puppy was born in Hungary and a man brought her litter to Istanbul to sell them as ‘rare black boxers’. Mom said there was no such thing…but they got her anyway because she was so cute and they were a little worried about what might happen to her if no one else wanted her. They named my new puppy Punch. Rumbles and Punch. We were inseperable… playing, eating, snoozing … we did everything together. Mom said we were the perfect pair.

I must admit that she was a much better watchdog than I was. She would cruise through the house at night, going from window to window, checking for danger. Mom called it patrolling the perimeter. Dad said he was glad at least one of us wouldn’t kiss the burglars.

We moved to America when I was three and Punch was one. It was a long trip. Kind of scary in our crates in the noisy plane. But Mom made the airport man promise that our crates would be side by side. That helped.

We settled into our new house and life went on.  We played with our kids. We went to the park. We snuggled with each other. I licked Punch’s face after dinner. Happy dogs.

But then Punch started acting different. She growled at me sometimes. She stopped playing tug of war. She would sit in the corner facing the wall. Mom took her to the vet and found out that Punch had Cushing’s Disease. Bad news, Mom said. Punch took pills, and got better for awhile. Then she started falling down and a couldn’t get up…Mom called it a seizure. Oh, it was terrible. We were all scared. Afterward, Punch would just sit and look at Mom without moving. One night, I heard Mom tell Dad that she believed Punch’s stares were a plea for help. A few days later, Mom hugged me one morning and told me to say goodbye to Punchie. Then they left and Mom and Dad came back later without her. I looked and looked for her. Checked every room. Went upstairs, downstairs, into the yard. Mom gave me lots of hugs and kisses and dropped tears on my head. After a long time, we started to feel a little bit less sad. We still miss her. Mom said that Punch is all better now… she’s being a good old girl and patrolling the perimeter in doggie heaven.

My new family named me Rumbles. Every time I saw Dad, he said, “Let’s get ready to RUMBLE!” I knew that meant we were going to play rough. I loved it and would get really wild running and jumping.

I grew up to be a strong, handsome guy. I wasn’t very big, for a boxer. But Mom and Dad said I was the perfect size for a house with little kids. I tried to be vigilant about guarding the house. But honestly, I wasn’t very good at it. I just loved everyone too much. The garbage men, the gardeners, the man who delivered water bottles, the cleaning lady. Everybody was just so nice and I wanted to kiss them all.

I was very lucky to get my family. You see, dogs are treated differently in Turkey than they are in some other parts of the world. In Turkey, people think dogs and cats are independent creatures. They might buy a puppy in the Spring, but then let it loose in the Fall when the kids go back to school. They don’t think this is bad. They believe that dogs are animals and should be able to live without a human family. So of course there are many, many stray dogs.

Here’s a photo of me at my house. Some of our neighbors had dogs leashed in their yards. But they were never allowed in the house. I loved being with my family all the time…inside playing with my kids, outside walking with my mom. They are MY pack.

I was born in Istanbul, Turkey in 2001. My human dad came to visit one day and said I was the best. The pick of the litter. The sweetest little guy. He was right. He let me say goodbye to my littermates and dog-mom and off we went to start my new life.

We went for a ride in a car (first time for me) and dad tried to keep me in an open top box so I’d be quiet and safe. No way! I escaped and wiggled around everywhere! Yay! It was so much fun.

Then we went to human mom’s workplace. She loved me right away. She said, “Hello, puppy. I’m your new mommy.”

We all got back in the car and went to a place mom and dad called “Home.” When we got there, mom and dad got very quiet and whispery. They put my on the couch and stood by the stairs. They loudly called some names. And two kids  came running down the stairs. Boy, were they surprised and happy and excited to see me on the couch. And me? I was so thrilled. How lucky was I to get two kids?!