The cancer whisperer

I LOVE Glen – an amiable-but-near-geriatric West Highland white terrier who belongs to a client I’ve known for so long she seems like family.

He is the second generation that I’ve looked after and his two predecessors, who were together for most of their lives, were similar in nature. All were happy, hardy and reliable.

They suffered minor issues with itchy skin here, a sore ear there and the occasional upset tummy but generally life was good. Then things changed.

Glen, normally so laid-back and unfazed suddenly became an agitated wee dog. He was restless, unsettled and anxious.

Symptoms of separation anxiety appeared. He barked and paced whenever his owner left the house. At night, he slept poorly, always looking to his owner for her reassurance. He did not seem like a happy dog at all.

Fearing he might have the start of Canine Cognitive Disease (a disorder much like Alzheimer’s in humans), Glen was put on medication. But it didn’t work.

Then things got worse. After a routine mammogram, his owner was diagnosed with breast cancer and a series of hospital appointments meant she was in and out the house more often.

Glen’s symptoms were exacerbated and the wee guy seemed miserable. Given the circumstances, it was difficult for his owner.

Eventually, after biopsies and MRI scans, her oncology consultant arranged a date for surgery to excise her cancer. She fretted about how Glen would react to her absence and worried more about him than her own recovery.

But the day dawned, she recovered well and her surgeon said he’d contact her with the pathology results that would determine whether she would need more surgery or chemotherapy.

But as soon as she got home, she knew she was OK. Remarkably, Glen was back to his usual calm self.

A week later, her consultant confirmed her cancer was completely gone. And with it went Glen’s agitation. How do they know?