What My Dog's Cancer Diagnosis Taught Me About Mindset

In this age of immediate information, social media, and everyone having an opinion they feel the need to share, it’s understandable that we often quickly assume a perspective on all sorts of matters and stay committed to such—even when there are so many sides to every situation.

A seemingly innocuous example of this happened recently in my own home. Our beloved dog, Latte, started randomly urinating indoors—despite having been trained to go outside or on the pee pad and doing so diligently for years. Cleaning up “surprise messes” was never something we had to worry about doing—until we did.

Source: Gregg McBride

We couldn't tell if the frequent urination—sometimes even on furniture while we were nearby—was a result of our dog getting older, acting out, or simply having an accident. As the “random acts of peeing” became a recurring incident, we finally decided we had no choice but to use doggy diapers while Latte was indoors.

I quickly developed my own perspective on this. I was irritated, mainly because I didn’t want to have a dog that required diapers. Putting his diapers on, checking if they had been used, and then replacing them with a new diaper became a task that demanded attention several times a day. In addition, our wily little pooch became good at wriggling out of his diapers, adding a whole other dimension to these new tasks.

Then came my dog's annual medical appointment and the vet’s preparation to extract urine from him for a routine test. A pre-scan indicated a mass inside Latte’s bladder—a mass that looked suspiciously like cancer. We immediately ordered a cancer test and, after a week, found out that the furry love of our lives did, indeed, have bladder cancer.

Suddenly, everything having to do with this matter was different. Of course, our dog was peeing uncontrollably. He had a massive lump taking up space in his bladder. And on top of that, we were facing a dire medical condition that put a ticking clock on his remaining time with us.

We immediately sought out various treatment methods in a valiant effort to make him more comfortable and healthier—and to hopefully extend his time with us as much as we could without causing anxiety or pain to him.

Source: Gregg McBride

As you might imagine, my perspective on the subject of doggy diapers has shifted dramatically. I now approach putting diapers on Latte with more reverence, more care, more love. I’m grateful to be taking time to hold him, reassure him, put the diapers on, check if they’ve been used, and change them whenever necessary. I’ve even taken to being amused when he somehow wriggles out of the diapers. Cleaning up an “accident” is now done with a smile and gratitude. All of this is proof he’s still here—that we still have time with him, whether it's days, weeks, months, or perhaps even more than that.

It has struck me that all of my perspectives could use a shift or at least a little room for movement. I’d like to think I’m an open-minded person. Yet, here is a beautiful reminder that there are always other opinions and circumstances to consider. There are always different ways of looking at life’s situations and always unknowns that I am not aware of when forming points of view. So why not be a little more flexible? A little more allowing? A little more accepting of people and/or circumstances that initially seem to rub my psyche the wrong way?

Our dog Latte has taught me many life lessons. Even when challenged by cancer, he continues to do so—and for that, me and my many (now-softening) opinions, are grateful.