Osteosarcoma (OSA) has been found in every vertebrate class and has even been identified in dinosaur fossils, but it appears to be more prevalent...
Mast cell tumors (MCTs) are the most common form of malignant skin cancer that occurs in dogs, accounting for about 14 to 21 percent...
Osteosarcoma is the most common type of bone tumor diagnosed in dogs, affecting an estimated 10,000 dogs each year in the U.S. alone. Too many owners are aware that this disease can be extremely aggressive with a poor prognosis.
Mast cell tumors (MCTs) are one of the most frequent skin cancers seen in dogs. Mast cell tumors are the reason why careful monitoring of any skin growths is essential for maintaining a healthy canine. Any new masses on the skin should be evaluated by your veterinarian. In regards to MCTs, there are several predisposed breeds including Boxers, American Staffordshire terriers, and pit bulls.
Weight loss may be the first sign of cancer in dogs and can be easy to miss at home. As your dog ages, your veterinarian will likely recommend bloodwork, urinalysis, and other diagnostics. These can detect changes in organ function, possibly indicating cancer.
The cause of hemangiomas is idiopathic (unknown). These growths usually don't appear until at least middle age. Thin-skinned, light-colored breeds often experience hemangiomas. You'll most likely find a hemangioma on the dog's trunk or legs, especially hairless areas like the lower abdomen.
Veterinary oncologists say that cancers in humans and in dogs are incredibly similar, in terms of growth and prognosis. That's good news for both species, as research of human or canine cancer may yield insight about and new treatments for this deadly disease. In addition, many of the tactics that reduce the incidence of cancer in humans, veterinary oncologists say, can be used by pet owners to reduce the chances that their dogs will develop the disease. Here are four things you can do to help prevent cancer in your dog.
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Many dogs do just fine after amputation necessitated by osteosarcoma. A new vaccine may help them continue to enjoy life even longer.
Uh-oh. What’s this lump? Any growth on your dog’s body deserves attention, especially one that wasn’t there last time you checked. It could be a sebaceous cyst (a sac filled with sebum, a cheesy or oily material, caused by clogged oil glands in the skin), an abscess (a pus-filled swelling caused by infection), or – everyone’s worst nightmare – a cancerous tumor. But in most cases, the lumps we discover as we pet and groom our dogs are lipomas, which are benign (non-cancerous) fat deposits, also known as fatty tumors. An estimated 1.7 million dogs are treated in the United States for lipomas every year, and according to one survey, American veterinarians average 25 lipoma removals annually at a cost to owners of $635 million. Lipomas tend to emerge as dogs reach middle age and increase in number as dogs get older. A dog with one lipoma is likely to get more. Lipomas are most often found on the chest, abdomen, legs, or armpits (axillae). These fatty lumps aren’t painful and they usually stay in one place without invading surrounding tissue.
It's a ton of fun to see an athletic, healthy dog sprinting across a sprawling lawn of thick green grass but could this practice be dangerous to the dog's health? A study presented in the January 2012 issue of the journal Environmental Research concluded that exposure to professionally applied lawn pesticides was associated with a significantly (70 percent) higher risk of canine malignant lymphoma (CML). It's a broad conclusion and light on specifics. The case-control study, conducted between January 2000 and December 2006 at the Foster Hospital for Small Animals at Tufts University's Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine, was structured around a 10-page questionnaire that was mailed to dog owners who were having their pets treated at the Foster Hospital; the resulting data came from the owners of 266 dogs with confirmed cases of CML and 478 dogs in two control groups (non-CML cases).
Cancer. My heart dropped to my stomach. In February 2010 my Border Collie Daisy became one of an estimated six million dogs diagnosed with cancer each year. Chemotherapy. My stomach tumbled to my feet. The diagnosis was scary enough; how could I possibly consider chemotherapy? I had visions of a treatment worse than the disease itself. As it turns out, my preconceptions of chemotherapy were far worse than its reality. Chemo hasn't cured my dog more on that later but it's given us more than 18 months (and counting) of joyful, quality time together.