GO FUND ME LINK
We are grateful for the outpouring of love and support that Blue has already received. Thank you. We developed this page to keep those interested posted on his condition. We will post updates as we get them.
Blue was born on June 22, 2020, on the south side of Chicago to a highly experienced breeder named Margarita, who has dedicated nearly 50 years of her life to raising Dobermans. During the height of the COVID era, finding any dog was a challenge, and a purebred Doberman was nearly impossible. I spent countless hours researching breeders across the country, studying upcoming litters and availability. Margarita was the only breeder with a puppy available—due to a last-minute cancellation, leaving a beautiful black and tan male waiting for a home. On August 29, 2020, we drove five hours from metro Detroit to bring Blue into our family.
As a retired police officer, I’ve had the privilege of sharing my life with many remarkable dogs, including two other Dobermans. Over time, I learned that this breed stands apart—an extraordinary combination of elegance, strength, and loyalty. Dobermans embody power and grace, with their sleek, athletic build and glossy coat. Intelligent and fearless, they excel in training and protection while being gentle and affectionate with their families. Despite my experience, Blue shattered all my expectations. His devotion and love for us are beyond compare.
Blue is not just strikingly handsome; he has a unique and endearing quality that can only be described as pure love. For example, when he enjoys his favorite meal—chicken—he often gently takes a piece from his bowl and places it in a family member’s lap as if to share his joy. The same applies to his favorite treats and toys, which he offers with the same thoughtful gesture.
Speaking of toys, Blue has dozens, and he knows each one by name. His excitement for a new toy is unmatched, and the moment we name it, he remembers it. Every time we come home, even after just a short trip, Blue greets us with his whole body wagging and proudly presenting one of his beloved toys.
Blue’s playful and mischievous nature adds to his charm. He loves to “steal” items, with socks being a particular favorite. Sometimes, he even orchestrates distractions, luring us to one part of the house while he dashes back to grab something left unattended.
Yet, Blue’s life hasn’t been without challenges. He struggles with severe allergies, living in a yard surrounded by towering oak trees in metro Detroit. Regular baths and Cytopoint injections help manage his symptoms, but it remains an ongoing issue. His protective instincts are also intense, patrolling tirelessly and barking at anything he deems a threat—whether it’s a squirrel, a delivery truck, or even a spider.
One significant challenge has been his behavior in vehicles. While he eagerly jumps into the car, once the engine starts, he becomes uncontrollable—barking, darting, and slobbering with such intensity that even ear protection barely helps. Road trips are nearly impossible, making travel with Blue a daunting task.
The Incident That Has Blue Struggling to Survive
About three months ago, Blue and I were in the front room when he became frantic, likely triggered by a squirrel on the front lawn. Dobermans are one of the fastest dog breeds, capable of sprinting at 35-40 mph, and Blue, a muscular and lean 75 pounds, can do every bit of that. He bolted at full speed from the front room, heading toward the rear door wall. In his Terminator-like determination, he slid on the hard floor and crashed headlong into the sharp corner of a brick wall.
I was sitting on the couch, watching the scene unfold in slow motion, mentally anticipating the disaster about to happen. My mind raced, almost pausing the moment. Though the incident took less than a second, I had time to imagine the worst: Blue shattering the left side of his body, collapsing in agony, and I being unable to get him to the vet in time. I feared he would thrash in pain, screaming, and that I’d face the unimaginable task of ending his suffering myself in the yard.
But when time resumed, Blue hit the wall exactly as I had feared—but to my astonishment, he didn’t make a sound. Instead, he got up and dashed outside, determined to find that squirrel. (For context, Blue has never harmed anything; when he catches up to squirrels, he simply leaves them alone.)
Though I was relieved in the moment, I had no idea that crash would set us on a heartbreaking journey we’d still be fighting three months later.
The Lump Appears
A couple of days after the crash, we noticed a lump growing on the top left side of Blue’s neck. It didn’t seem to bother him at first, but when it didn’t go down and began enlarging over the next couple of weeks, we took him to the vet. I described the brick wall incident in detail, and the vet examined the lump. She said it was very unusual, unlike anything she’d seen before. Since Blue had full motor functions and showed no pain, she performed a fine needle aspiration in four locations and sent the slides to Michigan State University for analysis. The results were inconclusive.
She explained that since the lump was clearly visible, an X-ray wouldn’t add much, and an ultrasound wasn’t typically used for this type of issue. She recommended a CT scan if the lump didn’t improve soon. She also offered anti-inflammatory medication, but since Blue wasn’t in pain and I prefer to avoid unnecessary drugs, we decided to hold off. Her main concern was the lump’s location and lack of margins, suggesting it was likely inoperable.
Unfortunately, the lump continued to grow.
Seeking Answers, Finding None
We sought a second opinion from another veterinarian. After a costly visit, the result was the same: “I’ve never seen anything like it.” This vet referred us to a specialty hospital dealing with cancer and trauma. That visit was not a good experience. For a $220 consultation fee, we saw a senior doctor who barely examined Blue, didn’t touch him, and provided a two-page estimate for a $6,000 CT scan and biopsy. She reiterated that the mass was likely inoperable and probably cancerous.
Hearing “inoperable” and “probably cancer” repeatedly began to sink in, and we started bracing ourselves for the worst. The idea of putting Blue through a painful biopsy, described as removing a pinky-sized chunk of flesh, seemed cruel, especially since we wouldn’t pursue chemotherapy. We opted out of the CT scan for the same reason—everyone was saying the lump was inoperable regardless of what it was. We started Blue on Carprofen to keep him comfortable.
But the lump didn’t stop. It grew faster, doubling in size over the next week, spreading from the left side of his neck to the right. Blue struggled to lift his head, his daily activities slowed dramatically, and he began spending most of his time lying down. Still, his appetite remained intact, even as the lump—now weighing nearly five pounds—sapped his strength.
Refusing to Give Up
We couldn’t accept the idea of euthanizing Blue without exhausting every option. While we feel most of the doctors dismissed the impact injury as insignificant, we knew it had the force of a car crash and couldn’t be ignored. We scheduled a CT scan with a cancer specialty center.
The consultation was another disappointment for us, as Blue’s case was so strange. Like before, we heard: “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Even though all the doctors had decades of experience, hundreds of thousands of patients, and extensive knowledge of cancer, they were stumped. I asked, “How is it possible that none of you have seen this before? You’ve surely seen countless cancerous lumps—but you haven’t seen an 80-pound Doberman crash into a brick wall at 35 mph.” I thought at least some of the focus had to be on the impact injury and that it could not be completely discounted.
During the week between the consultation and the CT scan, Blue’s health deteriorated rapidly. He could barely move, flopping to the floor like a fish out of water and crying in pain. We rushed him to the cancer center, where a compassionate oncologist finally offered some relief. She performed an X-ray and ultrasound, finding no skeletal damage but suggesting a possible hematoma. A fine needle aspiration revealed no cancer cells. She administered a ketamine injection, which temporarily reduced his pain.
A Last Chance for Hope
The CT scan finally provided clarity:
“The scan revealed a solitary large left dorsal cervical soft tissue mass without evidence of lymphadenopathy, aggressive bone lesions, or pulmonary metastasis. Given the history of trauma, a hematoma was suspected. However, malignancy cannot be ruled out.”
This result hinted at trauma rather than cancer, but the lump’s rapid growth puzzled even the doctor. She referred us to a surgeon at a specialty center staffed by Michigan State University professors, however, when I contacted them the next day I was told they wouldn’t get to my information for at least a week.
I spent hours calling all the specialty centers, surgeons, and hospitals I could find, and finally, we secured a consultation—and miraculously, a next-day surgery slot on December 4th, 2024.
The Surgery
The surgeon was confident. She reviewed Blue’s records and told us, “I don’t think this is cancer. I think it’s a hematoma, and Blue still has a bleeding vessel feeding it.”
Three hours later, Blue was in surgery. The doctor called after two hours to share the results: she had located several bleeding vessels and stopped the bleeding. She removed five pounds of bloody hematoma tissue.
Recovery and Continued Prayers
Blue is still in ICU, where his neck has swollen to about 50% of its original size. The swelling could indicate fluid buildup from surgery, but it’s too early to tell. We’re waiting on additional blood tests sent to Cornell University to rule out rare bleeding disorders.
We’re currently over $14,000 in medical bills, with ICU costs at $1,500-$2,000 per day. If Blue requires additional surgery, the costs could double. His recovery will be long, with follow-up visits and physical therapy ahead.
We are asking for prayers and support for Blue. If you’d like to help, please consider sharing or contributing to his GoFundMe page. Thank you for being with us during this incredibly difficult journey.
