By Ellie Falaris

Special to The Sentinel

They don't call her "Lucky" for nothing.

Lucky is no ordinary Shetland sheepdog. This bounding ball of energy makes her home in Darnestown, where owner Rik Davis said she acts half her age. One would never think that this pooch endured brain surgery only three months ago.

Nearly problem-free in her 12-year existence, Lucky suddenly became very lethargic in February.

"She started acting funny," Davis said. "She was tired, she wouldn't bark at the UPS guy ... I knew something was wrong with her."

Lucky went into a seizure a day later, and was taken to an animal hospital in Gaithersburg. There, she received an MRI scan where Dr. Steven Steinberg discovered the culprit: a tumor lodged in the front of her skull.

A nasal infection from just outside her skull pushed against the tumor from Lucky's nasal passage.

"It was that [infection] that had caused all the acute problems. So if it wasn't for the infection, we wouldn't have found the tumor," Davis said.

Miraculously, three days after the scan, Lucky returned to her lively self. Along one of her daily walks, Lucky rolled in the grass as per usual in a way that Davis said was the "epitome of life is great."

But despite her energetic nature, the presence of the tumor was still looming. Animal neurologist Steinberg decided the best plan would be to operate to remove it and to treat the infection. He noted that the type of tumor that Lucky had, a slow-growing meningioma, was a fairly typical one and was a common procedure for him to remove. Most animals, he said, do just fine.

But for Lucky, he had estimated a 15 to 20 percent chance that Lucky die within days of the operation.

"It was a large tumor, and she has a small head," Davis said. Dr. Steinberg predicted the operation would take a lot out of her, given the tumor's size.

Against the odds, Lucky endured the 4-hour, $7,000 surgery splendidly. Typically, post-surgery symptoms range from trouble walking to temporary blindness or incontinence, which can last up to three months. But as soon as the vets released Lucky from her cramped recovery cage, she bolted out, recalled Davis.

"She would have gone right out the front door," he said.

Lucky's surgery is just one example of the growing number of veterinary operations in recent years. While more medical developments unfold, pet owners are also willing to spend more money on their pets. Davis pointed out that 20 years ago, animals were simply put to sleep.

Lucky's regular veterinarian Chet Anderson agreed, citing the improvements in MRI scans. In the past, scans were "a shot in the dark," which made proving the presence of a tumor very difficult. But today, imaging techniques have gotten much better, he said. Nonetheless, Anderson noted that many of his clients still choose not to do surgery.

Steinberg has performed around 100 operations and has not observed a particular increase since he started performing them.

Since there is a 20 to 25 percent chance the tumor that was in her skull may come back, chemotherapy may be a "viable option," Steinberg said.

For the time being, Lucky's self-fulfilling name holds true.

"It's amazing," said Anderson. "Lucky is doing well. She's running, playing, living life. If we hadn't done the surgery, Lucky would not be with us here today."

Photo by Bill Wyckoff