TRACI ANGEL Jackson Hole News and Guide | Posted: Monday, August 18, 2008 12:00 am
JACKSON (AP) - Kobe stares out from glassy eyes as he hobbles on three legs to greet a visitor in the driveway.
Canary-colored stitching stretches across the Rottweiler's ebony chest where his front left leg should be. His teeth have been filed to nubbins.
Kobe is not himself today, owner Elisa Colello says. She just collected him from his second round of chemotherapy. He doesn't want to chase his tennis ball.
He turns his ahead away from a mixing bowl of Green Giant vegetables and chopped chicken breasts Colello stirs by hand for his dinner. His stomach is empty, but he won't eat.
His feeble demeanor makes it difficult to believe authorities once considered him so aggressive and dangerous that he should have been killed. If Colello's former neighbors from Rafter J, and Teton County officials, had their way, he would have been euthanized five years ago after chomped at the cheek of Colello's granddaughter, Alexandra Hubbs.
Now Kobe, named for the Los Angeles Lakers superstar, is terminally ill with bone cancer. An examination of his front leg earlier this year revealed a tumor and mutated cells spreading throughout his skeleton. At the doctor's suggestions, one of his front legs was removed to relieve pain.
Ten years is old for a Rottweiler. It's not long enough for Colello. Kobe's time is limited. If he's lucky, he has another a year, bought through chemotherapy that could lend a few more months.
His illness may bring good, though. Colello offered Kobe for an experimental therapy that researchers at Colorado State University recommended for his particular cancer, osteosarcoma. Results from how he responds could mean a better treatment for humans suffering from primary bone cancer that more commonly affects young adults whose limbs are still growing.
His is a story about redemption, a dog already on borrowed time endures so others may benefit. His owner hopes his sacrifice over his last months outlives his scarred legacy.
No one but 11-month old Alexandra "Ally" Hubbs, Colello's granddaughter, and then 5-year-old Kobe, were there for the incident that happened in Colello's bedroom in Rafter J on the evening of Sept. 20, 2003.
Officers investigating the incident were able to get the following information, which comes from reports:
Ally's mother, Tasha, was watching TV in the other room. The baby crawled into Colello's bedroom, where Kobe spent much of his time. It was his turf. His rawhide bone was also there. Tasha heard Kobe bark. Ally started crying. Tasha went to the bedroom and saw two gashes on the infant's left cheek where Kobe's teeth had punctured the flesh. Tasha carried the child outside to meet an ambulance. The wound Kobe left was one inch in diameter and required 90 stitches. The little girl slept at St. John's Medical Center that night. The bite would become infected a few days later.
Colello was out of town at a wedding when the incident happened. She told police she suspected that the attack was territorial, because Kobe claimed the room as his own.
After news of the bite, neighbors made their own complaints about Kobe. They wanted him put down.
Jan Lovett, who lived next door, said she was concerned because Kobe charged the fence.
David Hewitt, who lived across the street, told police he felt Kobe was dangerous.
Other neighbors admitted to using pepper spray to stop aggressive behavior.
Colello turned Kobe over to animal control a week after the incident. Prosecutor Elizabeth Cunningham filed charges against Colello in October. The attorneys, Teton County Sheriff Bob Zimmer and judges all said at the time they were frustrated about the vague nature of the law governing the case.
Colello insisted she would relocate so they wouldn't have to put Kobe to sleep. She moved out of the Rafter J neighborhood almost immediately.
Two months later, the court ordered Colello to pay a $200 fine, and Kobe was saved from death under conditions that he stay in a guest house outside Jackson, not be allowed around any child except on leash and under control, be kept within a chain-link kennel or on leash, be barred from Jackson town limits and have his teeth filed. Colello was ordered to post a $50,000 bond, or letter of credit, in the event the dog injured someone else.
Kobe was released to her - $25,000 in legal fees later.
Today, Colello continues to fight for her dog, but this time, for his health.
Kobe goes with Colello everywhere. In winter, that means to New Orleans. Then they return to Jackson Hole for the warmer, summer months.
Kobe was limping when they returned to the valley in May. Colello couldn't coax him down stairs at her South Park home.
Stewart Ryan, assistant professor at Colorado State University, diagnosed Kobe's condition as osteosarcoma, which can result in a decreasing bone mass and excruciating pain.
The fact that Kobe had primary bone cancer made him a likely candidate for an experimental therapy that could eventually be applied to humans with both secondary or primary bone cancer. The treatment consists of injecting a high dose of radium into the patient.
Colello says it was easy to go ahead with the trial treatment, especially if it might help kids, such as her granddaughter, Ally.
"I can't imagine going through this with a child," she says.
The initial result of the treatment could be encouraging for patients with secondary bone cancers because it may decrease pain and prevent breaks in a bone weakened by disease, Ryan says. The treatment is showing positive results on patients in Europe and in other animal studies, he says.
Those who wanted Kobe put to sleep five years ago see the twist of events as a positive.
"At the time, the dog's behavior had me form an opinion that the dog should be put down," Teton County sheriff Bob Zimmer said. Colello took the necessary steps to protect the neighbors, he says. Zimmer says it was an unfortunate incident and he's sorry about the dog's condition.
"If the dog is being used for research because it has cancer and is dying, then that is a good use," Zimmer says.