Bob M
New member
We had a rough few days at the beginning of the month. On the Friday of Labor Day weekend, our Abbie suddenly became terribly ill, with violent vomiting and bloody diarrhea. It was one of the most frightening episodes I can recall, even in Abbie's long and difficult history.
Fortunately, our vet had not yet left for the holiday and we were able to bring Abbie right in. Within a couple of hours, blood tests brought the news that she was suffering from an attack of pancreatitis. The vet considered sending us to the emergency clinic two hours' drive away to hospitalize the dog with constant intravenous fluid replacement for the next few days-- her own facility being about to shut down for the holiday weekend.
Just as an aside, why do dogs insist on getting sick on major holidays? That was Abbie's poor daughter Sophie's story this New Year's, when Sue and her owner had to drive her to the distant emergency clinic through the snow. We avoided that this time, but there was an additional worry: a notice on the clinic door that our vet would be starting three weeks of medical leave come Tuesday. Since this a one-woman shop, that meant that should the problem persist, we'd have to rely on our backup vet, who does not know Abbie's history nearly so well.
Fortunately, the vet came up with a plan that would allow us to keep Abbie at home. I ended up learning how to administer saline solution subcutaneously: three bags a day through the weekend. They walked me through it at the animal hospital the first time, then after that I was on my own. Down to the basement, hang the bag from a floor joist overhead, hook up the lines, grab a fold of skin, take a deep breath and work the needle in. Abbie, ever patient, took it all without complaint, then sat with me quietly as the bag slowly emptied.
Following instructions, I held my finger over the site for a few minutes after withdrawing the needle to prevent the fluid from gushing back out. I had visions of a Newfoundland dog flying around the room like a loose balloon if I failed in this duty.
By Tuesday morning after the holiday, Abbie was nearly back to normal, and I could call the vet with a positive report. Things have continued to be stable since then, but yesterday the vet called with surprising news. Among the items awaiting her on her first partial day back at work was a lab report revealing that Abbie has both giardia and coccidia in her system.
My jaw hit the floor. It's hard to imagine where she picked these up, since Abbie leads the most sheltered life of our four dogs. With bad hips, two rebuilt knees, and a digestive problem that prevents her from metabolizing proteins properly, Abbie is pretty much of a homebody these days. Her favorite recreation is going for rides in the car, so she gets a lot of those, but she does not join us for walks on the beach or in the woods.
The vet suggested that Abbie's digestive issue might be indirectly responsible for the parasite problem. The steroids she takes to reduce her chronically inflamed intestines have an adverse side effect on her immune system, so she suspects that the infection might have resulted from the sort of chance encounter a healthier dog would easily have shaken off. For that reason, she is not too worried about our other three Newfs, though we have sent their stools off for testing just in case. (Still awaiting results.)
So, if it's not one thing with our Landseer girl, it's another, but we are fortunate to have a wonderful vet who's almost as fond of her as we are, and willing to dig deep and follow up a dog's problems, even when recovering from her own surgery.
And as an ironic sidenote, I'm getting over some medical woes of my own- a chronic lung inflammation that interfered with my breathing, sapped my energy, and left me feeling ready for the glue factory for much of the last year. Once the docs finally diagnosed my problem, the treatment was simple: the same steroids that Abbie takes. I'm already well on my way back to the pink of health, but I have a new empathy for my dog and the side effects she has to deal with.
However, though I will confess to stealing food off the counter several times in the last few weeks, I flatly deny all allegations of peeing on the carpet.
Fortunately, our vet had not yet left for the holiday and we were able to bring Abbie right in. Within a couple of hours, blood tests brought the news that she was suffering from an attack of pancreatitis. The vet considered sending us to the emergency clinic two hours' drive away to hospitalize the dog with constant intravenous fluid replacement for the next few days-- her own facility being about to shut down for the holiday weekend.
Just as an aside, why do dogs insist on getting sick on major holidays? That was Abbie's poor daughter Sophie's story this New Year's, when Sue and her owner had to drive her to the distant emergency clinic through the snow. We avoided that this time, but there was an additional worry: a notice on the clinic door that our vet would be starting three weeks of medical leave come Tuesday. Since this a one-woman shop, that meant that should the problem persist, we'd have to rely on our backup vet, who does not know Abbie's history nearly so well.
Fortunately, the vet came up with a plan that would allow us to keep Abbie at home. I ended up learning how to administer saline solution subcutaneously: three bags a day through the weekend. They walked me through it at the animal hospital the first time, then after that I was on my own. Down to the basement, hang the bag from a floor joist overhead, hook up the lines, grab a fold of skin, take a deep breath and work the needle in. Abbie, ever patient, took it all without complaint, then sat with me quietly as the bag slowly emptied.
Following instructions, I held my finger over the site for a few minutes after withdrawing the needle to prevent the fluid from gushing back out. I had visions of a Newfoundland dog flying around the room like a loose balloon if I failed in this duty.
By Tuesday morning after the holiday, Abbie was nearly back to normal, and I could call the vet with a positive report. Things have continued to be stable since then, but yesterday the vet called with surprising news. Among the items awaiting her on her first partial day back at work was a lab report revealing that Abbie has both giardia and coccidia in her system.
My jaw hit the floor. It's hard to imagine where she picked these up, since Abbie leads the most sheltered life of our four dogs. With bad hips, two rebuilt knees, and a digestive problem that prevents her from metabolizing proteins properly, Abbie is pretty much of a homebody these days. Her favorite recreation is going for rides in the car, so she gets a lot of those, but she does not join us for walks on the beach or in the woods.
The vet suggested that Abbie's digestive issue might be indirectly responsible for the parasite problem. The steroids she takes to reduce her chronically inflamed intestines have an adverse side effect on her immune system, so she suspects that the infection might have resulted from the sort of chance encounter a healthier dog would easily have shaken off. For that reason, she is not too worried about our other three Newfs, though we have sent their stools off for testing just in case. (Still awaiting results.)
So, if it's not one thing with our Landseer girl, it's another, but we are fortunate to have a wonderful vet who's almost as fond of her as we are, and willing to dig deep and follow up a dog's problems, even when recovering from her own surgery.
And as an ironic sidenote, I'm getting over some medical woes of my own- a chronic lung inflammation that interfered with my breathing, sapped my energy, and left me feeling ready for the glue factory for much of the last year. Once the docs finally diagnosed my problem, the treatment was simple: the same steroids that Abbie takes. I'm already well on my way back to the pink of health, but I have a new empathy for my dog and the side effects she has to deal with.
However, though I will confess to stealing food off the counter several times in the last few weeks, I flatly deny all allegations of peeing on the carpet.
