I love it when they sleep all close like this. I’m pretty sure neither one of them has been all that delighted with January. Margot has been in a clown collar and a cone much of the month and had to endure pills and creams. Guinness has been treated for ear infections all month, requiring multiple visits to the vet.
And of course, it wouldn’t be a true month of dog drama without at least one visit to the ER vet. Sunday evening, also known as Day 3 of My Migraine, Guinness staggered into the kitchen. We thought maybe she’d hurt her leg jumping off the bed or something. But as the hours passed, she had more bizarre symptoms that made me wonder if she was having a stroke or seizures. We thought she was probably okay until the vet opened at 7 am Monday, so we all went to bed. But I couldn’t sleep, and I kept checking her, and finally I looked at Tom and said, “We’re going.”
We left a sleepy and disgruntled Margot at Tim’s since we didn’t know how long we’d be gone, and Tom, Guinness, and I headed for V.E.R.G.I. As soon as we went in and began describing her symptoms, they were all, “Oh, yeah, vestibular disease.” It could be from the ear infections, she could have an inner ear infection, it could be because she’s an old dog, or it could be for reasons unknown, but basically, her world is spinning around her, her eyes are moving from side to side trying to track what she’s seeing, she’s staggering and falling because her balance is off, she doesn’t know if she’s standing, sitting, lying down–I had nights like that in college, and like Guinness, I threw up, too.
Anyway, we continue the ear washes and she gets another round of steroids, oral antibiotics, and anti-nausea meds. She’s doing MUCH better now. She’s still not a hundred percent, but we’re crossing our fingers for a full recovery. She may go through it again, but the next time we’ll know what to do and I won’t freak out. Probably.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the two of them–they are the best dogs in the world–but mercy, the vet bills this month. Just a reminder: I have art for sale! If you can’t find anything you like on my site, we can talk about custom pieces. If a painting you’re interested in is on exhibit, I can get it back for you. I will also negotiate prices on existing works. Won’t someone please think of the puppies?
I am so sorry to hear about the health issues the girls are having … I know how worried you must be. With Dash getting older, I look at everything differently. He missed jumping on the bed a couple of times, I got him doggie stairs. He never misses them now and doesnt use the stairs. He’s lost some weight and I was sure something was wrong , the vet said he is fine and it’s probably the extra walking we are doing ( I should drop it like he does.) He is still happy and wonderful, but I worry.
I hope they are feeling better … and I hope you are feeling better about it too.
Just as I was about to answer you, poor Guinness had a Help–I can’t walk!–moment. It really is like she’s drunk.
If you’re like me, when you see your aging dog have a senior moment, you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I guess I do both. These are the hard parts, but they’re what we take on, and they’re not a drop in the bucket to all the good they bring us.
One redeeming thing: WE worry and fret and fear for them, but they don’t. They live in the moment, meet a challenge as they have to, and enjoy all the stuff that makes their lives good. That’s why they can be our greatest teachers.
Which is similar to what dash’s vet said, he’s adapted to his problems – and made me adapt as well… and there are some good things, every belly rub doesnt end up in a wrestling match and we sleep through the night now because we’re deaf and can’t hear the chipmunks that live under the porch.
Good Times.
M
Could you paint me a picture of flowers in an Italian field?
Poor dogs. Phoebe and I both agree that it’s hell getting old. Hope they’re both back to par soon!
Why, it JUST so happens I have a painting like the one you describe. The original buyer backed out–it’s $300. How shall I charge you?!?
Thanks–if only Margot, Guinness, and Phoebe could sit on a front porch together and compare stories like the little old ladies they are…
Can’t Dash join them, his teeth in a cup next to him …
Absolutely.