Guinness’s New Normal

I’ve spoken before about what it’s like to see my dogs aging. I think I probably wouldn’t notice the differences so much if Tim’s younger dogs didn’t provide a contrast. For example, when my dogs go to the vet now for checkups, booster shots, etc., they come home and sleep for hours, as if the entire process has drained them. Tim’s Pixie and Penny recently went for their semi-annual visits, not many days after Margot and Guinness, and their energy levels never seemed to flag at all. And of course, Pollock, at about six months old, has boundless energy and is fazed by nothing.

Margot, Guinness, and Pixie have all had some kind of stomach bug that required antibiotics. Both Margot and Guinness are showing signs of arthritis pain, so now Margot gets the same chewable supplement that Guinness has been taking for a while. Both dogs love these and have no idea they’re healthy.

Guinness’s blood test results showed she probably has chronic kidney disease. It’s not curable or reversible, but it can be managed. For starters, she has a new dog food. The vet said it’s not very tasty and was worried that Guinness might not want to eat. She clearly doesn’t know Guinness, who thinks if she’s awake, it’s meal time. She hasn’t shown any reluctance to eat the new food, but we’re still mixing a little canned with the dry because if it’s all designed to be be easier on her kidneys, she may as well get some pleasure out of it, too. Canned food is like dessert to her.

One reason dogs might lose their appetite with kidney disease is that they have more stomach acid and can even get ulcers. So now Guinness gets a Pepcid every day. Since this comes wrapped in a ball of that same canned food, she thinks it’s an hors d’oeuvre.

She did have high blood pressure at her vet visit, but it’s hard to know if that’s just stress–she gets very anxious at the vet because she has separation anxiety–or part of her disease. We might eventually have to get a dog blood pressure monitor to use at home when she’s calm just to keep a record of her numbers. If it doesn’t improve, she might get medication for that, too.

One thing that recently surprised us is that Guinness began crying when we put her in her crate. She and Margot have always been crate trained and never minded being crated. What they discovered at the vet is that as long as Guinness and Margot were in the same crate, Guinness was fine. But when they separated them, the outcry began immediately. We checked it out at home, and they are right. Guinness is fine in the crate as long as her sister’s there, too. So we have upgraded from two smaller crates to one larger one. This will really cut into Margot’s alone time and her output of emo poetry, but we all have to make some sacrifices. I’ve told Margot that like any writer, she should consider this “material.”

Another challenge with kidney disease is that a dog will drink either too much water but still be dehydrated, or lose interest in drinking. We had noticed that Guinness was drinking more, and I’d talked on here before about how she was no longer allowed to sleep on our bed because of her “leaking.” Tom and I both accept that some canine incontinence comes with old age, but Guinness now has this additional challenge of kidney disease. This is where subcutaneous fluids come in.

In this case, I have discovered that I’m useless. I use lancets to check my own blood one or more times daily, and I used to stick Lynne’s dog Sparky with insulin shots, and none of that bothers me at all. But I find that I simply don’t want to stick Guinness. She doesn’t like it, and I flinch at the thought of hurting her. I can get everything ready, stand by with a sterile pad or towel to get any blood or leaking solution, and give her treats so she doesn’t pay much attention to the stick. But I can’t be the one who sticks her. Tom’s willing to do it, but so far, Tim’s taken on the task, because he’s administered sub-q fluids to other animals.

I hang the bag from a hook on my office doorframe where wind chimes from my sister-in-law Janet and my great-niece Morgan hang.

Tim gives her the fluids.

Afterward, Guinness will have a lump under her skin where the fluid sits until it’s slowly absorbed into her system–this can take eight or more hours. The lump moves based on what position she lies in. This gives us lots of opportunity to quote lines from the movie Young Frankenstein to her.

She can tell that when the three of us gather and Tim sits on the floor, it doesn’t augur well for her. I hope that in time, she’ll get used to the process. A few minutes after it’s all over, she’s snoring as usual.