Obsessed, that’s what I had become. There is no kinder word for it. We were exploring every notion, every bit of advice and every home remedy. I would sit for hours surfing the web, sniffing out anything that sounded promising. The end result was a combination of supplements that seemed to give him some relief over time.
One of the more surreal efforts was a trip to an animal acupuncturist – yes, I wrote that correctly. The whole experience was quite fascinating, not to mention expensive. The level of desperation will be apparent here: we followed this on the recommendation of a car salesman (my sincerest apologies to any Blogger car sales peeps – we know it’s only temporary) who swore on his Civic that this acupuncturist helped his arthritic dog immensely. This guy was booked out 3 weeks and the sessions were $75 a throw – er – poke.
The day arrived for the session and after waiting for 30 minutes we were ushered into a small room with no chairs and some bizarre incense burning in the corner. The practitioner came in looking like a shaman wannabe throwback from Haight Ashbury, circa 1969. He was VERY soft-spoken and had that blissed out countenance that smacked of many moons of herbal inhalation. Taylor took to him immediately and we all sat on the large hooked rug. He sort of explained what was about to happen after asking a few disconnected questions and suddenly we were looking at a totally blissed out furry pin cushion – yes, this practitioner was that good. Taylor was completely happy and it was at least 30 minutes before the needles came out. I was thinking, “Do me, do me next!”
We left with a very energetic dog and a bag of some ground herbal medley and a lighter wallet – cash only please! Taylor was better for some time; not perfect, but better. We decided to wait until after the first of the year for the next appointment. I called the breeder to share the good news and she sighed heavily into the phone! Wha’? This was supposed to be good news!
She was apparently on the way home from a surgical clinic in Sun Valley where she had taken Taylor’s sister for a hip exam. The dog was coming home with a prosthetic hip. Holy cow! How could these puppies have so many orthopedic issues? This litter came from 2 excellent lines with very minimal issues and now this! Over the next month three other littermates were found to have ortho issues as well. Half the litter and the breeder was devastated. I will say for the breeder, that she hung in there with us all. She would call if she hadn’t heard anything in a couple of days; always checking on the dog’s various conditions and offering what help and advice she could. She had been breeding for quite a while and said that his particular litter, more so than all the rest, had just burnt holes in the hearts of all who had them despite their difficulties. There was some comfort in numbers I suppose.
It was nearing the end of January and the Buffle-pooch had been doing quite well despite his swollen elbows. Our walks were still short and getting up was always a trial, but he was maintaining. A new acupuncture appointment had been made and I had already decided to take Taylor to the clinic in Sun Valley for further evaluation. Between the breeder and recommendations by others during my endless research had pointed favorably toward this clinic as one of the forerunners in Big Dog orthopedics.
Buffledog had outgrown the bathtub for his baths and an exploratory trip to the local self-service dog wash was undertaken. He was remarkably well behaved in this new environment but there was some difficulty in getting him up into the tub. We had already been using a set of plastic spa steps to get him in and out of the Explorer so we brought them in as an assist. Everything seemed fine at the time. The next morning I awoke to him whining at the bottom of the stairs. He usually came up and would stick a wet, cold nose in my face to announce that “they” were hungry. When I came down I saw, to my absolute and utter horror that he wasn’t weighting his left rear leg. Holy shit! Was there an end to this??? This poor, miserable fluff-ball was now in trouble on 3 corners. He didn’t understand and neither did I. I picked up the phone and left a message at the vet that we would be there when the doors opened.
He stayed for the day and the doctor diagnosed him with a torn cruciate ligament in the left knee! WHAT!? He wasn’t active enough to have torn his ligament. The doctor recommended surgery as soon as we could arrange it. We had several options and one was to have a TPLO (Tibial Plateau Leveling Osteotomy). Shit, I didn’t even like the sound of this but it reportedly had a much higher success rate, shorter convalescence and was stronger than a repair of the ligament itself. The very clinic in Sun Valley was very highly regarded in this operation, having done thousands of them, so we decided to make the journey and have them evaluate his elbows while we were there. In for a penny, in for a pound!
Taylor, Brother & Mom
It was a grueling trip over with virtually impassable winter conditions across the Blue Mountains at night. We stopped in Boise to see the breeder, new puppies, Taylor’s mom and brother and then on to Sun Valley for some help! Now it is both amusing and frustrating that the Buffledog was weighting his leg by the time we arrived in Boise and even the breeder was raising her eyebrows as to our sanity. He was actually walking normally by the time we got to the clinic and the doctor raised his eyebrows as well. He didn’t think the ligament was torn, but we all decided to sedate the Boy and do a series of x-rays on both his front end and back end. Hips, knees, ankles, wrist and elbows all were going to be on film. The upshot of the exam was that he didn’t have a torn ligament – maybe a sprained ankle, but no significant damage. All the other joints were in good working order except the elbows and they confirmed that the initial diagnosis was correct with some minor discrepancies. This was the expert I had been waiting for his opinion and the disappointing news was that he didn’t feel like Taylor was a good candidate for elbow surgery. He said they could go in and scope the joints but said he knew what he would see. He said the indications were that the Buffle-pooch had some “kissing lesions” on the elbow. These were areas of missing cartilage and the bones were rubbing together, i.e.: beginning osteo-arthritis. There really was little to do but keep him on pain meds (Rimadyl), control his weight and keep his exercise to a minimum with little or no roughhousing.
SHIT, PISS, FUCK AND DAMN!!!!! It was a long and disappointing ride home.
Now don’t get me wrong, we were extremely grateful that he didn’t have to have the TPLO performed. We were extremely grateful that our wallet wasn’t as flat as it might have been. What I found so disappointing was coming away with so little hope being offered for his elbows - that was beyond painful.
The Bookie-pooch had a big adventure and was sleeping peacefully in the back. Hot Sauce fell asleep and I was left feeling like I was between the devil and the deep blue sea – angry about an unsolvable problem.
I slowly began to develop an unbounded resolve as I burrowed on through the blinding snow and the darkness in the wee early hours of a new day.
