I’ve been slowly collecting pieces in order to assemble an art wall in my office – I’m pretty close to a full wall, and this lovely print definitely fit the bill. It’s called “Out of the Stubble” by Archibald Thorburn, and according to this print it’s a special supplement to the “Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News” August 28, 1897. Thirty bucks, perfectly beat up wood frame included.
Well, nothing horrible has happened to our pet family in a few weeks so I think it’s safe to go back to my regularly scheduled programming.
My Finnegan’s Flea Market finds have been multiplying nicely – time to hurry up and start sharing them with you. This week it’s all about the perfect pitcher. Whether it’s to accompany a fragrant cup of tea with a splash of milk or to fill with wildflowers, who doesn’t need a pitcher (or five). This charming little number has a woodland pheasant scene that I couldn’t resist. Seven bucks.
If you are squeamish or adverse to reading about bodily functions, you may want to skip reading this post – that being said, if you have a dog it could help save your fur monster’s life, so please read on if you can. I’m going to try and be as detailed as possible in the hopes that it might be helpful to somebody.
Our beloved Panda bear is fine today. Bouncy, smiling, eyes and coat shining. Ten days ago she almost died. We still don’t know why, and likely never will, but her symptoms were specific enough that I think it’s important to share them.
On a Monday, Panda started exhibiting signs of minor indigestion. You know, nothing serious, just softer poop than usual. Every dog owner has experienced this. Dogs eat everything. Panda proudly subscribes to a strict policy of “eat now, ask questions later”. So naturally I decided to let things run their course, but I kept a watchful eye on her. A few days went by, nothing changed – she didn’t get better but she didn’t get worse, either. Everything else was the same. Appetite, mood, energy levels were all normal. I Googled “how long should I wait if my dog has indigestion”… I didn’t get a good answer, but I did stumble on a bunch of articles about a condition called HGE: Hemorrhagic Gastroenteritis. I had never heard of this condition before, and it sounded terrifying. I started watching Panda more carefully just in case, but she really seemed to be fine other than the mild tummy upset.
On Wednesday night, Panda woke me up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. I let her out, puzzled – she’d never done this before. It was 3am and pouring rain; I followed her around with a flashlight, in my bathrobe and rain boots. She didn’t seem sicker than before, but the situation felt odd. We went back to bed and watched tv together before catching a few more hours of sleep. Thursday was business as usual: several walks, meals anticipated and enjoyed as always, chasing the ball in the backyard that evening.
On Thursday night, Panda woke me up three times. We must have slept two hours that night. She would try and go to the bathroom and very little would come out. She was acting a little hyper and I knew it was because she felt uncomfortable – I was really concerned at this point and decided to call the vet as soon as they opened the next day.
Friday morning, sleep-deprived and worried, I called the vet – thankfully they had a spot for me in about three hours’ time. I decided not to give Panda her breakfast just in case she had some kind of obstruction. She wasn’t happy about this but I somehow resisted her irresistible face. While we were waiting for her appointment to come around, Panda threw up. I got more anxious. She was getting worse. She went outside and lay down – this was the first time all week that she was showing signs of not feeling well. I sat near her and watched her. She stood up, began to go to the bathroom… and all that came out was a lot of water and blood. I felt my stomach drop down into my toes as total panic and fear took hold. No! I packed her up into the car and we arrived at the vet early – luckily they were able to see us almost immediately and within about 90 minutes from that terrifying moment in the backyard she was isolated and hooked up to an IV.
Since Panda is a rescue, it was particularly heartbreaking as I knew that she probably thought I was abandoning her at her weakest and sickest – I went back that afternoon with a big towel that smelled like home and the vet was kind enough to let me sit with her for an hour. She tried incessantly to crawl out from under my feet and begged me with her eyes to let her come home. Nobody was able to tell me that she would be ok so it was a terrifying day. By that night they felt more confident that she was stabilizing so I went home and tried to eat, but the heartbeat of our house was gone and I could barely stand to be there. Third sleepless night, coming right up.
The next morning, I called the vet as soon as they were open and received the best news: Panda was smiling and had eaten a tiny bit of food. So far she was holding it down. If she was able to hold down food, she’d be able to take her medication orally, and she’d be able to come home. A few hours later I got the ok: come and get her! Much to the hospital’s chagrin, as they had all fallen in love with her. Why am I not surprised.
Panda had to follow a pretty involved food and medication schedule for the next week, and she continued to lose a bit of blood for a few more days before things cleared up. But she continued to improve and is now back to her kibble, her carrots and her usual self. Needless to say, I have become a hovering nightmare. Panda has added “puzzled and annoyed” to her gallery of daily expressions.
Why am I posting this long story? Because: another sweet doggie in our neighbourhood got the same thing. Unlike Panda, she started bleeding in the middle of the night – and by the time she was seen by a vet the next morning, it was too late. She passed away hours later. I can barely imagine the kind of pain and sadness her family has experienced. She was a friend of Panda’s that we always made a point of saying hello to and cuddling with, and I was devastated to learn that she had died. The entire neighbourhood is in shock and worried for their own pets.
There are many theories circulating – it’s been a very rainy summer, things have been more damp than usual – maybe they ate a bad mushroom, or perhaps bacteria was growing on a toy or a bone and they ingested it accidentally. Perhaps they inhaled some pathogenic spores. Or, worse, perhaps they consumed poison that was left out by somebody – for rats or raccoons I guess, which is bad enough, but I can’t even bear to think that anybody was deliberately trying to poison anybody’s pets. I can confirm that Panda has had all of her shots and has been vaccinated against Parvovirus, which is a very serious and highly contagious disease that exhibits symptoms similar to HGE. I spoke with some officials at city hall, discussed the situation with a well-respected local vet just to get a second opinion, emailed all the neighbours I knew who had dogs, and went door-to-door for those whose names I didn’t know and whose emails I didn’t have. I’m writing this blog post because perhaps sharing what happened will help save your dog’s life.
All I can say is that I’m convinced Panda and our neighbour/dog friend were affected by HGE. This is a general condition that can be caused by many things, so it’s not very comforting to identify it as a cause because it doesn’t mean you can protect your dog any better. The only solution to HGE is to catch it as soon as possible, go straight to the vet, aggressively re-hydrate via an IV and pump their system full of antibiotics. Dogs often don’t show that they aren’t feeling well until they are in really bad shape – Panda was eating and otherwise behaving normally until Friday morning, but then she became dehydrated at lightning speed. In smaller dogs it can happen even more quickly.
If you ever see blood, or suspect dehydration, don’t wait – if it’s the middle of the night, go to an emergency animal hospital. But please, please – do not wait. Panda sends her best. xo