The saga of Cliffie continues. It’s a dense post- reader be warned- grab some popcorn and soda, you’ll be here awhile! 
P
Monday bright and early, we drove to C-Bone’s orthopedic specialist for a complete exam and possibly a Depo para-spinal shot. It was a rough drive- Cliff’s always been a bit excitable in the car, and in later years that excitability has blown to the anxiety side of the spectrum. He stood the whole 40 minute trip (which, given his back issues, must have been excruciating) and fell several times when I slowly crept around turns. I had to pull over in traffic twice to open the back hatch and help him back on his feet, because he couldn’t get up. It was just so sad to see him that way (I was happy, though, to have made the trip without him pooping in the back for once! But wait- as soon as we went into the vet’s exam room, he lost control, tail went up and out it shot. I had to hold him up so he wouldn’t fall when pushing- not exactly the highlight of our day).
The discussion with Dr. B rather depressing. I’ll try to paraphrase the conversation, given I’m not great on the medical lingo and, 3 days later, I’ve already forgotten some of it because I’m a space cadet,– but, what it boils down to, is that Clifford’s spinal disease is getting much worse. Apparently the cord is inflamed at some point in his lower back, compressing nerves, pressing against the bone, causing sciatica and all sorts of gimpiness, pain, and fragility. It was bad this spring, but further compression (swelling?) has really amped it up. During the exam, Dr. B lightly pressed that area of the spine and Clifford dropped like a sack of potatoes (thankfully he warned me, or I may have had a panic attack!). It was just really sad.
As at our last consultation, we discussed the three most popular avenues of treatment for spinal disease:
- Spinal surgery, which I’ve always been against given Cliff’s age and bad reaction to anesthesia at his last dental– but shit, I’m so desperate to see him well again I’ve been considering taking the chance. Dr. B told me, though, that it’s really too late at this point… the nerves have been compressed so long, they probably won’t bounce back, even with surgery. That kind of bites.
- A Depo shot, which is some sort of cortisone injection in his back? Sometimes it gives relief, sometimes it doesn’t. Maybe it works for a few weeks, maybe months, maybe a day. Kind of a wild card. Doctor B said there’s also something else I need to consider- that the medicine could very well upset Cliff’s sensitive stomach, blow into Colitis, and kill him. Once you inject that medicine in, you can’t take it out- so it’s a gamble that might pay or might have deadly consequences.
- Then there’s the last option. Do nothing. In my mind, that means losing Clifford before Christmas- because I’m not going to string him along. When Cliff passes away, I want him to die with dignity- not crapping himself, not falling on the ground every few hours, not able to heave himself up from the dog bed. And the way he was this weekend- that time isn’t far off. Ugh.
We also talked about another issue- Jack. Despite all the glowing praise I gave him a few posts ago (ha) – he’s really one of those dogs that takes advantage of weakness. I’m not sure if this is related to his high prey-drive or something separate, but man- he seems totally willing to act the part of Grim Reaper if need be. I was telling a few coworkers and greyhound friends about how, when Clifford fell in the dog door Friday and couldn’t get up, how Jack swooped in- and generally got two types of responses. First, there was the, “Oh Jack is so playful and thought Cliff was playing!” and the other is, “Jack was concerned his ‘brother’ fell and wanted to help!” Ehhhh…. I don’t think so. When I explained that Jack really wanted to attack Cliff when poor Cliff couldn’t get up and fight back, I got a few horrified looks, a few, “Oh he really isn’t good with other dogs, is he?!?!” and a few, um… I guess, “Oh you poor person, how do you live with a dog like that?” expressions. Even some of my dog friends were appalled. To be honest, I’ve never had a dog like Jack that is so… primitive(?)? Even Nelson, my Alaskan Malamute, wasn’t that “wolfy” and spitzes are generally considered one of the more primitive types of domesticated dogs. But I do have to explain- Jack isn’t a BAD dog. He loves other dogs! He loves to play! He is super friendly and loving! But… BUT. He’s a dog-dog, for lack of a better term? For some reason… like I said- maybe because he is high prey? Genetic? His lineage? Something??- he just acts a bit more primitive and …uncivilized… than many other dogs when it comes to basic behavior. From what I understand, a wolf pack will kill sick or mamed pack members to keep their unit strong and viable- so maybe it hearkens back to that? Let’s just hope I don’t slip in the bathtub and break my leg anytime soon, LOL–!!!!
Anyway, I discussed my concerns about Jack with Dr. B. It was strongly recommended that the boys be kept separate, for Cliff’s safety, when I’m not supervising. Sad to say, this didn’t fly with Cliff. At all. More on that later.
I also asked Dr. B what would happen if Clifford went into a split with his back legs, and couldn’t get up, when I was at work. The scenario wasn’t good. The doctor explained that Cliff would probably stress himself trying to get up, panic, go into Malignant hyperthermia, and because of his upper airway issues- would suffocate himself to death.The other scenario, of course, he falls- can’t get up- Jack kills him.
Not exactly a good way to go.
It wasn’t a hard decision. I decided to give Cliff the injections of Depo around his spine, in hopes that it would help (and that it wouldn’t blow into Colitis and kill him- but it’s a risk I’m willing to take). The vet technician took Cliff in back, where he was shaved and injected. They told me he was very stoic, and didn’t cry once!!
Fast forward beyond the excruciating car ride home (Cliff standing the whole way, drooling on my shoulder)… and to The New Normal. The dog door has been deemed too dangerous for Cliff to use, so it has been sealed- much to my dismay (the boys don’t seem as upset about it, thankfully! But me- God, it’s totally cramped my style!!). The boys are now separated during the day- Cliff in the carpeted bedroom where he has better traction to get up, in case he falls- and Jack is “next door” in art studio and living room. Unfortunately, as I mentioned before, Cliff HATES this setup and has been angrily piddling all over the carpet while I’m gone. Because the dog door has been nixed, I have quit my lunchtime workout class (I had gotten into SUCH a good workout rhythm- kickboxing class two lunches a week, running the other 3)- and have to drive home to check the boys and let them out to potty early afternoon. Oh Dog Door, how I miss you!!! And working out during lunch… I never thought I’d say this (ever, ever, ever)- but I MISS MY WORKOUTS. I miss the energy burn afterwards the beautiful endorphins that kicked in after sweating buckets… that really good, good feeling of pushing myself to do something I didn’t think I could. I now need to get up extra early to run in the dark, or run after work in the dark (which is a PITA since I have no headlamp, no reflective clothing, and would rather get it done during lunch- plus crime in the area seems to be up and joggers seem to be getting mugged a lot recently, wtf?). I have to race home during lunch every day (and gas is up to $3.09/gallon, seriously???), let the dogs out, wolf my lunch down at record speed and then race back to the office; then race home after work to spend a half hour crouching on the carpet scrubbing up urine- and smell that horrid cleaner is all over the house… AAAAAAAH.
It’s fine. We’ll get into a new rhythm of life, eventually. It’s not a big deal, it’s just a pain in the ass right now. Jack is the only one of us as happy as a clam. Clifford is pissed (literally and figuratively) and my stress level is through the roof trying to figure out a routine that makes myself and Clifford comfortable. The good news is that I’ve been taking out my stress on linoleum blocks, and have a couple ready to print- pics to come. 
After another long hour of scrubbing up Clifford’s iniquities last night, I decided to let him stay loose in the house with Jack today. I’ll be home at lunch to check. Hey Cliff- you slip on the hardwood floor and he comes at you like a monkey on a hambone? YOU ASKED FOR IT. *I* had this great plan to keep you safe. A nice secluded bedroom- you have the whole queen bed to yourself, the cushy dog bed too, and guess what? Pain the ass little brother only gets the smelly loveseat. But noooo… that wasn’t good enough for you. You decide to defile my carpet to express your displeasure. You know, you had me WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER. I mean, you could have played the sympathy card BIG TIME and you ruined it by acting like a whiny douchebag.* ARG, you can be such a card sometimes-!
On a happy note: The Depo shots seem to be working okay. With a bland diet and 20mg Pepcid every day (as recommended by Dr. B), Cliff’s poops have been good and no bloody diarrhea/colitis (yay). He can get up off the dog bed without help now. And he seems *slightly* less rickety! Next appointment: December 6. Another round of injections and I’m going to ask Dr. B if he’d recommend laser treatment. My friend Trace had acupuncture and laser work done on her greyhound’s spine, and the laser seemed to be really helpful (apparently the acupuncture, not so much). We’ll see.
Jen
*Hmmm, it just occurs to me- I suppose I should ask the doctor if excessive urination is a side effect of the injection before calling Cliff a douchebag. Maybe I am the douchebag. LOL.
