how my babies are doing, and also equally dying to see some pictures of them NOT peeing or pooping. There is nothing much to report, but here you are.
Georgia is doing OK. I had a big scare when I took her to the vet for checkup in May when the vet diagnosed her as having level 2 heart murmur. Since she did not have it last fall, we were alarmed when 2 months later even I could hear the swishing noise by just putting my ear on her side. After echocardiogram and EKG, it was determined that the murmur is at the beginning stage brought on by old age, and even though by sound it has become level 3 murmur, the sound is loud because the dent on her heart valve was small compared to the high velocity of the blood circulation. The cardiologist’s suggestion is to do nothing.
Summer in New York doesn’t agree with Brooklyn very well because of the moisture on the ground even when it hasn’t rained. She’s been pooping only once every 3 or 4 days out of absolute necessity. She was absolutely miserable during June when we had maybe 3 or 4 days without rain. She was also diagnosed with heart murmur during her checkup, but the vet could only hear very slight noises. I had not known old age can bring on heart murmur until then.
Brandy’s been doing fine, considering… I hate to acknowledge the fact but I have to admit the side effect of megaesophagus is getting worse slowly over the years. And there is nothing I can do about it. Other than that, she was given a clean bill of health during her checkup.
Foster has not bitten himself and punctured himself this summer! Yet. *knocks on wood* Not only that, I haven’t had to rush him to an emergency vet. *knocks on wood harder* He was also given a clean bill of health.
Now please leave some love for my babies!
I dropped off Georgia at the vet this morning for echocardiogram. She was especially freaked out from the time we came out of the house, so I was feeling quite uneasy. It’s not like she would be put under or anything, so I don’t know what I was uneasy about except that I’m always uneasy when I have to drop off somebody at the vet. Especially Georgia, who would do anything to escape the present situation by running away. Anyway, I was very uneasy.
Around two o’clock, the vet called saying echo result is good meaning it’s not that bad but the technician seemed to see some irregular beats which the vet couldn’t detect with the stethoscope. The reason the murmur sounds level three is that the defect on the heart valve is very small and the velocity of the flow is great compared to that defect, it makes more swishing sound. But because of the concern for the irregular beats, EKG was done and I had to wait another 4 hours for the cardiologist to go over it.
The prognosis, when the vet called me again, is that it’s the very beginning stage of heart murmur brought on by old age, and we should do nothing at present. I was like, NOTHING??? For a while, I couldn’t decide if I should be glad because her murmur isn’t that bad as we thought, or upset because there is nothing that CAN be done. I know, I should be jumping up and down or something. But for the first hour or so, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I wonder if I’m that negative about everything…
Anyway, thank you for the good wishes. We decided that the reason for her lack of activity these days must be from her arthritis instead of her heart, so when I picked her up, I also picked up anti-inflammatory. Now she’s on 4 different meds with 3 different supplements. I need to make an appointment to extract the cracked tooth. It just never seems to end, but hooray all the same.
Today I took Georgia to the vet for recheck of her heart murmur. The vet found out Georgia developed a level two heart murmur during her annual checkup two months ago. Since Georgia did not have it at all six months ago, the vet was alarmed that the murmur had progressed to level two in such a short time. I was supposed to bring her back after three months, but after observing Georgia closely for a couple of months, I thought I should take her in a month earlier.
It turned out that it has progressed to level three. So she has to go back on Monday for an echocardiogram. I also wanted her cracked tooth pulled out at the same time, but the vet told me that Georgia should not be put under anesthesia until we know the result of the echocardiogram.
Brooklyn was also found to have developed a murmur during her checkup a month ago. Hers, however, is a faint level one, which the vet attributes to her age, and so her case is a wait-and-see kind.
I was hoping for a long vacation from vet visits… oh well.
Brandy just farted. The cutest thing. She farts, looks towards her hiney and cocks her head to one side questioningly. Every single time. Which means if she farts again while she’s giving her butt an interrogating head cock, she cocks her head to the other side. And of course in the case of the multiple farts, it gets pretty hilarious. After all this time, she hasn’t quite figured it out.
Brooklyn, of course, doesn’t fart in my company because it’s totally beneath her.
Foster, who one would guess as the funniest farter, is disappointingly nonchalant when he farts. If he happens to be standing up, he takes a couple of quick steps forward and turns his head to look at his butt and then throws a sidelong glance towards me as if to see if I’ve noticed it. But if he happens to be lying down, he doesn’t even move his head, but only his eyes move for a quick glance at me for a second.
The most comical is Georgia, who usually tries to blame it on the one situated closest to her butt, who somehow is always me. If she farts sitting or lying down, she jumps up as if scared, with an OMG! WTF! kinda look, turns around and sniffs all around me, then suddenly retreats and walks away and sits down a few feet away from the offending spot, and stares at me for a long time with a disgusted accusatory look on her face.
Aren’t they so exactly like people or what?
Long awaited snow, the right kind –the sticking kind– came Friday. I was ecstatic at the prospect of 4 to 6 inches of snow because my poor deprived dogs hadn’t had decent snow for some time. It snowed all day starting around 10am. Then it changed to sleet and rain by the time I headed home. I was not happy. This was what happened the last time, the time before AND the time before – snow followed by rain. What good is snow when you have to freeze your fat ass while cleaning your car and waste twice as long a time in driving home if at the end all you got is just slush and mud?
Fortunately, when I finally reached home, I found that it hadn’t rained too much in this area. We had a few inches of snow and it wasn’t slushy at all, and the rain turned to snow again. Dogs loved it. They ran around with white snow around the muzzle. I threw snowballs for them. They chased them and got confused when the snowballs landed and disappeared. They pounced on a “snowball” and looked around and pounced on a phantom snowball again and searched for it with their nosed buried in the snow and sometimes dug the snow to see if the ball hid itself. And my laughter rang out quite out of tune with the snow shoveling noise in the otherwise quiet neighborhood.
It was pure joy and happiness I’ve had in a long time.
Last night, I talked on the phone with a dog behaviorist specializing in dog aggression for about an hour and a half. I described to her each of my dogs’ disposition, the living arrangement that had worked for more than 3 years until Georgia’s elbow dysplasia diagnosis, the change in living arrangement, and the behavior changes leading up to the fight between Brooklyn and Brandy and Brandy’s attack on Georgia. I found her to be very nice and personable.
The flood gate on my tear ducts opened when she asked “Who’s your favorite?” because I thought she was asking this question to see who I’d end up choosing to give up in case keeping all four of them is not doable. Oh no, I don’t have a favorite. I once tried to pick my favorite – I tried to reason if I had to choose just one in an emergency, who would I choose? I don’t know. I have no idea. They are my kids. How can you choose?
My goal now is to have a functional 2-way separation just as before, whichever combination that might be. Right now I’m doing 3-way without Foster. When he comes back after Georgia’s stitches come out, my plan is to pair him up with Georgia so that I don’t need to do 4-way separation. For me to be able to successfully accomplish this, I want her professional advice, and hopefully, she and I can figure out how to achieve 2-way separation again.
I would have to figure out a way to pay her fee first because she cannot take credit card. Wish me luck.
Georgia saw Dr. L on Friday when the drains came out. Dr. L said her leg looks surprisingly good. But Georgia managed to break the E-collar she was wearing for the second time last night, and took most of the stitches out. I quickly went out and bought some self-sticking bandages and wrapped it up, but she keeps scratching it with her hind leg so that the bandage can’t stay in place. So far the incision hasn’t burst, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed.
Brooklyn’s wounds look to be all healed just like all of my wounds, which are just a little sensitive. She, so far, seems content most of the time and cries and howls whenever she thinks I’ve been away from her too long or if she hears me taking another dog outside. I’ve been sleeping with her in the bedroom (on the bed Foster marked all over) ever since her fight with Brandy and she seems to be happier to be in the bedroom than the livingroom.
I took Brandy to the vet yesterday to see if anything is wrong with her healthwise which is making her more aggressive. Other than her known health problems, that is. Dr. L found out that Brandy has two cracked teeth. When I say “cracked”, it doesn’t mean the teeth broke where we can see them. The teeth seem to have been pushed outward cracking them above the gum line and then put back to their original place. She said it’s already healing so there is nothing to be done. From the outside, the area near Brandy’s nose where the black nose ends on the right side looks slightly more bulbous than the other side. She couldn’t tell how old the wound is, it’s either from the fight with Brooklyn or when she jumped on Georgia. Dr. L also took three vials of Brandy’s blood to be tested for any diseases that make a dog cranky including 11 tick-borne diseases and thyroid, on top of a full chem panel.
This afternoon when I took Brandy outside, she had a sudden sneezing fit, after which I noticed some blood around her muzzle. Upon inspection, I could see there was blood in her left nostril. I will talk to Dr. L tomorrow.
Foster has been staying with Sam and Houston since the day after I picked up Georgia from the vet. I can’t trust Brandy with any other dog right now and with Georgia’s leg all stitched up and with her E-collar bumping into everything, I didn’t want Foster to play with Georgia either. So I had to separate them all, and Sam volunteered to look after Foster. According to Sam, Foster must miss home since he has never seen Foster so subdued. Poor guy…
Grizzley has been doing well. He’s still on prednisone and eating well and as feisty as ever.
I am exhausted and stressed and broke. And that’s all I have to say about myself.
Serious Stuff. Seriously
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.NaNoWriMo
Yeah, I'm gonna try this time. I must be crazy... not surprisingly.
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