Road Apples by Tim Sanders
Oct. 18, 2010
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Good dogs with bad backs There is something about a family dog that can make otherwise rational adults act like idiots. That is because your dog overlooks the same faults that everybody else finds so annoying. Your dog is always overjoyed to see you when you come home, because unlike everybody else you know, your dog is an excellent judge of character. Our dachshund, Maggie, whom I’ve mentioned before, admires us without reservation. This and other traits have endeared her to us. While Marilyn and I are old enough to be grandparents, we have no grandchildren yet, so Maggie has filled that void. In fact, if we were to have a grandchild that resembled Maggie, we would not complain. Her parents could worry about her looks. Gramps and Granny would just spoil her. And during her traumatic teens we might even chip in for a nose job if her dating life were to suffer. Unfortunately, like many dachshunds, Maggie has back problems. She’s always been a very active dog, but a few weeks ago she woke up shaking, in a great deal of pain. Her hind legs were wobbly, and her rear end tilted to the right when she tried to walk. The vet said she had a ruptured disk, and told us to keep her crated for at least six weeks to give her back time to heal. She also prescribed pain pills and muscle relaxers. Here’s what we’ve done: • For the last three weeks, Maggie’s spent her days in a special “crate,” which is not actually a crate in the wooden orange crate sense, but only a steel cage. The crate sits on a plastic cart which allows us to move her from room to room. She doesn’t like the crate, but she’s accepted it because she trusts us implicitly, and also because we took great pains to explain the medical necessity of the crate to her. The crate is where she eats, and naps, and takes her pills. •Speaking of pills, Maggie takes four pills twice daily (one to prevent seizures, one for pain, a muscle relaxer, and an antacid to offset any ill effects from the other three). She doesn’t like her pills, and even though we use a product called Greenies Pill Pockets® which are “made with real beef” and “make pills a treat to give,” she’s learned to eat the tasty pill pocket while sliding the nasty pill out to the side of her mouth and casually dropping it on the crate bed when she thinks nobody’s looking. I’d volunteered to put the pills into a straw and blow them, one by one, down her throat, but Marilyn said that was moronic. “Maggie might just blow first, and there you’d be, lying on the kitchen floor, all spaced out on doggie muscle relaxers!” So now the routine involves Marilyn praising Maggie profusely for being such a good dog and opening her mouth and taking each and every pill like a little soldier. Then she works for half an hour to pry apart the good little soldier’s jaws, which are tightly clamped together like Vise Grips, and poke a pill, wrapped in a tasty Greenie Pill Pocket®, or concealed in a spoonful of dog food, or disguised in cheese, toward the back of Maggie’s mouth. This usually results in Maggie eating the accompanying treats and spitting each pill out at least once, possibly twelve times. Maggie’s little hindquarters may be malfunctioning, but her front end is fully operational, and she could crack walnuts with her jaws. I believe she enjoys hearing Marilyn say bad words. •After Maggie and Marilyn recover from their test of wills, we both take Maggie outside so that she can perform her toileting duties. I say “we both” because while Marilyn carries her outside, I bring the leash, and also the towel/sling, which goes underneath her to support her back. Maggie’s back, that is. So at various times during the day, you might see Marilyn, leash in one hand, sling in the other, propelling Maggie slowly across the yard while singing that stupid "Boom Boom Time" song, which she swears has a salutary effect on Maggie's bowels, And yes, that will be me creeping along close behind, manning the pooper scooper. Of course we are rational adults; we only look like idiots. •With all the pills she’s taking, Maggie has been a bit constipated lately. The other day Marilyn visited an Internet site which discussed doggie suppositories. I felt that the pills at the front end were bad enough, but an attack from the rear was out of bounds. Marilyn disagreed, and said it was always an option. If installing suppositories were a job requirement, I guess I'd make a lousy grandmother. •Maggie is on a strict diet, sort of. Even with her lack of exercise in the crate, when we took her back to the vet’s this week she’d lost half a pound. That is good, considering just how many extra spoonfuls of enticement we had to use until she finally swallowed her pills. She loves to eat, and I suspect that she uses the pill routine to her advantage. Maggie is improving, and we hope she regains her mobility completely. But even if she does, we’ll still have to watch her carefully, continue to carry her up and down stairs, and keep her on a leash when outside. This is a cautionary tale, and if you have a small dog, particularly a dachshund, remember that they are prone to Intervertebral Disk Disease (IDD). Don’t let your dog jump on or off furniture, or gallop up and down stairs, or gain too much weight. I’ve seen videos of paralyzed dachshunds dragging their hindquarters across the floor like miniature seals, or strapped into little doggie scooters with large wheels on the back. If you're any kind of grandparent at all, it’s not what you’d want for your dog. |