[Dailydrool] Now it's young Charlie's turn

[Elizabeth Lindsey]

Now we have not only a hound with dodgy waterworks (our Elsinore) but also one with a dicky back (young Charlie). 

Late this afternoon I was out in the backyard with the dogs. Charlie thought I was going to go straight ahead and so dashed out in front of me. But instead I turned to go to the side gate. He raced to catch up with me, making a sharp turn and stumbling, or at least that’s what it looked like he did. I don’t know whether he torqued his spine on the turn or on his way down when he stumbled and fell. But either way, he yelped with pain in a way I’d never heard before and couldn’t get back up on his back feet again. 

I kept him quiet for a few minutes to let him collect himself and then tried getting him up on his feet again. He couldn’t support his hind legs and failed the foot-flip test I tried, letting his weight rest on the top of each hind foot instead of immediately correcting it. 

Uh-oh.

So I called the veterinary ER and told them to expect us within the half hour.

The ER vet has decided young Charlie has a mild herniated disk about halfway down his spine, between his thorax and lumbar. After examining him, she brought him back to me on a leash. He was walking. Not well, but well enough to indicate he could feel his feet because he was placing them on the floor pads down

We’re looking at strict crate rest, a neurologically oriented painkiller, and the dreaded Tramadol for the next two weeks. It didn’t take Charlie long to decide he doesn’t like Tramadol. I fear tonight’s first dose was the most easily administered and all subsequent pillings will be ugly. Our fingers are crossed that Charlie’s herniated disk will resolve itself and not progress into a rupture. Back surgeries have gone up quite a bit in cost since our late Jane Basset’s experiences with them. I was quoted a ballpark figure of $3,500 to $4,500. Eeep!  

When Jane had her first ruptured disk surgery, Ken and I blamed ourselves for not having done more to try to prevent them. With Charlie, though, we aren’t beating ourselves up. We feel we've done everything possible—trimmed toenails, regular chiropractor visits, ramps and no stairs, lifting and no jumping onto furniture, low weight. Sometimes these things just happen, and I guess this must be one of those times. My own herniated disk happened when I turned over in bed in the middle of the night. It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt, so I’ve been empathizing with Charlie. 

He’s in his crate now, feeling justifiably sorry for himself. And only this morning he was tossing Ken’s baseball cap in the air and tearing toilet paper tubes apart . . .

I hope he can tolerate the Tramadol without it upsetting his tummy. I really hope he can.

Elizabeth


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