[Dailydrool] On Becoming Your Own First Initial

[Elizabeth via Dailydrool]

This is something young Charlie Basset did on Saturday. He turned himself into the letter “C." A backwards “C," but since it was his first time to attempt such a feat, I’m cutting him some slack on that.

He was just fine on Friday night, playing keep-away and chase with me and a variety of toys and not-toys he found at my mother’s, where we’d been visiting for a week. He was also just fine on Saturday morning when I took him out for a morning walk at 9:30. 

He went to sleep in his nest bed after the walk and wouldn’t get up to go to his crate when it was time for my mother and I to go to the dining hall for lunch. Thinking he was just being recalcitrant, which he often is when it comes to leaving a bed to go to a crate, I picked him up and deposited him in his crate. When we returned an hour later, Charlie emerged from his crate in the shape of a “C,” his head down, and walking in loose circles because that’s what you do when your body is curved to one side. 

Of course, my first thought was a cervical injury. He wasn’t crying or shivering, but he wasn’t happy or comfortable either. I took him to an ER, where a diagnosis proved illusive. The ER vet quickly ruled out a disk problem and then decided he hadn’t had a stroke or developed vestibulitis. His pupils and retinas look and track normally, and his blood pressure is an admirable 135. According to his extensive blood work ($465 worth—eep!), he’s the picture of perfect health. 

So that leaves us with a possible brain tumor or lesion (oh please god no), a brain infection or inflammation, neoplasia, or a “vascular event.” None of these diagnoses are appealing. The only way to get a neurological diagnosis is to have an MRI for about $2,000. Michigan has just three MRIs in the state for animals, and none of them are in the Detroit metropolitan area where we were. Ken and I have decided to take a wait-and-see approach for a while before taking this route.

Because Charlie yarked loudly a couple of times while the vet was taking a deep look inside his left ear, she said it’s possible he has an infection in the part of the ear canal that is beyond that 90-degree bend and beyond her handheld otoscope’s view. When I asked about using an endoscope to look at the entire canal, she said Charlie would have to be anesthetized for that and she was reluctant to do that without knowing what’s going on with him. 

The vet tried to get a sample from his ear to smear on a slide to determine if he has a bacterial or a yeast infection but said they got nothing. So maybe it’s a major otic nerve that was causing him to be his own first initial and yark when the depths of his ears are examined?

Charlie left the ER three hours later looking more like the letter “I” and with some meds—Baytril once a day for this supposed ear infection and Gabapentin every 8 hours in case he’s experiencing pain. We were both exhausted and yet still had a social obligation ahead of us—dinner at my sister’s. She’s one of Charlie’s favorite people, and she let him crash on her sofa.

Charlie put himself to bed as soon as we got back to my mother’s at 9:00, and since he has a 14-hour bladder, I didn’t ask him to go outside one last time before I went to bed at midnight. Anyway, he’d peed quite a bit after getting out of the car. This morning, when packing up my bedding and air mattress, I discovered he had quietly emptied that legendary bladder at some point during the night, most likely in his sleep because surely he would have woken me up to let me know he needed to go out. 

Incontinence is something I’m supposed to watch for as a sign of a deteriorating condition. But Gabapentin is a nerve block, and Charlie was exhausted. Surely that must have been it? He stayed dry during our five-hour car drive back home today and hasn’t had any further accidents. But I’ve pulled out our late Elsinore’s bed pads to put under him tonight, just in case. First thing on tomorrow’s to-do list is to call his regular vet and try to get a same-day appointment.

I’ve turned into a lurker on the Drool for the last couple of years, and this past month I haven’t been even that because I’ve been traveling. But here I am, first night back home, writing about the events of this weekend because I'm hoping to draw on the collective wisdom and experience of Droolers. Perhaps there are some questions I need to ask Charlie’s regular vet when I see her?

In the meantime, I’m going to hope Charlie continues to assume the shape of the letter “I” and not attempt to turn into my first initial next. 

Elizabeth
linktolindsey at gmail.com