Wounded Dog Ears, Part the Second

But first, Zoe wishes to show off her new t-shirt,  which DH put on her this morning on an impulse. She loves it; in her mind, it probably means she’s going to wake up in human form (or at least with opposable thumbs) any day now.

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Alas, the other pooch is not so perky; she wouldn’t look at me while I held the camera for this shot, and only turned toward me when I put it down again.

(Read on only if you’re actually interested in gory details about bleeding ear tips)

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Dog Distress

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“What was that?” I mumbled blearily, trying to identify the very wet plopping sound that dragged me out of a solid sleep.

“I think it was one of the dogs throwing up,” DH murmured, sitting up slightly and turning on his bedside lamp. I got out of bed. Sure enough, Lyra (she of the wounded ear), had gotten sick near the back door. She still stood there, not moving or looking up at me as I knelt to examine both her and the mess. She wasn’t making the face – that grimace dogs get that means they’re about to let go again – but she was very tense. When I opened the door to let her out, in case she needed to be sick again, she stood on the patio and didn’t move. I cleaned up the mess as best I could, keeping an eye on her, and after several minutes decided to take her in to the 24 hour vet.

When we got there, before going in I watched her carefully for signs of feeling better (she’s been known to act distressed, only to get excited and miraculously be just fine when she gets attention from the vet staff). Not this time, though. She made an effort to be friendly to the admitting attendant, but it was clearly an effort, and a subdued one at best. After the vet looked at her, she groaned, tried to get comfy on the floor, and commenced shuddering again, in obvious pain.

The good news is, judging by this morning’s x-rays, she doesn’t have a perforation, bloat, or pancreatitis, all urgent conditions that would probably require surgery. The bad news is, the nature of the problem is unclear for now. DH and I decided to keep her there for observation, and she’ll have another x-ray around noon, this time by the actual radiologist (who might see things the regular vet this morning may have missed), to see if anything has changed. It could be nothing – a mysterious bought of abdominal pain that will resolve itself later today, and I’m hoping and praying that’s the case – or it could be some type of intestinal obstruction (perhaps rawhide related, which wouldn’t show on an x-ray, though the effects would; no more rawhide chews, I guess. Nylabones are out, too – she used to break off huge chunks of those and eat them, which could potentially be just as dangerous. I suppose the starch bones are the only option? Any ideas on that?). It could be any number of things, unfortunately. All I know for certain is she went to bed fine, and she woke up hurting.

The most surprising thing about this morning, though, is how calm I am. The last time she seemed distressed (last summer, which turned out to be some sort of 24 hr dog stomach flu), my mind jumped to the worst conclusions and I was a wreck (I know, she’s just a dog, but she’s our dog, and the first one I’ve ever really raised and cared for; I love her almost as much as I would a child). This time, though, I’m not so worried. Concerned, of course, but not in a panic, not imagining worst-case scenarios, etc. Just concerned, calm, and glad I decided to take her in so that someone who knows more than I do can help her if she needs it.

Still, though, if you have a little room in your prayers today for a sick pooch, they’d be much appreciated.

-o.o-

*UPDATE*

Well, I heard back from the vet a little while ago. The second x-ray around noon found nothing, and she seemed to be feeling better, but they were still concerned so I authorized an ultrasound. They found something surprising (not what you want to hear when getting ultrasound results) – there are strange nodules on her liver, and there’s also some fluid in her abdomen. They’re going to test the fluid to see what it is, and tomorrow after the results are back we’ll go from there.

Honestly, right now I can’t comprehend how my parents held it together when we were sick as kids. My brother’s early childhood was spent as much in the hospital as at home, and I had a couple of serious problems as well. My mom was like a rock – calm and soothing, she always knew what to do; I rarely saw her panic. Now I realize she must have been going crazy with worry half the time. I was doing good today until I heard “nodules” and “liver,” along with “possible abscess.”

I know she’ll probably (ultimately) be all right, but it’s hard not to worry when there’s nothing you personally can do to make it better.

Caring for Wounded Dog Ears

(Obligatory disclaimer – I’m not a vet, nor am I a medical professional in any way, shape or form. Seek the advice of a real professional before trying this on your dog. Thank you!)

I’ve searched for good advice on this, but haven’t been very successful, so I thought I’d post what works for my dog in the hopes that someone else will find it useful too.

I have two vizslas, but only this one tends to have ear problems. It starts with the itching – she gets a lot of waxy buildup along with allergies, especially at this time of year – which also leads to a lot of high-speed head shaking. When I clean the ears, of course, more vigorous shaking inevitably follows. The sound is rather like a small string of fireworks going off. The speed at the tips of her big dumbo ears is probably close to breaking the sound barrier, much like the tip of a properly-snapped whip. Combined with the fact that she often doesn’t care what her ears hit while she flaps her head (table edges, door jambs, box corners, etc.), it is inevitable that she will occasionaly cut the tips of her ears.