To Be Blunt

Not all stories have happy endings.  I’m having troubles moving past this beginning, but there is more to say. Years ago, when I realized how severe Schmoozer’s epilepsy was and how poorly he tolerated his medications, I tried to make peace with fighting a battle we couldn’t win. I tried to give him the best possible life he could have. It was hard 4.5 year journey and I don’t regret it. Now,  I’m afraid I’m starting a similar journey.

I received Cora’s early medical records a few days after adopting her and there was this sentence that I couldn’t ignore “multiple congenital defects”.  I mentally filed that phrase away.  It did no good to worry about it, so I figured I would deal with it  if and when it mattered. A few weeks ago, it began to matter.  Her walking wasn’t improving  much and there were so many things she struggled with. When stressed, her ability to cope with anything decreased dramatically. She can become a snarling, snapping dog, unable to move.

When I was trying to decide what my next step would be, I debated between going to a neurologist or a physical therapist. Neurology is hard to fix (and expensive), so I took her to a canine rehabilitation specialist with a mix of dread and hope. He said he’d never seen a dog quite like Cora and asked if he could observe her for a few hours and consult with the orthopedic veterinarian. I didn’t like leaving there, but I said yes. When they called me to pick her up, they said the vet wanted to talk to me and I knew.

He spent a lot of time saying “To be blunt…” and then telling me just how impaired and hopeless she is. He told me I had to make my own decisions but mentioned euthanasia multiple times. I understand that he saw her at her worst and wanted to prepare me for the worst. Cora and I went home and she was defensive and unhappy that night.  I was too. The visit was traumatic for both of us.

By the next day she had recovered. She spent time playing in the yard and insisted on taking a bath with me. She loved it. To be blunt, I think the vet was a bit of an ass. Telling me she had severe mental deficits was the responsible thing to do, but after that he was out of his area of expertise. He made a judgement on her quality of life, without knowing her. I am not giving up on my determined Cora.

I’ve done my research and it scares me. Bind, 3-legged and brain damaged is a lot for her and I to deal with. I suspect she has hydrocephalus and fear her time will be very short. I know that’s grim, but I need to think in those terms. I need to be ready to let her go, when it’s time. I can, and will, still hope though. Wouldn’t it be great if 5 years from now Cora and I paid a visit to that vet? There is treatment for hydrocephalus. It’s not a cure, but it can help. Next week, I see my regular veterinarian, and we will explore the possibilities. I’m going to nurture Cora as if she doesn’t have a lot of time left, but her life is full of potential. It’s a hard balance, but I have done it before.  I will give her every opportunity for growth possible and she will give me the gift of sharing time with her strong spirit.