Danger in the Woods
He's too sexy for his collar, too sexy for his collar, can't you see him disco dancing? I feel the song, I'm Too Sexy, would be Biggy-B's anthem if he had one.
Saturday, I took The Big-B, my big red dog crush, to the groomer. Although he is a short-haired pitbull-mastiff mix, he deserves a spa day every so often to get his nails trimmed, a good bath, and his anal glands expressed. He had had issues with the latter and was given antibiotics to combat a nasty infection when we brought him home from the pound. Although he has stayed infection-free, the poor boy has to have his glands expressed more than the average dog. Poor Miss Julie, who has the unsavory job of expressing said glands, informed me that his glands had quite literally exploded because they were so full. I believe this topic to be a source of shame and humiliation for my big, red, B-boy, so we will end our discussion here. My handsome canine companion has informed me that nothing is sacred and all topics are fodder for The Blog; he's just not okay with this behavior of mine.
Sunday, I noticed my boy seemed a bit ouchy and off. He didn't really seem sick; he just didn't seem like his happy; "I'm too big to be so bouncy" self. Monday, I noticed he did not eat. This morning, he permitted Chubs, our senior pitbull, to have his morning cookie. This was when I knew something was truly amiss. At 7:30, I called our veterinarian and asked if having overly full anal glands expressed would make my boy not feel well? With his history of infection, they considerately scheduled an appointment for the afternoon.
My canine love bug adores going for car rides. I drive a Buick Enclave with a large storage area in the rear. Although I begin our adventure with him in the rear storage area, he ultimately ends up in the passenger seat beside me. I don't know why I don't just seat him upfront; one would think I would learn. Not only does he make his way to the front seat, but he also knows how to put the window down. I put the window up; he stamps his paw until the window goes down. At first, I thought this had to be a fluke. However, he is too quick and the behavior too repetitive to be a mistake. He is a brilliant boy; I admire smart boys. So we ride into town with the window down in its entirety, his lips and hears blowing in the wind. Once we enter the neighborhoods, we have an understanding; the window goes up, he faces the front, and he is permitted to bark and growl at oncoming traffic, pedestrians, cyclists, and other dogs. However, the window must remain up, and he must stay in his own seat. It is a happy compromise, and I don't have 110 lbs. of curiosity in my lap.
Our veterinarian is still following quarantine protocol, so I stay in my car; a vet tech comes out to retrieve the Biggy-B, I give my card information over the phone, and they treat my boy. We had blood work done, and it turns out his illness had nothing to do with the glands of shame. It is much more alarming than an infected bum. The Big-B, my canine Romeo, has Lyme's disease. He was suffering a fever, body aches, lethargy, and lack of appetite. I am so relieved I called our vet. She believes we caught it early since he still has a fever. The good doctor prescribed antibiotics and pain medication. The Big-B's doctor told me I would see a noticeable difference in him tonight. As I sit writing to you in the peace and quiet of the garage office, I can hear him barking and playing with the chickens, The Bean, and The Bibbed Wonder. He is indeed feeling more like himself...thank goodness.
I adore this dog if you can't tell. He is my dog, and I am his person; it's a mutually loving relationship. He came to us when I really needed some good in my life. Although we rescued him from the pound, the reality is, he saved me. I think he could sense my pain and my need. We have been besties ever since. I have told you before; he has all the qualities I admire in a man...he's very intelligent, gentle, kind, and has a sense of humor, he's just naughty enough to make things fun, and he's very, very handsome. If something were to happen to him, I would be devastated. However, the good news is Lyme's is treatable, we caught it early, and he is feeling more like himself.
The lesson from this is that although both the boys, Chubs and Buster, are given monthly flea and tick medication, disease-carrying ticks can still bite them and make them sick. I assumed we were safe from Lyme's since they are treated. Also, I followed my instinct and called the vet because I felt something was amiss with Biggy-B's behavior. I am grateful the vet's office was able to get us in today. Crisis averted...insert relieved sigh.
As always, dear reader, stay safe, stay smart, follow your instincts and don't assume, and of course, wash your hands.