Our Chubby Buddy

Chubs looking miserable at the vet's office

We have had quite the time of it with our dogs recently. Chubby, our senior pit bull, has begun to show his age in the last few months. His little snout is white. His sad little Chubby eyes have cataracts. His hearing, which has always been selective, is much worse. He is slowing down. He used to be a killing machine. Opossums, raccoons, groundhogs, and mice did not stand a chance against our great protector. The trophies he brings to the yard are fewer and farther between. Now, if he has a successful hunt, he lays on the couch for days, barely moving and is a bit stoved up.

The weekend of our farm event, he took a tumble off the ranger. He loves Ranger rides. The Bean took him with her to complete her various tasks. Chubby is Jordan's ride-or-die, especially if it means a Ranger ride. When he went to jump off the seat, he lost his footing and fell. He bounced up, shook it off, and appeared to be fine. However, as the week wore on, he seemed sore. After the event, he killed a rather large raccoon that was snooping around the chicken coop. He favored his neck but seemed to be okay until this past Sunday. If you had talked to me on Sunday, I would have told you I thought we were going to lose our grumpy old man.

Chubby couldn't walk, he was shaking, and he cried when he moved. I gave him aspirin because that is all we had on hand that is safe for dogs. We carried him to wherever he wanted to go, put his food and water beside his bed, and waited. First thing Monday morning, I called the vet. They could not get us in until Wednesday morning. They advised me to continue giving him aspirin as needed and keep him still. We made him as comfortable as possible. Fortunately, the aspirin seemed to take the edge off of his pain. Wednesday morning, The Bibbed Wonder and I took him to the vet's office. Eric carried him in and kept him on his lap. If I'm being transparent, I think our grumpy old man enjoys the attention and being treated like a king. Chubby has always been very vocal and dramatic, especially when at the vet's office.

When they take him to the back to do bloodwork, we (and everyone else in the office) can hear him scream like they are murdering him. The same dramatic screams happen when he sees the thermometer. He knows what is coming, and he protests loudly. I always have the worst-behaved dogs at the vet's office. Everyone else sits quietly with their family; my guys act like goons who never leave the farm. It's like having an ill-behaved child with four feet and big teeth. Although now old and in pain, Chubs did not disappoint with the drama. This time, they kept him in the room with us. When they did the blood draw, he had to be muzzled. Not with one muzzle but two...sigh. The brave lab techs and Eric put a large cloth muzzle on him so they could fit it around his gaping, biting mouth. Once he was contained with the cloth muzzle, they snuck the leather muzzle on over it. It was all very chaotic and drama-filled. Chubby then proceeded to growl, whine, and scream. When they did the blood draw, one would have thought he was being stabbed repeatedly with a large knife. However, that was nothing. When he saw the thermometer and the tube of lube, he really turned up the dramatics. It took three people to hold him just to get his temperature. He's an embarrassment.

Once the muzzle was off and he was given a treat with spray cheese on top, he was his happy little self again. I sat on the floor with him, waiting for the results of his bloodwork. The vet soon returned. She did not have good news. Chubs tested positive for anaplasmosis, a tick-borne disease. The way the vet explained it, it is sneakier and more aggressive than Lyme disease and is harder on the dog. Chub's sore neck, although it could be partially due to a mild injury, is more likely caused by anaplasmosis. Dr. Beth prescribed pain pills, antibiotics, and steroids. Unfortunately, the steroids interact with aspirin, and I have to wait two days for his system to clear the aspirin before we can begin the steroids. She gave him pain medication to see him through until the steroids could be started. We have to go back in a couple of weeks for bloodwork and a check-up. At that point, we are going to discuss long-term pain medication and anti-inflammatories. At this point, Chubby is the equivalent of a 100-year-old man. I am not worried about kidney failure or medication being hard on his liver; I want him to have good life quality over longevity.

As I sit writing to you, my grumpy old man is curled up on the couch with my favorite quilt, his head on a pillow, Pet TV turned on, and snoring louder than a bear. He's enjoying his convalescence. Buster does not think it's right or fair that Chubby has taken over the couch. He has started acting out. Last night, he got into the garbage. Then he stood and barked at Chubby like get out of my spot, you big faker! I have been trying to spend equal amounts of time on the couch with Chubs and on the floor with Bus. However, Buster is not so easily appeased. He has his routine, and he does not like any disruptions. I'm sure he will survive and adjust.

On this lovely October day, stay safe, be smart, care for your pets like you would a human family member (maybe better), and keep washing your hands.