The worst decision we didn't have to make

There is perhaps nothing more frightening (to someone who doesn't have kids) than to be faced with the fact that you might have to put your dog down.  Moe is 14, and while we know that each day he is with us now is luck and blessing, we never want to see him suffer.  But late last night, Moe fell in the kitchen (something that happens from time to time, since he does not have great control or strength in his back legs).  But when I got him up, he couldn't bear weight on his front right leg.


Earlier in the day we took the dogs out to walk on our land out in Macedon...something we've done a million times, and on worse terrain.  Moe was tired, but seemed fine.  But he might had hurt something during the walk, or getting in and out of the car.  Regardless, at 9pm last night, he was literally whailing in pain, and biting at us when we tried to see what was wrong.


Moe NEVER bites.


After all, this is a dog who had six warts frozen off his neck and face while laying in our vet's lap and never flinched, never moved a muscle.  I'm sure cryotherapy hurts, but Moe seems to understand when someone is trying to help.


But not this time.  He bit at both of us...and we knew this could be really, really bad.


We contemplated going to the ED, but a burglar in the neighborhood (who passed through our yard....long story that I really don't want to post here) kind of derailed our train of thought.

crying in Moe's fur before we head to the ER

When we woke this morning, Moe wasn't even moving.  We loaded him in the car (I am still amazed that D can carry a 110 lb flailing dog into my Subaru) and headed to the ED...anticipating the worst in terms of prognosis and the bill that we will receive.


Long story short, our vet was just wonderful, and Moe is okay.  The theoretical diagnosis is a strain to the brachial plexis and pectoral muscles, resulting in a spasm bad enough to render his limb useless.  We decided against doing X-rays because 1) The vet really didn't feel that it was a fracture 2) doing so would require a lot of sedation, which Moe historically has not come out of very well (and may have contributed to the problems he has in his back legs today) and 3) An xray would only show a break, or a tumor...and we already decided that if there is a tumor, that treating it will not do much for his quality of life at his age. We didn't do bloodwork since he already had a full workout a couple months ago and aside from this injury, his meds and health have been stable. 


Our vet told us that if this was a true strain, Moe should be okay in about a week.  But if not, we may have to consider his benign fatty tumor in his right axilla may be impinging his leg...and that we would have to consider what to do next.  But the vet was very understanding...he said he recently had to put down his St Bernard who had surgery for an ortho issue, but was found to also have cancer.  He said looking back, he wouldn't put his dog through all the treatments that tend to not be as successful in larger breeds.


So...while we were relieved that our vet bill was quite small, and that Moe is okay, we had the headaches from hell.  But as I look at Moe snoring soundly (effects of his muscle relaxers, I'm sure), I'm thankful that I got to take him home.  As we were waiting to be seen at the ED, we watched two dog owners, in tears, bring their pets in, and then leave shortly after with their arms empty...no dog to take home.  Watching this was painful (and I even cried as the vet explained their euthanasia procedures, should we ever have to get to that point).  But, I'm cherishing this very moment, listening to my dog snore, and watching my other dog - a chihuahua - watch over him like a protective little brother.

Tired runner bonk, and little dog lost

This blog is really going to be a hodge-podge of stuff...

Last weekend I travelled to Ohio to see my cousin Chelsea receive her nurses pin from Clark State.  This has been a tough journey for Chelsea, I'd imagine.  She and I are not particularly close (a result of age difference and living in different states, not a personality difference), but nursing school's journey gave us a new appreciation for our efforts.  While I don't know any details (nor do I need to), Chelsea found herself to be a young, newly-divorced mother of a 2 year old not that long ago.  I don't think things are all that great between her and RJ's dad, but regardless she stayed the course with school and got it done.  She's lucky to have a big family to help out, too.  I couldn't be more proud of her.

Giant Eagle Market District:  Upper Arlington, Ohio

I had a great visit with my mom and step-father...most of it being spent in Giant Eagle eating whatever I could.  And drinking whatever I could.  Just when I thought Wegman's was the shiznit, Giant Eagle Market District in Upper Arlington, Ohio takes the freakin' cake.  Home-made gelato, a wine sampling station (and extensive wine shop...which already means Ohio trumps NY when it comes to retail laws of wine and liquor any given day), a bakery featuring Guinness-Pretzel brownies, and CREPES!  This place was absolutely insane!  We went on Thursday evening just to parooze, then back the following morning for crepes.  Back the next day for gelato (everything from salted carmel to pink grapefruit) with my cousins and uncle.  All I can say is that this place needs to be seen to be believed!

Photo courtesy - Columbus Running Company

On my final day in C-bus, I ran the Columbus 10k - the oldest race in Columbus.  Granted, I was 2 weeks out from my marathon, and while I feel good overall, I knew this wasn't going to be a phenomenal race as I have done virtually no speedwork training since 2010.  Speedwork was put on the back burner in my Sehgahunda training as it really wasn't going to help me - I needed to work on hills and time on my feet.  Well, when it came to the Columbus 10k, it showed.  I started out okay at a 10 m/m, but it was awfully hot for 9am (70 degrees) with ugly humidity and virtually no breeze.  I faded at about mile 3 and finished with an 11:10 m/m average.  And I was okay with it.  This was simply a "for the t-shirt" race because I was in town.  On the flip side, Pete (my godson's dad) was also in town for a wedding (his brother and sister-in-law live in C-bus) and not only ran this race, but PR'd at around 45 minutes (which doesn't surprise me...he's way fast, and Columbus is way flat).

The ride home was  uneventful...I miss and love Columbus dearly but it was nice to be back in my own house.  I was barely able to decompress, despite all intents, as the next afternoon our new rescue dog, a chihuahua named Fez whom we adopted 2 weeks ago, ran away Monday as I was preparing for a bike ride in the garage.  He was with me for the additional purpose of fixing his color so his rabies vaccine tag would stay on.  At this point, since we had  not received his license yet, this rabies tag was his only identification...that was not on his collar when he decided to take off.

My whole world seemed to collapse.  We searched from 5 PM (when he took off) until dusk.  We called 311 (the city's general information line, since the Animal Control offices were closed).  I cried big body-shaking sobs all night...feeling like I failed Fez as a mother.  It was chilly for a skinny chihuahua, he was small enough to be owl food, and it began to rain.  I honestly thought I'd never see him again.  My friends all texted or called me, asking if they could help search, or just come over to console me.  I posted Fez's picture on Facebook, and within twenty minutes, it was reposted everywhere...even the Fleet Feet Rochester FB group page.  I was so touched by everyone's concern, that (of course), I cried.

I woke up, and waited for the Verona Street Animal Shelter to open at 11.  In the meantime, my friend Michelle printed up 150 "Lost Dog" posters".  I stopped at her place about noon to pick them up, then went to the animal shelter to see if he had been picked up or turned in.  The lady took me through all the cages - two rooms worth - with no Fez...lots of dogs I would love to adopt, but no Fez.  She then took me to the last two rooms, rooms for animals needing surgery (which would be plausible since Fez had not been fixed yet).

The first room was all cats, and I started to lose hope, knowing there was one more room to see.

Then she took me into the next room...on the bottom row in the middle (cage 6, as I remember), there Fez was, shaking, but came right up to the cage when he saw.  I shook too, sobbing uncontrollably, and I'm sure the lady thought I was insane (she assured me she didn't though).  He was picked up that morning by Animal Control while walking not even a mile from my house.  I understood that Animal Control doesn't - and can't - pick up every single dog they pass by, but I'm thinking that by calling 311 the day before, they realized that he truly was a lost dog that would be reclaimed.

Long story short, Fez was sprung out of jail early, for $70.50, after my vet called and assured the shelter that Fez had a standing appointment in two days to be neutered and have a teeth cleaning (otherwise, Fez was not able to come home with me without being neutered, and I didn't want him to undergo a second surgery under general anesthesia for the teeth cleaning).

So, yes, Fez is on Parole versus still in jail, thanks to Dr. Randall.  His conditions of parole include:  gender reassignment no later than June 16, that he be under my supervision at all times, and that his paperwork proving that he had the surgery be faxed to Verona Street Animal Shelter.  When I brought Fez home, he slept for all but just a few hours, whether on my chest as I was stretched out on the sofa, or in his dog bed.  I suppose roaming the streets alone at night is tough for the little fella...

What a rough 36 hours I've had.  Thankfully I have a fun race this afternoon, as I have not run since my race on Sunday.

Happy trails...