ZoomDoggy

Until I read this, I'd forgotten I had this pic of Jen's first meeting with Chancy. Chancy really did blend into our couch nicely. The first time she sneaked up there, it took me a while to find her.

One of the million things I miss about Chancy at this moment, is her ability to completely forget that she was no longer a puppy. She LOVED other dogs of all kinds (it was people who were scary), and always wanted to play with them. She would always RUN to greet me upon returning home. She'd rear and grin, and swipe at me with her crazy paw. And when I knelt down to greet her, she wouldn't look me in the face, but would wiggle and wag and lick my arm... I know it's not fair to compare Tip and Marla to Chancy or Sissy, but I really miss that happy-go-lucky demonstrative and infectious joy they both had. My greetings upon returning home now are just so subdued. It's just not the same...

I don't know what cerenia is, but metronidazole is a common drug (never heard of it being unsafe for greys, used it on mine several times) for treatment of intestinal upset. Oh, and Pepcid is the commercial name for Famotidine, which is an acid reducer. Also safe for greys. I also think a urinalysis and blood test would be in order.

Part 2 of 2... One of my favorite photos of all. Sissy, Tipper and Chancy. A perfect trio. Our January '06 trip to the north shore of Lake Superior. A late-season blizzard, perfect for a snow-day: And a short video of Chancy romping in the fluffy new snow... until Marla the fun-police steps in... Click here to watch Chancy-in-the-snow-24 Another beyond-adorable Sid & Chancy shot... Melted my heart every time they cuddled. That doe-eyed face... Chancy loved her ice cream. My gentle tigergirl was the only one who could be trusted not to eat my friend's unruly puppy... This was taken on Chancy's "Miracle morning." 24 hours after we were certain we'd lose her, 24 hours before we were forced to let her go. I'll love you forever, my sweet sweet doe-eyed girl. I hope you know that. I'm sorry we didn't have more time.

Goodbye, perfect beautiful boy.

I had to let my Chancy go last Friday, at age 12 years, 8 months. Never a sweeter, gentler soul has graced this Earth, and I was privileged to call her family for a far-too-short 25 months. I wrote this article for GPA-MN's newsletter in April 2007 (It's rather long, so skip down to the pics if you've a short attention span. ): >>>> Each Day is a Gift. A Tribute to My Beautiful Stripey Senior Hound, Chancy We'd owned our first greyhound, Tipper, for two years. We'd had Sissy for one year. I had quickly become enamored of the breed, and was actively involved in volunteering for GPA-MN. One day I saw that another volunteer had posted to the GPA-MN listserve, looking for a "permanent foster home" for a senior brindle girlie named Chancy who had been recently surrendered to the group. Chancy was thought to be 12 years old, and had a small grocery list of health problems, mostly due to woeful neglect by her previous owners. She was deemed "unadoptable" because very few new adopters would consider a sickly 12-year-old hound. We had never planned to have three dogs. I had never really been tempted because our house is just a small two-bedroom bungalow in the city. But a sentence I had read one of my first GPA newsletters kept ringing in my head: "Adding a senior hound to your home is as challenging as adding a throw rug." My heartstrings were effectively tugged. I called my husband, who was out playing golf. He sounded mildly annoyed at my interruption, and not thrilled about my idea of adding to our pack. We agreed to discuss it after he returned home. Ninety minutes later, my phone rang. It was my husband, still on the golf course. His first words: "What's her name?" I knew he was sold, the big softie. We arranged for Tipper and Sissy to meet Chancy at her temporary foster home. This was the final deciding factor. I wasn't worried, as Tip and Sissy always adored other greyhounds. Chancy was no exception. She was extremely shy with adults and fearful of children. She had infected weeping open sores all over her feet between her toes and in her nailbeds. She had the worst teeth I have ever seen, literally black, mushy, infected and rotten. She had a large rash of blackheads on her belly and unusually thick fur, indicating she'd likely spent large amounts of time outdoors. And she had a raging case of tapeworms. The saddest part is that upon reading her ear tattoos, we discovered she was only ten years old! She just seemed much older because of her ailments. Chancy was in dire need of a nice quiet loving home where she could relax and be thoroughly spoiled for the rest of her days. Our home fit the bill perfectly. I brought Chancy home a few days later. She fit in effortlessly, like a missing puzzle piece. Tipper was overjoyed, and Sissy showed Chancy the ropes of our home life. Chancy's shyness with us melted away within a few weeks. She went from running to hide when my husband returned home from work, to being the first to greet him, pushing Tip and Sissy aside, tail wagging, grinning her goofy gummy grin, and pogo-bouncing for attention. I decided that this "Permanent Foster" idea, nice as it was, would simply not do. Chancy deserved to be properly adopted. I sent in my adoption fee as a donation, and volunteered to cover her medical expenses from there forward. It did take several months to get Chancy's medical issues under control. Now that Chancy is well cared for, she is often mistaken for being much younger than she is. I wouldn't deceive anyone as to the added expense. But the privilege of watching Chancy blossom into a joyful loving dog in our home is worth it. Senior hounds truly do seem so very grateful for even the most minor of luxuries: a soft clean bed, fresh food and water, slow walks in the parks on sunny days, and the occasional gratuitous car-ride. Every penny invested is returned a thousandfold in love and devotion. Chancy has been in our lives for over 20 months now, and she is twelve years old (for real, this time). I don't know how many days, months, or years we have with our brave, gentle tigerdog, but each one is a gift I will cherish forever. We unexpectedly lost Sissy to cancer last August at age ten. We did not plan to adopt a third hound again. At least not right away. In December we heard about another senior girlie who sadly lost her home. Her name is Marla... >>>> And now the photo-montage in two parts... This is one of the first photos I ever took of my beautiful tigergirl, simply doing what she loved best: lounging in the grass. Tipper and Chancy, a once in a lifetime shot: Sid already misses the one dog who allowed him to cuddle... Hubby cuddling Chancy after a hike & a picnic: The next five are from the beach on Madeline Island last Labor Day weekend. Chancy loved that beach like no other place on Earth. Chancy on her 12th birthday. I told her every day past twelve is a birthday. More in next post...

My Sissy had low cobalamine levels, and chronic soft stools. I had given her the B12 injections for a time (easy subQ shot). I should have had her scoped, but didn't want to put her through it at the time. We assumed it was IBD and treated accordingly. Hindsight, we SHOULD have had her scoped. When she fell ill, we realized that the cancer had most likely started in her GI tract. Had we caught it sooner, she might have been a candidate for chemo. Sorry, I don't mean to scare you. Just my unfortunate experience.

Today was the day.

Well the decision has been made. We are not going to go. We had another bad night, another fever spike up to 105 at 3am. Appetite gone again. She's not in as bad a state as on Wednesday, but not as good as yesterday either. I've been cooling her with ice packs and frozen towels. I've had to force the last two sets of pills into her, as she won't even lick at the peanut butter right now. I consulted with my vet, and he suggested some adjustments in her meds. She still drinks, and can walk, although MUCH more wobbly/weak than yesterday. We got her outside at about 5:45am and she peed an ocean, and had a bout of bowel upset. But such a good girl for managing to hold that until outside. She's back in her flat bed now, still hasn't eaten, but I did get her pills in, thanks to Summertime's method of freezing the pills into a "bullet" of cream cheese. I'll give her some time to rest before offering more food. She's very listless right now, which scares me. But her eyes are still alert. I'm hoping the increased prednisone can perk her up soon... Poor hubby said he felt punished for being so optimistic yesterday. I said it was just a very rude reminder that we are nowhere near out of the woods.

Well we're still undecided about the trip. There are good reasons to go, and good reasons not to. I think we'll just wait and see what tomorrow brings... If we go, we won't leave until Saturday morning, so we have another whole day to think about it.

I was at work for a few hours, nervously leaving Chancy unattended. When I returned, she was sleeping so soundly I had to touch her to awaken her. (she's never been a sleep-aggression type, thank goodness. ) I invited her outside and we enjoyed the afternoon in the dappled shade of the yard. She enthusiastically ate another 1/3 can of soft dogfood, but refused a second helping. You can really tell in this pic how skinny she looks now that her spleen is shrinking. Where it's concave at her waist was hugely round and hard just two days ago. Sadly, you can also get a good idea how much muscletone she's lost. But we had a lovely lazy afternoon. Here are all three of my pups, my Peaceable Kingdom. Last week we had been planning to take the dogs up to Madeline Island to stay with friends for the long weekend. The last three days we had pretty much dismissed the idea. Now we're contemplating it again. Hubby thinks we should go, and I want to, but am a nervous-nelly (as y'all know by now. ). I assured him that it would be challenging, a lot of work to bring Chancy along. And risky, since we'd be at least a few hours away from the nearest e-vet. But my heart says we should go. The one other time we went was last year right after Sissy died. It was sad, but very healing. And Chancy absolutely loved the private enclosed beach. This would possibly be her last chance to see it again. Hubby even said he'd happily carry her up and down the long staircase down to the beach. He refers to this as the "Daddy-vator" Here's Chancy on a morning stroll on that beach last year:

Tell him we said hi. Actually I just called and left an update on his voicemail. I hope he's able to help you find some answers.

She ate 1/3 can of soft DOGfood (warming it in the microwave helpd, I think), all her peanut butter wrapped pills, and two scrambled eggs! : I offered her another collop of dogfood, but she said no thanks. Baby steps. In a few minutes I'm going to go in to work for a couple of hours. I'm very nervous about leaving her alone at all...

I took this pic just now. Chancy enjoying her miracle morning sunbeam.

A few minutes ago Chancy stood up and walked to the back door without being coaxed at all. : She really had to pee. : So we went outside, and she emptied her very full bladder, and even had a soft little poo. (I know that's the info you've all been waiting for ) She wobbled back up the 5 steps and into the house unassisted. This all may not sound like much, but it feels like HUGE progress since yesterday when she was at death's door. I definitely see that her tummy looks smaller and feels softer. That can't be anything but good, right? Though now that her spleen is shrinking a bit, I can really see how skinny she's become. The muscletone in her back legs has diminished significantly. 30 more minutes until meal and med time...

I am welcome to bring her in to work, but I'm not ready to stress her out by making her go up the six steps to get to the elevator, in front of scary strangers. Even before this latest mess started, she had a hard time there. Once in my office she was fine. It's nice & quiet there. If only I could just teleport her there... Beam her up, Scotty!

I've been instructed to start Chancy on Sucralfate (Carafate) to protect her stomach from the battery of other meds she's getting. It's a challenging one to administer, as it must be given in the middle of a four-hour window of no eating, three times daily. The problem is compounded by the fact I need to be offering Chancy food as often as possible, as her appetite is low and she needs to be eating. So she has three windows of time when she can eat: 1am to 5am (sleep!), 9am to 1pm (work!), and 5pm to 9pm (this one is easiest). Between each of those windows, the sucralfate must be given. I'm not sure how long I can keep this schedule up and still keep my job and get any decent sleep. Is sucralfate always given thrice daily? I'll be asking my vet when I check in today, but wondered if anyone else here were prescribed twice daily instead...

Still tired, but we all got a few good hours of sleep. I got up at 4:30 to offer Chancy some food before her 5am food cutoff for the empty-stomach meds. She ate two jars of baby food and drank some water, but wasn't interested in anything else right now. I wanted to get her on her feet and walk around a bit, maybe go outside to pee. Mostly just to make sure she was capable. She was extremely wobbly, but made it on her own. : Her back feet are slightly puffy, probably from the IV fluids they gave yesterday. I also noticed that the paw with the catheter is somewhat swollen. I'm sure the bandage was too tight, so I removed the catheter ( that we won't have to put in another one soon.. for any reason) and massaged that paw for a while. Hubby agreed with me that her tummy feels softer. It's still swollen looking, but not rock-hard like it has been. I hope that's a good thing. She's sitting up right now, panting a bit, but not as desperately as yesterday, and no repeat of yesterday's copious drooling either. All of this is good progress, if not fast progress. I hope she starts eating more normally soon, as I don't know how long I can keep up this schedule and stay employed (not to mention sleep!). I'm going to get another hour of sleep before next med-time. I'd like to try to go in to work today for a couple hours here & there between meds & meals. It's a tight schedule though, esp since I want to feed her as often as possible, since she eats so little at a time.

Ice cream may be a possibility. If she'll swallow it fast enough. Everyone here is asleep except me and Zorba. Hubby crashed on the couch while watching me tangle with Chancy's meds and peanut butter. In 90 minutes I have to give her one more med. It must be given on an empty stomach, thus the delay. Man am I tired. And broke. I don't want to think about how I'll feel if all this doesn't help my poor tigergirl... Guilty, is the front runner. For making her go through one more hard day. A day of being surrounded by scary strangers who poke her with needles while trapping her in a kennel... They left the catheter in, in case we need to put her back on an IV tomorrow. Or in case we need to euthanize tonight... Man am I tired.

Dang my tigergirl is too smart for her own good! I just gave her the evening meds, wrapped in peanut butter. Normally she has no problems with this, but since the number of various pills has increased, I think she's starting to suspect my ulterior motive to the delicious peanut-buttery goodness. After lickylickylickying the first three small gobs of PB, she carefully spat out three of her seven pills, meticulously denuded of peanut butter. Thankfully PB is irresistible enough that she ate the same pills, re-wrapped in fresh PB. I used to hide pills in cream cheese, but she no longer likes that. Sometimes I hid them in her special meatballs, but currently she's not interested in those either. What ever shall I do if/when she stops liking peanut butter? I'm afraid to force the pills into her, due to the risk of choking/inhaling because of the tieback surgery...

We're home. Just seeing Chancy walk to me from the vet's back room was enough to bring (more) tears to my eyes. She's very tired, not that this is a change really. But she walked, peed in the yard, drank some water, ate two jars of baby food and 2.5 ounces sliced turkey. All of this I never expected to see happen again. I'm giving her a little break to settle the food before offering more. We're starting some meds that will require tricky timing with food. I'm going to have to make a meds chart just to keep everything straight. She's home for now. I'm still sick with worry and fear, and it's going to be another long night, but we're just taking it one hour at a time.

I should add that if things go well, I'll be bringing her home tonight, and starting oral prednisone to continue what today's IV has started. We really had no hope when we walked in there. Now there is a single ray, although a dim one. What finally swayed my decision to try the IV was that Chancy was still bright-eyed, and still greedily drinking water.

We didn't do it. We had a horrible night during which Chancy was feverish, couldn't eat, and couldn't stand up, was defecating in her bed. So we brought her in to the vet absolutely believing the worst, but Dr. Barr gave us one other option before he was willing to give up. So we left Chancy there (which I HATE to do. HATE.) to receive fluids and intravenous corticosteroids to see if that can perk her up. The steriods may also help reduce the spleen size, aiding her comfort and allowing more space for her other organs (like her poor smushed stomach). I got a call from Dr. Barr about 90 minutes after we left (before we had even gotten back home), saying after one hour on the fluids & steroids, Chancy had already stood up and walked outside on her own to pee, and then came back in to her kennel and ate some food. Maybe there is a God.

I'm going to have to let her go today. She spiked a 105+ fever last night, and is no longer able to stand or eat. I'm bringing her in as soon as the vet opens. At this point, I didn't see the need to go to E-vet. My poor poor sweet tigergirl....

Xray is usually the first step. There will be visible bone deterioration, as I understand.