I'm trying to get him up the 2 steps of my back porch and he looks at me like he doesn't know me, like I intend on hurting him. His running creates an acute pain in his right hind leg and sends him screaming, blind and frantic into the kitchen where he's cornered. I catch up to him and try to massage what seems to be sciatica of the unbearable kind.Anyone who's had a suffering dog knows the pain I've experienced for the past month. Sleepless nights, self-doubt about treatment and prevention, frustration with vets and endless worry when leaving them alone. My first dog, an 8 year old Italian Greyhound is the apple of my eye, and I am his. He's always had low pain tolerance and sensitivity to drugs, not a good combination. After losing his vision at about age 5, he has run into things and jammed his back numerous times, but this is the worst I've ever seen him. I always said if this chow-hound ever lost interest in food, I would be worried. And I am.
The MRI shows his disc compression between the lumbar and sacral, probably needing surgical decompression. Well-meaning friends give advice on all the non-traditional ways we can help him, but the dog-owners who've walked this path all tell me that Dr. Berry, the veterinary neurologist we met last week, is the best in the area. I make a note to myself that unsolicited advice is neither comforting nor helpful in a friend's time of crisis. A simple "I'm sorry" will do.
The pain patch Dr. Berry prescribed for Rocco in the mean time has given me my dog back to some degree. He wags his tail, wants food, and even licks his sibling dogs a bit.
Mani the Chihuahua has once again established his role as Doggie Florence Nightingale. He steers clear when Rocco's pain seems intense and when it subsides, he gently places himself nearby for a snuggle, being careful to give Rocco space. A deep sigh reveals the patient's appreciation for the company and consoling.
