8 hours later we were pulling in to my parent's driveway; Hunter definetely remembered his old 'stomping grounds', and any manners he previously had went right out the door when we arrived.
The "canine dynamics" is quite peculiar at my parents house. Let's introduce the crew first.
- Ace - Ace is my Dad's recently retired police service dog. He's big, black and a little ornery in his ripe 10 years of age.
- Chloe - Chloe is a chatty little Pomeranian who is 3 years old; she is the 'family' dog
- Wrex - Wrex is Hunter's 'replacement', the newest VPD recruit puppy. He is visually a bit awkward and barks a lot to compensate for his lack of confidence. He's about 8-9 months old.
Thus the house is somewhat segregated. Buster and Hunter follow me wherever I go, Wrex and Ace rotate around behind us, the paths of the two 'groups' never crossing, and Chloe sits upstairs and barks menacingly at all the big dogs; it's a sort of controlled chaos.
This morning we headed to Canada West for Hunter's appointment. I'll admit it, I was dreading this morning's visit. Hunter had to be fasted (no food for 12 hours) in case they needed to administer a sedative for his radiographs, and food is what I use to keep Hunter's attention focused on me to prevent him from reacting negatively to people and pets.
Hunter is what I categorize as a 'reactive' dog; not aggressive, but likes to vocally express his uncertainty and nervousness around new people and dogs.
When we arrived at CWVS, the waiting room was relatively full with people and a few small pets in carriers. The full blown display of noise I expected didn't happen immediately, but I was holding my breath in anticipation.
We sat down after checking-in to wait for the technician. One of the staff members approached, complimenting Hunter on his handsome face and asked if she could pet him. I was reserved, and cautioned her that he generally barks at strangers, but she could approach him slowly to see how it went.
Damned if the dog didn't make a complete liar out of me; he went right about to the woman, gave her his saddest 'puppy eyes' and began licking her hands and wagging his tail. He accepted her praise and pets and even enjoyed a giant hug. I was a dumbfounded!
When our turn came to see the doctor the technican came out to lead us into the exam room. I warned her that Hunter could be reactive and to just avoid eye contact, which she did. Dr Kuzma, Hunter's talented surgeon entered the room; no barking there either! He happily let the doctor palpate his elbow and manipulate the joint, and then followed them into the back for his radiographs.
Hunter co-operated enough for radiographs that no sedation was necessary and about 20 minutes later he emerged from the back, dragging the technican across the waiting room to try and make a break for the front door.
Dr. Kuzma ushered us back to view the radiographs. He explained to me that while some progress has been made, the anconcel process has not fused onto the ulna 100%. This is slightly concerning, because a dog (especially a young, healthy one like Hunter) should be able to form new bone in less than 3 months, which Hunter has not done.
He requested that Hunter be kept on the same restricted activity schedule for another month, and then be radiographed again to check the joint. If the anconeal process has still not fused by that time, Dr. Kuzma suspects it may not heal anymore.
Which leaves us in a predicament.
Perhaps, where things stand, the joint is stable enough that Hunter will be able to resume a normal, active lifestyle and have no issues from the leg. If the callus is not strong enough, and we resume exercise with Hunter in a month's time, we will most likely see acute onset of lameness and swelling in the joint - and the surgery will have failed.
Dr. Kuzma assured me that if the surgery does indeed fail, not to worry, he will simply have to go through another surgery to have the anconeal process removed. Great...except who has the bank account to pay for another expensive surgery on an already pricey dog!
We left the clinic feeling a bit hopeless. After 3 painful months attempting to harness Hunter's endless supply of energy, and at least $5,000 in surgical and emergency bills, we are left with one month to determine whether the surgery was a success or a failure.
Driving home I went through a few phases of emotions; at first I was upset - I was so optimistic that Hunter would be given a green light to resume a normal life today.
Secondly, I was angry. All this money and time, and all for nothing? Then, my rationality kicked in. Dr. Kuzma cautioned us that the surgery only had a 50% chance of success, and we decided to go ahead despite that fact. We are also very lucky...had we not been able to pay for the surgery in the first place, Hunter may have lost the leg without even attempting to salvage it.
So now we find ourselves playing the waiting game yet again. An additonal month of restricted activity seems like hell to me now, but hey, we've made it through 120 days what's another 30? We can only continue on as is, trying to keep Hunter reserved, and hope that in a month we see an improvement in the elbow. If not, well, we leave it up to fate. Perhaps he will do fine with the joint as it currently stands, perhaps he won't. Only time will tell, and anger and disappointment can not change that.
I do know that a lot of time, hope and love has been invested into this quirky dog, and we are not going to give up on him yet. I'm not sure what will happen if the news is poor next month; I'm not sure how we will make ends meet financially if we have to endure another surgery. What I do know is that we will figure it out.
I have a very special family, who treats their dogs like children, and we are dealing with a very unique dog in a very ill-fated situation.
You'll have to excuse me now...I'm going to start collecting pop cans to prepare for the worst case scenario...
Hunter after his first surgery
No comments:
Post a Comment