Holiday Happiness

It's 3:30 Christmas Day. Lucy and I are sitting in front of the fire while J is out running the boys around the neighborhood for a good, tiring walk. The tree is lit and I'm eyeing some balled up wrapping paper that needs to to be thrown away. I will get to that. In just a minute.

We had a lovely Christmas morning with our friends Jen and Tim and their two beautiful little girls. Jen is an incredible hostess who whipped up a beautiful Christmas breakfast for everyone, all while managing to tend to the kids and visit with her guests.

Tonight's pan is to snuggle by the fire with hot cocoa and maybe a movie.
Just quiet, warm, together, and happy.
A perfect ending to a wonderful Christmas.

Moments of Heartbreaking Terror

Sunday was my adorable little godson/nephew Brodie's baptism.

J and I planned to leave super early so we could stop at Mamoun's for lunch before making it to the church in plenty of time to be there for the little cutie's big day and some family time.

I need to learn to never plan to intentionally have a good day.

We woke later than expected because Lucy, our 5-5:30am alarm, slept in.  This was odd because Lucy loves food more than anything in the world and her breakfast is at 6am.  She even tries to trick me into feeding her early each day (hence the 5-5:30 wake-ups).

J turned on the light in the bedroom and we noticed a few little pee spots on the floor.  That was extremely odd and made us realize something wasn't right.

We tried to get her up off her sleep pillow, but she couldn't walk without falling over, her head was tilted and twisted, her eyes were darting back and forth constantly, and she wouldn't eat anything. We were horrified and heartbroken at what appeared to be a very serious condition that struck her overnight.

Her little body just wasn't working, though you could tell she was trying.  I thought she'd had a stroke. 

J and I tried to figure out what to do.  His parents were still staying at the house and they were obviously concerned for Lucy and for us.  They said we should go to Connecticut and they would keep an eye on her, but I was worried to leave her side and afraid to leave them with such a bad situation. What if something happened while we were two hours away? Should we bring her to the vet or wait and see if there were any changes over the course of the day?... and then there was the baptism.  I had to be there, but I felt like I couldn't leave.

J decided he would stay behind and bring her to the vet so I could go to Connecticut.  Her vet said she could come in for 11:30 and if I was going to make it to the baptism, I needed to leave well before 11.  J promised to call me and let me know what was happening.  With tears streaming down my face, I drove off in the pouring rain, convinced that I would get a call in an hour that would make me turn around and head to the vet.  I called my brother and sister-in-law and left messages explaining what was going on, that I was definitely on my way, but there was a chance I might have to turn back.  They both sent texts saying they understood (we're all dog people) and could easily have a stand-in fill in for me if I wanted to stay with Lucy.  I didn't know what to do.  I was driving, the rain was coming down in torrents, and I was crying my eyes out preparing for the worst.
I thought we were going to have to say goodbye to her.

Within minutes of crossing the border to Connecticut, I got a call from J.  He said it wasn't as bad as we feared, most likely.  He wanted to put the vet on the phone so he could explain it to me directly.  She was diagnosed with idiopathic canine vestibular disease (http://thebark.com/content/idiopathic-or-old-dog-vestibular-disease ). We were told she would likely begin to recover in just a few days, and if she didn't we would have to consider the possibility of a tumor in her brain, but the vet assured me that the prognosis was more than likely good. Given the condition she was in, this seemed impossible, but two days later she was almost completely back to normal.  

I worked from home Monday and Tuesday, sitting next to her as I answered emails and finished projects with more efficiency than I would have had I been in the office.  I had to feed her with a syringe, force her meds down her throat a few times a day, and encourage her to walk around the house between her naps, but Lucy seemed to thrive on the constant care and attention.  I was by her side all day, working next to her, petting her little body and keeping her close.  I slept downstairs with her Monday and Tuesday night so I could get her outside right away and help her maneuver around the yard if she needed to go out (she was diagnosed with a UTI on top of everything else).

This morning I worked a half day at the office and she seems to be doing quite well, especially considering her condition just a few days ago.  She is a little wobbly, but getting around like a pro, and her head is a little tilted, but in more of a cute and curious way than the exorcist-esque way it had been on Sunday and Monday.  She's even sleeping upstairs tonight on her usual pup pillow.

After reading up on the disease, Jason and I were saddened to discover that the diagnosis is sometimes overlooked and dogs who would otherwise fully recover are euthanized because they are thought to have something more serious (I cannot explain how terrible and serious it really did appear to be).
I am immensely thankful that our vet recognized what was really happening with her. And I am also immensely thankful that our little Lucy is well on the mend. 

Please take a moment to acquaint yourself with the symptoms of canine vestibular disease, so if it ever happens to one of your furry loved ones, you can make sure they are given a chance to recover.

Lucy, napping her way to recovery on Tuesday afternoon.