I hesitate to write about this, because it feels very fresh and emotional, but it's whats forefront on my mind today. Our big buddy dog is sick.
We started noticing a change in him around Thanksgiving. I thought it was just my parents wacky terrorists, I mean terriers bothering him and the commotion of being out of town. But he's been kind of depressed and listless and hasn't wanted to do much. And the biggest indicator is he stopped eating his food. A really bad sign since Mr Cooper loves food and can never get enough. So, we took him to the vet while home and were told we needed to do an ultrasound to check for cancer because everything else check out fine. I was hoping it was just some sort of bug. It's been super cold so when he started shaking slightly we just thought he was cold. But the little tremors were getting worse and kept going even during his sleep.
Hubs took him to this wonderful clinic in Greenville for the ultrasound last week. Good news is there was no cancer in his organs. The bad news is they believe it's neurological and could be a brain tumor. Just hearing those words sent my mind into a tailspin. To determine the tumor, we'd have to do an MRI, which of course is crazy expensive. And if they do find something, the treatment options are even more so. We decided to monitor and just see how he did the next couple days on some pain meds, But were so worried and didn't know what to do. He was simply not himself and didn't have any idea if he was in pain or not. It hurt my heart so much and I ached for what Trev must be feeling. I'd been praying really hard that he would improve.
Yesterday, while husband was in class, I noticed Coop was not having a great day. More shaking and he didn't want his breakfast. When I took him out for a walk about, he tip toed and seemed unsure about where to put his feet. I tried walking him around but he was wobbly and pretty out of it. I was very freaked out, called hubs and knew we needed to take him in right away. So I loaded him into the car and headed to the vet. Puffy eyes and all. We sat in the nice waiting room with 2 other dog patients, but at this point I was on the verge of sobbing right then and there. The nice lady with her jack russell asked me about Coop. I tried to smile and mutter a few words, but the tears would not subside. She smiled and understood I couldn't talk. I was really worried.
The vet could not have been nicer. She sat by him, stroking his belly, explaining what she believed was going on. We don't know exactly, but all signs point to neurological and that to her says brain tumor. If that indeed is what it is, prognosis is not good. Not good at all. They just get worse and lifespan is limited. By this point I was still a mess. I would blame this on my prego hormones, but I think it was just the enormity of it all. It hurt all over. Still does. The sweet vet even gave me a hug as I pulled myself together.
It's just that this all happened so fast. That's what I told my vet friend, Carrie, when she called to check on the patient. I want him to get old, and fat and get more of that white beard he's started growing. I want him to nuzzle our new baby this summer and go on walks with the stroller. It all seems very unfair.
So buddy is going on a steroid for now. It won't fix what is wrong, but it will make him feel better and help with any pain. And we are going to stay positive. Layer extra blankets around his big bed, give him more belly rubs, feed him more treats and just love & appreciate the big buddy while he's with us. I'll keep yall up to date, but say a little dog prayer for him if ya can.