Yesterday was not a light, funny April Fool's Day. We had to take Blue to his final visit at the vet. Our poor pup had a major seizure the day that SR had the stroke. He couldn't walk, and the neighbors helped me with him. The vet gave him cortisone injections and sent him home with prednisone. It helped for a while. He survived almost 6 weeks from the seizure, which the vet said was the equivalent of being hit by a truck.
Sometimes I wonder about vets. I had total confidence in the vet we left in St Louis. I like the guy we have and his staff, but he stuck us with a high vet bill and sent me home with a dog who could still barely walk. Blue began to look like a skeleton. I cooked him ground round, scrambled eggs, anything to get him to eat more. He had a sensitive stomach, so was on the prescription ID food. Our kitchen counter looked like a pharmacy.
But there was something special about that dog. The vet in St Louis and here in Sarasota said he was one of the most memorable dogs they've had as patients. His face was so sweet, and he was such a gentle soul. After 10 years of battling the epilepsy he and I formed such a bond. He loved SR with all his heart. Blue used to bark at anyone who came into my house. He was a pain in the rear to anyone but me. He barked at my sister, my sons, everyone. When SR first visited, I was afraid Blue would drive him off. Instead Blue tried to sit on his lap, which is quite a feat for an almost 80 pound dog at the time. He was devastated when SR had the stroke and was so happy when SR returned from the hospital.
I couldn't write this yesterday, was too upset. I'm still crying, but need to think of the good times with Blue. The problem is the poor dog couldn't really run with the other hounds. We had to watch so Darlene and Xena didn't knock him down in the yard when they were running (and they did bump him accidentally too many times). The meds to control the epilepsy took their toll over the years on his rear legs. They started atrophying.
But the vet said at the end that he thought Blue had cancer. There were almost no muscles left on his rear legs and thighs. Greyhounds aren't supposed to look like that.
Run free at the bridge, my poor boy. I'll never forget the beautiful dog in my avatar, taken by a professional photographer when Blue was in the red rocks near Kenab, Utah.
