Fat face...

"I'm going to have an early night..." has been the catchphrase of my week.  I've said it nearly every night and managed it never.  Caesar likes an early night too.  I get my audio book on and we snuggle up under the duvet and I listen and he snores.  Only last night, the usual comforting snores of Caesar's sleep terrified me more by the second...

This is how it happened...

We'd decided on an early tea and I was sitting with my laptop balanced on my knee on the sofa as Damien cooked up a breakfast.  I lifted my hand to close the lid and Caesar, who was half on half of my leg flinched and winced.  I stopped in horror.  "You don't think I'm going to hit you?" I looked at him perplexed.  Caesar's history has always been a giant question mark and I've always wondered if any bad memories carry with him.  But he's been here two years now and I'd hope he knows that I wouldn't allow anything to happen to him.  I went to stroke him a moment later and he flinched again.  I called Damien.

"I don't know if something's happened to him but I think he's afraid I'll hit him..." I told him.  Damien shrugged when I showed him and then suddenly his expression changed.  Aghast he reached for Caesar's face.  "His cheek is all swollen he said."  I looked and he was right.  Because I was sitting on his left side, I was unable to see that his left lip and cheek were swollen as if he's been punched by Mike Tyson.  Panic set in as somewhere in my mind I remembered training about anaphylactic shock in children.  One of the things we were told to look for and report as a matter of urgency was swollen lips.

Swelling to the left side of Caesar's face came up suddenly.

Caesar has a habit of waiting until just after closing time at the vets on a weekend before deciding to come down with something potentially life threatening.  The first, and worst thing, I did was googled it.  One good thing about googling is that there's always someone worse.  And in this case, there were quite a few dogs who had seen much worse.  Some had swollen eyes and weeping scabs.  Others looked more like they'd been in a car accident than 'stung by a bee' which seemed to be the most common cause of the swelling.

I had two pieces of advice I was happy with.  A good friend and dog trainer, Chris, had told me to pop a cold compress on his face and perhaps try some Piriton.  I wandered over the the supermarket having pressed a cool towel to Caesar's face - he seemed thankful for the relief.  I had two names; "Benadryl" and "Piriton".  I couldn't find either!  Then, suddenly, I set my eyes on "one a day" by Benadryl.  I snatched them up and took them home.  However, when I got them back, I realised that they contain a drug called centirizine.  I googled it and got no results for whether it was safe for dogs or not - people on forums seemed to be debating it and there were many references to a 'poisoning in dogs' article which I was unable to find.  I decided to leave it.  Another trip to the supermarket would reveal that there was nothing safe to feed dogs.

*Very very useful note:  I cleared this up with the vet on the phone and she told me that centirizine is not safe to give dogs.  So for anyone wondering there's the easy answer that I could have done with last night!

Now it was decision time.  "In case of a GENUINE emergency..." the vets answer phone played.  As a pet owner, it's hard to make a good decision when it comes to this.  I've heard many people slandered for not taking their dog to the vet fast enough yet, at the same time, vets aren't keen on you wasting their time out of hours with non-emergency problems.  I looked at Caesar's face again.  It was really swollen.

Poorly doggy with a swollen face.

This is when it struck me; my insurance company provide a free 'Vetfone' service.  So I decided to ring this.  "I'd like you to ring out of hours..." said the vet on the end of the line.  "Your vet may not necessarily want to see you but I think it's best that they make that judgement..."  At least someone had now told me loudly and clearly what exactly I needed to do.  I called.

At first I felt panicky and spoke quite fast.  "I've had another bee sting today..." the vet told me calmly.  "That's what it sounds like...."  Despite my calling out of hours, she was very understanding.  "You sound worried." She said, "do you want to go over the the surgery and I'll meet you there?  Say 10 oclock?"  She thought that this could be an emergency too.
"So it's an emergency then?"  I couldn't help but blurt out.  Half mortified and half relieved not to have wasted her time.
"Personally.." she paused.  "If it's been like this for a while...I'd be tempted to leave it until the morning.  Keep an eye on him and, if anything changes, call back straight away.  I think it's unlikely to change now."

Poorly sleepy head.

So that's what I did.  I woke up every hour all night to look at him, prod him, call his name and wonder whether he was asleep or unconscious, snoring or struggling to breathe.  I lay awake wondering what would happen if I went in the morning and it was a tumour and nor a bee sting?  What if he needed and operation?

***

With his swollen face, Caesar could not wear his head collar.  This made me nervous.  He's hard to control on a lead and rears up at the dogs that he sees.  But I knew there was no choice.  

I love Caesar dearly and it's hard to explain to people who see the standing on his hind-legs barking Caesar that actually he's a massive wimp and would not hurt anyone.  It's hard to believe that myself sometimes, despite seeing evidence of it all of the time.  I left Caesar outside with Damien and checked us in.  Another two dogless ladies sat beside me and we giggled about why we don't bring our dogs into the waiting room.  "Just wait..." I told them.  Another lady sat by the door with a shaking, barking ball of fluff and made comments about another persons doberman.  "He's harmless!" the man said as the huge dog lolloped in but she just rolled her eyes.  I dreaded bringing Caesar past her and crossed my fingers, hoping that she'd gone in by the time it was our turn, but we had no such luck.  "Caesar..."  called a voice and I opened the door to allow the whimpering, squealing mongrel in.  The woman grabbed her dog and swore.  "That looks like a nasty dog," she said.  Less than quietly.  She was still passing comments when we came back out with 2 bags of medication and a better understanding of how much pain our pet was in.

**Impromptu rant:  I do feel that it was extremely unfair of said dog owner to pass comments about other peoples pets and I was upset that this was going on in a vet clinic waiting room.  For her sake, I'm quite glad that what Caesar had didn't turn out to be extremely serious or I might have gone and given her a piece of my mind.  It's a very good job that no one was bringing a larger dog in with a serious medical condition or that had reached the end of it's life.  I can understand that some people are not keen on larger and stronger breeds and I can see why but it is completely unnecessary to say things about people's dogs in a vet where they might be really ill!  ...I'm finished now.

So what was actually wrong with Caesar?  He has an abscess.  The vet is hopeful that it might go away with antibiotics (something I was not aware could happen).  However, should the medication fail to work, he will need to be operated on.  So all of our fingers, toes and paws are crossed hoping that he will recover.  The vet is unsure what has caused it as it is on the inside of his cheek but it looks as though it has been pierced by something and become infected.  The fact that it had come up so quickly suggests that it was pierced rather than just developing over time.  He also has a strong dosage pain killer to help him get back on his feet.

Caesar after some pain killers.  Feeling a bit better.

If you liked it, bark about it!

On the outside

Today marked the start of a very stressful week.  I know this because I was stressed about today before today actually happened.  I had made an appointment at the vets for 2 dogs, both at the same time and the latest they could give me was 5:00.  This would be fine except for that I had meetings on a Monday which usually end between 4:30 and 5:00.  Plus, the vets surgery is 20 minutes away.  I was going to have to attempt to excuse myself - not something that I like to do.

Anyway, you can imagine my glee when the usual meeting was rearranged for Thursday.  I now knew that I had plenty of time to get from A to B without flooring my car (which still has the engine light on from the floods - probably better sort that out too)!  Also, it's freezing, so the only thing I feel like doing is going to bed in the fire!

It's sitting by the fire time already!
Unfortunately, Gemma got their first.

'Never mind, I'll just sit on her!'

Not being a fan of being close to other dogs, Caesar doesn't love visits to the vets at the best of times and I could see him beginning to shake as we wandered up the path towards the familiar door.  As we entered, and on seeing another dog, he began to howl.  Now, normally, I stand outside with Caesar as he is very loud and was planning on doing this as soon as I had let the receptionist know that we were here for our appointment.  On seeing the other dog, Caesar barked and squealed and did his usual 'I'm far too excited for such a small space!' routine.  I stroked his head and told him politely to 'shut up.'  The receptionist winced but ignored us as she continued to work on her computer.  "He's ok," I explained over the din, trying to hold him still as I waited for her to acknowledge us with some eye contact. "He doesn't like other dogs, I'll take him outside."  At this point, the other dog was called into the waiting room leaving me, Caesar, Gemma and Damien.  Caesar quietened down.  "He's just very excitable," I explained to her blank face.  "He gets excited about other dogs."  She nodded, not looking particularly interested.  "If another dog comes in here to wait..." I added, my cheeks reddening at the fact I was being ignored, "...then I'll wait outside."

Anything remotely exciting is
worth a good bark!

No other dog did wait and Caesar sat quietly by my side for a while.  A few minutes later, a lady walked through with another dog and straight out of the door.  Caesar barked as the dog passed and the receptionist got to her feet.  "I'm going to have to ask you to stand outside." she said unkindly.  I looked at her blankly.  By this point Caesar was quiet again.  "We can't answer the phone when he's making that racket." She said bluntly, pointing towards the door, then turned to her computer screen again.

Would rather stay cuddled up to my
best bud, Conehead, any day!

My cheeks burned and my eyes stung.  I was so angry at being asked to leave a vets and stand outside in the cold because Caesar was barking.  When the vet came outside to pick us up, she greeted us with a smile, "come on in you noisy two!" she said smiling towards Caesar and Gemma.  "It's not the little one, called the receptionist.  She seems nice..."

Usually, I am a calm person who is reasonable and the vast majority of times, on a busy day, I take the initiative to bring Caesar outside myself.  But today there was no one there and it was cold enough to make us both shake.  I felt a rush of anger as I stood with my hands up my sleeves outside.  It was almost enough to make me put Caesar back in the car and tell the secretary that I would be taking my custom elsewhere.

As I left, there were 2 Chihuahua's in the waiting room both barking at each other and at Gemma.  Oddly enough this was deemed acceptable noise by the receptionist.

How does your dog react in the vets?  Should noisy dogs be made to stand outside?  

Inconveniently ill

My eyes are drooping as I type this.  I had hoped that I would come in, order a takeaway, eat said takeaway and go to bed.  Instead, I came in, dithered over take away, couldn't find a phone to call takeaway, changed mind about takeaway, ordered an online takeaway and now I'm in the process of waiting for an hour for said takeaway to arrive.  By which time, I'll either have died of hunger or fallen asleep in my chair.  In the meantime, I decided to write a blog explaining why I'll be falling asleep in my chair and here it is:

Last night was hectic.  As a rule, I don't live a particularly hectic life.  I, like Caesar, like my set routine and anything out of the ordinary stresses me.  I do love a good meal out now and again but the thought of returning home later than usual is highly inconvenient as it means that I have to miss parts of my routine.  Then the question is; which parts?  What do I sacrifice?  Last night was the date of the monthly writing club that I have begun to attend.  It was my second meeting so I still felt the butterflies in my stomach as I considered reading my writing out loud.  The previous time, I had lost my balance and felt faint as I'd tried to read.  Anyhow, I rushed to my parents after work to print the chapter of the book which I was to present.  Then, not having time to go home, I rushed straight to the club.  I didn't get home until after 9.  The door was locked.

Correctly assuming that Damien was at the gym, I hunted for my key and unlocked the door, bracing myself for a cuddle and kiss from Caesar.  It didn't come.  The house was silent and there was no sign of him in the living room.  I searched upstairs and found him snuggled up on my bed - not unusual and with the cold I thought nothing more of it.  Later, he pottered downstairs and tried to climb on my knee, I gave him a quick cuddle but he jumped off a few moments later.  Then, he began hiccup-retching and licking his lips manically.  I've seen this before, it usually means that he's going to be sick.  I patted his back and waited but nothing happened.  This went on for almost an hour.  

Eventually, I resorted to the font of all knowledge - the internet.  By this point it was late and I sat in bed by the glow of my iPad.  I kept coming up with the same answer GDV - Gastric torsion.  I'd never heard of it.  The more I looked, the more I panicked.  Until, eventually, I decided to ring the 24hr helpline offered to me by my pet insurance.  The nurse at the other end of the phone (after slyly confirming that this was not a pre-existing condition with questions like 'have you currently got a vets appointment booked? - What is it regarding?') confirmed my worst fears.  "That sounds like it could be a gastric twist," she said.  By this point I was out of bed and already pulling off my pyjamas and throwing on my clothes.  Caesar, who didn't want to move, lay breathing heavily on the bed.  I could feel my hand shaking as she instructed me not to 'panic' - clearly not someone who has met me before.  If I do one thing well, it's panicking!  I can send myself into a panicky frenzy over just about anything.  In the Summer of 2005, I convinced myself I had Bird Flu just because I panicked so much about getting it.  I can panic about anything.  In fact, I now try to avoid the news as much as possible due to the fact that it has this horrendous effect on me.  

The overly calm nurse instructed me to call my vets as soon as possible and follow the procedure for the out of hours clinic.  "Follow your vet's advice," she told me.  I wasn't planning on ignoring it.

As the line connected to the vet, I began to talk hurriedly.  "He has a swollen stomach, he's shaking, he's licking his lips and doing hiccuppy type gagging noises," I told her.
"He's feeling sick," she confirmed.  This I was pretty sure of.  Before she continued, Caesar contributed to the conversation with a giant belch.  "That's good," she said.  'It might be good for you, you're not sitting next to him' I thought. 

Caesar didn't want to move; just lie on the bed.

The vet quickly explained that a gastric twist means that air is stuck in the dogs abdomen and this can be fatal.  She told me that, had this been the case, I would have seen his condition deteriorating rapidly, usually over 15-20 minutes.  She also assured me that I'd been right to call and explained that she could look Caesar over if I would like but, as he had burped and then pumped another twice since the phone conversation, she was fairly sure he was just feeling sick.  At the worst, she thought he may have a blockage.  "Keep an eye on him tonight," she offered, "then bring him in in the morning."  I kept to my word.  Throughout the night, I watched him carefully and observed his breathing and temperature.

This morning, the alarm called me from my disturbed sleep at 6:45 and Caesar bounded out of bed, tail wagging and went to wait for his breakfast.  I dropped Caesar at my parents' just to ensure that he wasn't ill while I was at work.  He had a whale of a time.  This morning, he bounded around the house excitably, this afternoon he jumped on my dad's friend's knee and knocked his coffee from his hand.  He had the time of his life all day!  I, on the other hand, struggled through twelve hours at work almost having to hold my eyes open with matchsticks!  

"Yes, he's been great all day - you sound a bit tired..."

Has your dog ever taken ill suddenly?  Was it serious or, like Caesar, did it pass by the next day?