So I consider myself a dog person. Kind of. Had dogs when I was a kid, but my parents would never have dreamed of having them in the house. Then, when Sylvia and I got married, her dog was part of the package, an overweaned bitch answering to the name of Lady Chanel (the dog that is). To unbiased observers Lady Chanel was strange looking to say the least.
She was not quite what my wife had anticipated when she purchased a purebred poodle pup. It became evident as Lady Chanel grew older that the chihuahua next door must have had a contribution to the preserved
poodle gene bank, because Lady Chanel had a face and ears that were a
cross between a rat and a bat. Poo-Chee, or Chi-Poo, call it what you
will. It was unusual. People sometimes found her cute.
Alas, Lady Chanel died
after 16 great years of life and now her ashes are in a box over the
mantelpiece. Time went on, and as you have no doubt anticipated, there was a clamor for another
dog. It was my eleven year old son mostly who wanted one. But I was not averse to it. I am on record as saying, "Let's get a real dog this time."
Sylvia finally came out of mourning and she agreed to get my son his dog. The two of them went off to the animal shelter to make their choice.
This happened while I was at work. They made their pick, and
then--the rules of the animal shelter required this--I had to go to in
person and signal my approval to the staff at the shelter; you see, they
don't want dogs coming back just because you find out when you get home that Dad doesn't like the pick.
Well,
Dad didn't like their pick. "Another ugly dog," I believe were my
exact words. By this time, my son's heart was set on Julia, for such was
the prospective adoptee's name. Out of my son's hearing I asked Sylvia
if she couldn't get him to pick another dog. She confessed that she also was not that excited about Julia; she was
predisposed to a perky chihuahua called Buster, while I favored a newly
arrived pup--Charles was his name--who was engaging, playful, and
promised to grow well past chihuahua height. A real dog in other words. All the time we were at the shelter, Buster and
Charles were at the doors of their cages, pushing through the wire,
anxious to join our family, tails wagging like weed whackers.
Meanwhile,
the aforementioned Julia sat in the deepest recesses of her cage, not
coming anywhere near the wire door. She was a cross between chihuahua (Ay
Chihuahua, otra ves!) and dachshund. She did not smile. And another thing--she
limped. Her left hind leg was damaged. We were told she'd been found bloodied and scared, perhaps thrown out of a car. The shelter had treated her wounds, spayed her, given her her shots, and now, after a few weeks of being there,
she was good to go. So Julia came home with us, despite my unspoken reservations.
Soon after we brought her home, for reasons that are still
mysterious to me . . . she stole my heart. It crept up on me as I look back, this stealing of the heart, but all of a sudden I was thinking about her a lot, anxious for her as you might be anxious for a baby, reluctant to go
to work, eager to see her when I got back. By the second night she was
in our bed, and now two months later, I cringe to imagine that I might
have left her to her fate at the animal shelter, and picked Charles or Buster. My family looks at me strangely thinking this is hardly possible that I should be so besotted.
But what is most mysterious is this sensation I have of a door having
opened in my heart, and this mute little creature having walked in there.
It's a bit unsettling. What else about myself do I not know? What other doors are waiting to get unlocked? Is there
a seagull out there waiting to bond with me. A polar bear? What
part of the human genome explains this need to give affection to and receive it back from another species? Is it a function of my age? Is it because I failed all these years to make such an animal bond, and therefore all that missing time is compressed into this moment?
What other mysteries await, I want to know. I ponder these questions as I walk around with Julia in my arms.
Julia's limp, by the way, turns out to be a torn medial cruciate ligament,
the ACL equivalent of dogs. Fixing it costs $2,000. I'd never consider spending
that kind of money (what dyathink, I'm nuts?) But . . .I am considering it. The opinions I am getting from dog owners is surprising, because a majority say don't fix it. Is she in pain? No? Then leave it
alone. Surgery means more pain, a prolonged recovery. And after surgery we are
supposed to keep her from running (when she loves nothing more than to
run, and she runs faster on three legs than most dogs with four).
It's an ethical dilemma. I'd ask her if she could talk. I would really want to know what she'd want done.
What do you think? Here is her picture. Talk to me!
Comments (14)
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Abraham Verghese
With that sweet face who wouldn't be besotted? I think the criteria here is whether she has pain and if she is happy. If she gets along ok just leave it alone. When she's older the problem might get worse and then you can decide what to do. Best wishes to you both.
Please think of this from the dog's point of view.
She is not in pain. She does not know that she limps. She is not self-conscious
about not being "perfect"
Don't cut her for your own vanity.
I am not trying to sound harsh (but on second read it does sound harsh), so please don't take it that way.
Our beloved dog has bad hips. One vet said you must cut right away. An old country vet said "Wait until she tells you she is in pain", and she is not.
Please wait until she tells you she is in pain.
vr
With a dog this small, I'm thinking that the potential for aggravation of an ACL injury is less than with a "real" dog, and I'm skeptical that the existing injury would correlate with increased risk of arthritis or other chronic pain when she gets older. If she's not getting tackled by other dogs during rigorous play, and she's not compensating for the injury by putting excessive wear on other parts of her body, then it's hard to get excited about a repair with a very difficult rehab in a dog that isn't going to understand why she's being made to suffer.
As others are telling you, I'm inclined to leave this alone until the dog is in pain. The worst case with this strategy is that the leg damage would no longer be reparable later, as are minor ACL tears now, and you could be looking at an amputation to address the pain. Holy cow, that's one tiny little leg.
I suppose the argument for would be that she'd have more fun after going through the misery of the surgery and recovery, assuming all went well, which is of course not guaranteed . . . but this is a dog who's already been through misery, thus the cowering in the rear of her cage at the shelter.
If she seems happy, let her be.
also keep in mind dogs' relatively short lifespans. My Dad's chocolate lab Maggie spent many years joyfully running after kongs, especially near and in water, but all too often on pavement. She's only 10, and her hips hurt from all the running, and she's getting cataracts and now has to listen for the kong. It still gives her joy, but mostly she just wants dinner (labs really respond to food rewards, which presents a problem because you want to give them what they want (they're good at inducing that emotion), but you know it's not good for them). She still seems mostly content aside from the imposed diet, and still seems to dream of running after squirrels, or kongs, or something, in her sleep (you can see the REM motion and the vestigial running twitches in the limbs).
So even if you expect Julia to live 16 years, as a small dog might, consider what proportion of those years would be spent recovering from inexplicable surgery imposed on her by those she trusts, and then how long the results would really hold up before some other physical problem set in.
Again, I tend to vote for: don't treat the dog just because the veterinarian can and finds it intellectually more interesting than the day-to-day practice and also wants to pay for his kids' college tuition or orthodontistry bills (and as with all such things, most with conflicting motives are somewhat unaware of them: they are more confident than they should be that what they are offering is of value, because they need to believe it to live with themselves).
ok, one more dog comment
A drug rep who comes into our office recently confessed to having already spent $10k on a puppy she and her husband adopted from the Humane Society at a local parade. It very quickly showed signs of serious physical problems, at first they just hip problems, but it progressed: at best it seems to be spinal stenosis or something. The dog doesn't seem to care that it has to drag its hind legs - but the fact that it can't control its urine is a problem.
There you have a real moral dilemma.
On the one hand they wish they'd never adopted the dog (done because they aren't ready for children), because it's now their moral dilemma, but they love him.
They don't want to put him through pain, but they have to limit him to tiled areas of their home, or outdoors (which isn't entirely safe since he's a small dog and there are a few large wildcats out there) and can't leave him with anybody if they want to go out of town, which as a practical matter they both have to do for work purposes. They know if they give him back to the pound, he'll probably end up dead. They don't know if the problem can be fixed even if they do spend a ridiculous amount of money. They don't entirely trust the veterinarian's economic motives or promises that he can help. Etc.
And now I will finally shut up about dogs.
Will you offer another riddle? I had fun with the last one (did not google, got most of the way there) and have been puzzling over others come across at work. Most recently a minor symptom in a patient with more significant problems: a nonrenal secondary hyperparathyroidism (Ca low normal, BUN & Cr fine, PTH 3x ULN) in a patient with significant connective tissue disorder and seemingly neurological issues, possibly vasculitis but the biopsies didn't really seem to confirm. UCSF is puzzled. Presented once again with chest pain, two prior absolutely clean caths but 10 & 18 years ago (and she's only in her 50s), no CAD risk factors (HDL in the high 150s (really), LDL about 80 untreated, BP on the low end, not diabetic, no FH). Echo, sure, b/c of the connective tissue disorder, MPI mostly as a rule out to avoid another cath and make the other physicians refocus on more likely noncardiac causes of the pain. All suspect the chest pain is GI. So: does the hyperparathyroidism suggest an autoimmune process (also attacking her gut) is behind everything? Obviously it's the least of her problems. The primary is ordering appropriate tests but also mostly referring her to UCSF b/c it's just a hard case to decipher. I worry in her case about the division of labor: rheumatology focuses only on rheumatology, neurology only on neurology, PMD is trying but knows she's in over her head thus the referrals. I guess the rheumatology dept is the one with the best chance of getting it but if there is some overarching interdisciplinary problem going on, it's getting missed because everybody's only looking at her through the lens of their own specialty.
Please delete if I didn't keep within bounds of confidentiality.
And by the way I talked with her Friday about some errors in her med records. Seemed like a basically happy lady with a happy family life. She had correctly identified some minor errors in a report, I reviewed and concluded she was right but there were a couple of things I needed to clarify. Her records will be duly corrected. A downside of EMR: once the garbage is in, it is very hard to get it out. As a woman with chronic medical problems, she knew this and acted fast.
What people will spend on pets can seem obscene! Unless it's your pet!
We're about to have our female Shiba's broken tooth pulled. We noticed the problem today (Sunday) not because she exhibited pain. No, it was her bad breath that caused my wife to try to remove plaque from her teeth. While holding her, I saw the broken tooth. Given we had the same tooth on the other side of her mouth removed about a year ago, I know it will not be a cheap visit to the vet, but it's something that just has to be done.
Everyone's situation is different. Many people wouldn't be able to afford what we'll spend on that broken tooth. It saddens me to think what some would do in that situation.
With that said, if you can afford $2000 and seeing Julia running on 4 legs would bring you joy, go for it.
As I see it, circulating that $2000 will do good in more ways than one, so why not?
On the other hand, if spending that $2000 would prevent you from doing other things that are important in your life, you shouldn't do it.
And, there's a possibility that you shouldn't own a dog.
OK, back to dogs (and cats): dental surgery is unpleasant but the recovery isn't as hard (I put a cat through dentistry once, which, obviously, required general anesthesia). I'm more a dog person than a cat person but I've never had the time necessary to keep a dog sane, much less happy; cats require less social interaction. (no cats or dogs for many years).
Odd example from some 25 years ago: when a friend forgot that he was supposed to provide food and water and clean the litter box for a cat for a week in Somerville MA but only remembered the day before its owners were due home, he panicked: we went to the apt, expecting the cat to be dead. No. It had figured out how to drink water from the toilet, and while a little skinny was basically ok. What was striking was that its first instinct was not to eat but to ingratiate: it opted to rub up against our legs and purr for what seemed a very long time before finally eating even though we'd already provided the food.
(I kind of took it as: apparently this is what I have to do to get humans to provide me food, so I will do it, but please don't ever do this to me again. But I'm confident that that's ascribing way too much cognitive activity to the cat. Still, what was it thinking? Probably more along the lines of thank goodness someone is finally back here to take care of me, I must take measures to make sure they do it again! Rub, rub, rub, purr, purr, purr, because that's worked in the past. And even that would be excessively intellectual.)
Again, I think this suggests, try to imagine what Julia would want if she could understand and let you know.
It's not just what you can afford but what you think Julia, and your family, can endure, and how much she will benefit from it. You know her better than the rest of us: trust your instincts.
I'd avoid the surgery:
1) She doesn't care about her limp or even particularly think about it.
2) It isn't much of a problem: She runs and plays without significant pain.
3) It's not going to become a greater problem: It's not degenerative, life-threatening or communicable.
4) All surgery is dangerous, a threat to both life and health.
Sure, we all hate to see our pets in less than tip-top shape, but it sounds like there's no compelling reason to have this surgery. Really, from Julia's perspective, how much is there to gain? A little quickness and agility? I'd want to give her more than that, given the pain and possibility of death that a surgery would bring.
We have had 3 labs and 6 of these surgeries. We have never paid $2000. All of the injuries seemed to be preceeded by some type of stressor such as running (which your dog likes to do and is now doing on one leg?). If you are completely convinced that this won't happen to the other leg also then you are probably fine. If, however, both of your dogs legs become affected and she must have surgery recovery will be very difficult when she can walk on neither.
My vote, if she isn't in pain leave it alone.
Almost three years ago my dog had to get her leg amputated due to cancer. While she recovered rather well, despite being 12 at the time, it was very hard to see my Lulu go through such an ordeal. Sure, the original pain was now gone, but the recovery was still heartwrenching. I actually blogged about the whole thing at www.ihearttripods.com.
I would keep an eye on little Julia. Unfortunately pets can't tell us their choices, and neither can they tell us about their pains. As a pet owner you have to keep a vigilant eye, looking for changes in activity level and so on. I hope she never has to get surgery and can just be the pimp with the limp that she is.
She's beautiful -of course she stole your heart. She reminds me of my cat Marley - adopted when she was rescued after being dumped from a car and only has one ear.
I agree with those who are saying to wait on any major treatment measures until she shows any sign of pain or it seems to affect her day-to-day dog functioning. For me, it's not the money but the question of whether the benefits outweigh both the risks and the burden of recovery when the animal may not understand the reason for it.
She is cute for an "unreal" dog :-) My second rescue pup also came with a broken leg. Upon further vet consult, we found she was in severe pain due to her injuries (no, she didn't tell us), and we did have the knee rebuilt followed by a long course of physical therapy. Today she is as good as she can be (she will always limp) and nearly pain-free, running at full speed as dogs should do. She is much more active than she was before, and it was clear even while she was still healing that she felt better than she had pre-op.
My vote is confirm with a specialist that she isn't in pain, and that the injury isn't causing her to walk in a way that will result in arthritis or other injuries down the line. If she will at all benefit from the surgery, then do it at a place that offers good post-op care and physical therapy, and you will be surprised at how quickly she heals and how forgiving she is when it is all over.
I do recommend physical therapy, as my sister had her dog's hip replaced at a facility that did not offer this, and it was a nightmare for the family trying to get the dog back in working order.
Of course if she isn't in pain and the limping isn't doing long-term damage, then don't worry about it! Though you could always consider adopting a real dog for her to hang out with.
Before I was a Nurse, I was a ski bum for 7 years. I worked and skied with a handful of people who had their ACLs repaired 2-3 times (with complete tear of the new one in between!) before they decided enough was enough. They skied at a very high level without an ACL.
If pooch is content and happy, why bother. Save your money and do some doggy PT! Woof! Time to play!