When you have a dog with SLO, you expect that nails will break. For Cooper, mostly a nail splits and he chews it off. It’s uncomfortable for a couple of days, but he gets the nail off, the quick underneath dries out, and we go on.
Last night though, when we got Cooper home from the boarding kennel, we noticed he was limping, holding his left front foot in the air. Once we got him to let us look at his feet, we could see that he had two split nails, one on the left front foot and the other on the right. And these were both bad splits, up to and under the cuticle.
These were the kind of split that, had he tried to take it off himself, he could easily have ripped the cuticles, inviting infection and more pain. So off to the vet we went.
They tranquilized him and removed the broken nails. Nasty, painful, and expensive. And they told us that next time this happens (and we know that there will be a next time), they will have to anesthetize him. The tranquilizer doesn’t kill pain; it just makes him immobile enough to allow the vet to remove the nails.
No matter what we do, Cooper’s nails will break. It doesn’t matter if we keep him quiet in the house or allow him to run in the field — the nails will break. In fact, by the time we see the splits, the nails have already broken at the nail bed.
The disease makes me so angry, and there is no one and nothing to be angry at. It makes me cry. And it has taught me in yet one more way that heartache is real, not just a metaphor.
We’ve been consulting a vet with expertise in acupuncture and Chinese medicine. It’s too soon to tell if the needles and herbs are helping his nails. We can see that it’s helping his digestion, and that may be, we hope, a path into helping his nails.
But here’s the thing. There was Cooper, limping, both front feet bandaged, and a little woozy from the tranquilizer. And what did he do? He came over to me, and dropped a tennis ball at my feet. “Throw the ball” is what that means. “I want to retrieve.”
This is one of the most endearing traits of our dogs – they don’t care about labels, or prognoses, or heartache. They live in the moment, and they teach us that while heartache is sometimes present, in the end all that matters is that they are happy and that they can make us happy, too.
Patrice,
I completely understand what you’re going through. I’ve had a heartbreak dog due to a chronic medical condition, and now have a second one–black and white spring spaniel males seem to be my downfall! The second one, after 1 1 /2 years of struggling with a mysterious auto-immune condition, seems to be heading towards a happy ending.
What I want to say is this: these kinds of dogs, like Cooper and my two springers, Yeats and now Reardon, break our hearts. But through living with them, and tending to them, they teach us how to live through heartache and still love. They teach us that we can continue to love no matter what, and when we let go of all the wonderful dreams we had for them that are no longer possible, new wonderful dreams of our lives together become real.
They also teach us that persistence, hope and striving for answers is a crucial journey of the heart–maybe one we’re meant to go on, for whatever reason. Never give up hoping and striving to find answers for Cooper. One day you’ll be the expert on SLO, and the vets will be looking to you!
Sorry if this got too maudlin. It’s just something I’ve felt strongly for some time. I certainly want to continue hearing of Cooper’s progress.
Reardon’s magical recovery has come through herbal treatments and Chinese theory of yin and yang foods. I hope to hear that you find results through your recent efforts with alternative treatments. Many good thoughts sent your way,
Laura
[…] our return, as you may have read in previous blog entries, he blew out a couple toe nails. With the assistance of the vet, the nails were completely removed to prevent further damage while […]
I’m in a state of sadness and gladness because of my scotties. Bairie because he has SLO and I know it”s painful and will continue to be.
My 14 year old Bonnie has a large hard tumor in right shoulder. It’s malignant and it can’t be fixed. I have no idea when I will have to make the decision to let her go, but with pain pills she seems to think there is nothing wrong with her except that she walks funny. I’ve seen lots of three-legged dogs on Animal Planet and they seem to learn how to live with three legs, but I believe it is easier for a dog that has long legs. Short Scottie legs don’t work that way–she has a very wobbly gait, but she still chases the neighborhood cats when they come into our yard, and she is fast! She is still bossy about it being feeding time, and when it is time for all of us to go to bed, and she loves walks even though she tires easily. I am so happy that she is not in great pain and that I can enjoy her for a while longer. A couple of years ago I had to decide when to let my Greta go. She was diagnosed with liver cancer and she lived about a week after her diagnosis. That was so hard.