Nigel’s Delicate System
The vet’s verdict is stress-induced colitis; she pumped a significant quantity of subcutaneous fluids into Nigel, which creates an alarming-looking lump on his chest but made him feel so much better. (He’d been lethargic all morning, and after they tried to take a stool sample, his intestines started spasming again, and he was miserable. The poor guy was shaking so hard that the exam table started rocking, and he was actually moaning, which I’ve never heard before.)
May I just say that I hate it when they take him in the back room? I always freak out, but this time I started crying even before they took him, while the vet was still there. I am a wuss, I know. On the other hand, I calmed down a lot when I heard him start barking after a while: it was definitely his, “Hey, you’ve left me behind, what’s up with that?” bark, a sound of vague irritation and not a sound of stress or pain. It sounded just like his bark when I leave at an unexpected time and do not provide enough of a bribe to distract him, and I knew that if he was complaining about being put in an exam-room crate and left alone, then he was certainly feeling somewhat better, and hadn’t had a heart attack or seizure or other health crisis they weren’t telling me about yet.
We’ve now got an antibiotic, and probiotic powder to mix into his food (is it not contradictory to administer both of these simultaneously?), and special food for sensitive stomachs. (Yes, this means no more V-Dog, unfortunately, because it only comes in regular. Even after the cans of prescription EN food run out, he’ll need a special diet formulated for sensitive stomachs.)
Obviously, I will do whatever I need to do to keep Nigel healthy and happy, even if it requires feeding him meat. Let me just say, however, that canned meat-based dog food is almost certainly one of the top 100 most disgusting, foul-smelling items in the known universe, and that if he must continue to eat wet food, I’m going to have to invest in some nose plugs so I don’t gag every time I feed him. He seems to like it, but, then, I’ve seen some of the things he’s tried to eat. . . .
There’s also quite a bit of guilt over supporting the slaughterhouse industry with my dog’s food, and the possibility that the special diet may have been developed not using home tests in which humans volunteer (and supervise) their dogs but in laboratory tests, quite probably on beagles no different from Nigel, with probable “sacrifice” when the tests were over. (It happens.) The consumer site for the samples I was given provides no information about whether the product was developed humanely, and the vet-targeted site is for registered users only, so I can’t find out much directly from the source. I did find this on one site selling prescription diets, though:
To find the answers, scientists at our research and development laboratory explore the problems in ways that may include genetic, molecular, cellular and clinical factors. Diets are then developed and tested at our Pet Care Center, the world’s oldest and largest research facility dedicated to developing pet foods, to be sure the diets provide complete nutrition in a great tasting diet. Clinical evaluations or other research are completed to confirm suitability for the intended use.
A little Googling suggests that both Purina, which made the canned samples, and Hills Science Diet, which makes the delicate-system food recommended for long-term use, are or have been doing laboratory tests that did not have happy endings for their test subjects. I know there’s virtually no way to avoid all animal testing, particularly when one has health problems (after all, I know every time that I take one of the pills the ER prescribed for me, it was produced after extensive animal testing, including on dogs; it makes me sick to think of it, but I don’t know what else to do at this point). I am not about to endanger my dog, but I’m going to see if I can find some special gastroenteric diet that at least was developed using home tests on dogs volunteered by their families, and effectiveness verified through regular vet checkups (you know, the way the diets would be expected to perform in the real world?).
Angst aside, the vet wants to do an ultrasound next week: his heart looks fine-ish, considering his murmur, but they want to double-check it, and also make sure that the distended portion of his stomach was from colitis irritation and not a growth.
The stress makes me worry quite a bit about boarding him in a couple of weeks, when I go to the winter meeting in New York, but at least he’ll be with his vet, and they’ll know what signs to watch for, and he’ll be right there with the vets in case of emergency.
(Sorry for the length. I just freak out when Nigel’s ill. At least he’s eaten something, gross and inhumanely produced as it may be, and he’s had a good drink of water.)
