While the no-human-kids thing may play some factor in the huge amount of space that Thrall has claimed of our hearts, this pup’s personality plays a much bigger factor. Even when we had other critters in the house, Thrall singled himself out as our only fur baby. He is my little man, the apple of my eye.
Thrall is a Zuchon or Shichon (whichever you wanna use) – a Bichon Frisé and Shih Tzu mix. He was not intended and I was not the most excited person to see the hubs walk towards the door with the little fur ball in his hands. But that didn’t last long. How could I resist that face? Especially after Bob bought him a sweater. And then he became a momma’s boy.
Fast forward three years later to Memorial Day weekend. It’s Saturday, and a friend comes over. Thrall is, as always, excited to see her. Then he has a seizure. And I tried not to freak out, but then he had another. And then another before we were able to get in the car to get to the emergency vet. He also had dark urine – which ended up being a very important bit of info and the reason he didn’t get the wrong medication that evening.
So we brought Thrall home from the emergency vet and gave him his meds and tried to keep his excitement level down, loved on him through the seizures, and kept him from asphyxiating on his vomit. And checked his gums time and again, trying to decide if they were too pale and we needed to go back to the emergency room. It was a truly horrible weekend and Thrall continued to get weaker and weaker.
Finally, Tuesday got here. We had an appointment for nine-something in the morning and Bob was waiting to take him in, but then Thrall threw up again and could not stand. So he took him in early. The blood test told us why he couldn’t stand – he only had 10% of his red blood cells.
That week was pretty horrible with blood transfusions, hopes, and fears. After running every test known to man, it was determined that Thrall had developed immune mediated hemolytic anemia (in the simplest terms, his white blood cells decided to attack his red blood cells), with absolutely no hint of what caused it. But by Saturday, Dr. Gabbard was able to get him stable enough to come home.
Months of regularly scheduled blood tests and no taking him anywhere or around anyone he hadn’t encountered before. Finally, in August, we got test results that meant we didn’t need to come back for another six months – and cleared to go out and have fun doing things like camping and hiking again.
So that is what I call the Big Bad.
Since then, the little man has developed pancreatitis (apparently, foo foo dogs cannot eat vegetables – and should definitely not sneak large batches of chili) and, probably related, bladder stones. And while these were terrible and have altered our lives yet again, they aren’t the Big Bad.
Then, this weekend, Thrall had some really dark urine (but only once). We thought he might have developed another bladder stone (despite the fancy dog food) and were planning on taking him to the vet on Monday. So I made an appointment with the vet who fills in for Dr. Gabbard every other Monday. Then Thrall had a seizure. I took him in (early) and got his now-standard blood work done. Red blood cells drastically lower and white blood cells drastically higher than either were in January when he had the stones removed. Got some injections and we were waiting to hear from Dr. Gabbard this morning when he had another seizure. So now he has some serious meds and my role is to medicate, love, and observe.
He has had another two seizures tonight, and while I’m hoping that the meds help and the seizures stop, I will definitely be calling Dr. Gabbard again first thing in the morning.
I’m so thankful for Dr. Gabbard, that it’s not the weekend, and the understanding and love pouring out from my clients, friends, and family who understand what I mean when I say that Thrall is my little man. All the love, prayers, good mojo, and offers to help if needed are all deeply appreciated.
Now to just make it through the night.
For those wanting updates, they’ll be posted on Thrall’s Facebook page.
Poor little fella, he’s lucky to have a mommy like you.
Thank you so much, Amber. <3
Poor baby. We went through all the sleepless nights, expensive tests and medicine and special food with my George.