We took Ty to the vet last week after he started limping really badly on the leg he had his surgery on before we got him, back in March. He had blown his cruciate ligament in his left rear leg and needed reconstruction, and after about 2 months of hobbling around was back to normal for weeks! But then he started really favoring his leg badly and couldn’t get onto the bed or couch without our help, so we knew something was wrong.
After being poked and prodded at for what seemed like an eternity, Ty was whisked away to x-ray while I waited nervously in the exam room. Then they brought him back and we waited nervously together. Then the doctor came in and confessed that she can’t really say what the problem is, but there’s some definitely inflammation, and if it doesn’t get better in 2-3 weeks we need to consult an orthopedic surgeon. Gulp. He might need to undergo another surgery.
In the hopes of avoiding that, his doctor prescribed Rimadyl, a brand of doggie NSAID (nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug) carprofen, which is comparable to asprin. He’s on a 2-week regimen of one and a half tablets a day accompanied by limited physical activity, which we hope will reduce the inflammation and get him back to full mobility with no pain (or surgery!). After a few days on the drug, he seemed to be feeling a little better.
But then I got home on Sunday night to a house that smelled like poo. And I don’t mean, “Wow, I can smell the litterbox from here,” but more like, “Wow, did someone come in and smear a sheetrock pail of dog feces all over my walls?” Of course I assumed it was crap-in-the-house-daily Pickles, but imagine my surprise when I found her sitting pretty in a clean crate next to Ty, who was huddled in the only poo-free corner of his gigantic poo-filled crate.
The term “explosive diarrhea” does not do it justice. Nor does the term “disgusting” even begin to describe the clean-up process, which took close to an hour, during which time Ty also vomited twice (fortunately this time on the linoleum in the mudroom area).
We figured it stemmed from a dietary change since we’d run out of his food for breakfast that morning and supplemented with Pickles’ food until dinnertime, when we had more, but Jesse just called me to let me know that he came home from a busy day at work to find the crate once again full of poo, with Ty looking more ashamed of himself than ever. (The poor thing has never had an accident in the house before this, and he seems to feel quite guilty about it.)
I called the vet and she told me to take him off the Rimadyl and put him on a bland diet for a few days to settle his tummy. If he’s still sick in 24 hours, we have to take him back in. My poor gimpy, poopy, pukey baby…
Awww poor bebe :( I’ve got a house full of critters with two feeling under the weather. I feel your pain.