Jim Dog

Dumb Dog.

Well he's not, really. Jim is quite smart actually, but this past week, Mark and I were very much convinced he was going to die. For two days he stopped doing anything and everything. No food, no walks, no licks. Nothing. Just laid on his bed, still as a statue unless we forced him to get up for a pee (refused) which just about did him in. It was very sudden too, so of course we thought the worst: metastatic cancer; heart disease; kidney failure. 

On day number three I all but carried him to the vet and tried to explain his symptoms without feeling like a paranoid pet person: his lack of appetite, weakness, lethargy. I asked about his random skin conditions feeling particularly timid and vain: were they related to his illness? Or were they just old man skin growths? For a minute, my vet considered the grape sized groin bulge to be an extra testicle before changing his mind and diagnosing it as a fat deposit. But no, he said laughing, his skin was aging like an "idoso" (old man) and not to worry.

A stat blood test showed that Jim had low platelets, vital to clotting blood: his number read 54, where a normal range sits between 200,000-500,000 platelets per microliter of blood. The vet said this indicated he'd been exposed to some sort of tick disease, likely from a romp on the beach where apparently ticks and other blood suckers are rampant. I never walk him on the beach due to the fact that he hates baths and I hate giving them. Since there is no bath tub in our apartment, I have to get in the shower with the dog and bully him into the spray. Trying to rinse his belly and undercarriage is always slow and awkward. Plus I always feel weird about taking a shower with my dog. Should I put on a swimsuit or get naked? Should I suck it up and buy him a tub? Regardless of what I wear or do, I end up with a horribly soaked bathroom, smelling like wet dog, and bloated with histamine. Plus the dog is only 1/2 clean and still coated in suds.

So I pay the dog parlor to do it every 4 months. When I do, I let Jim free on the beach to roll in the sand before he goes. Not two weeks ago we repeated this routine which may have been when he got exposed. (Never mind that in early May he'd received a clean bill of health with annual vet grade anti-parasite medications, blood work and restock of topical medicine.)

Two hours, two negative SNAP 4Dx tests (this rapid diagnostic test looks for heart worm and 3 common tick infections. The package needs to defrost for 30 minutes and the first one was contaminated by the doctor's sleeve) and two antibiotic injections later, we were sent home with more meds, supplements, and directions to come back with full report in 2 days. As I write this, 48 hours have passed and Jim is nearly back to his old self. What a relief, and I'm so glad it was a quick fix. Now we just have to get him ready to fly to our next post by spending hundreds of dollars on a bigger dog kennel and a few thousand more to get him to Namibia. No big deal, right? Ah, pets.

Word to the wise: after hours of unfruitful research, visits, and phone calls to vets, pet stores, and pet hotels, we learned that Recife does not have IATA approved dog kennels available. Due to different airlines having different rules, and complicated Brazilian pet export obligations, we learned the kennel that got Jim here is not a sufficient size to get him out. Our new kennel will come from Sao Paolo and we are paying a pretty penny to get it. What one could buy for 120 USD on Amazon, will be about 350 USD in Brazil but it's also too big to arrive by mail. All the same if you are posted to Brazil and there's the possibility you need do a size upgrade, consider this dilemma when transporting your pet. Maybe you could bribe a family member to bring one on their visit, or promise a colleague a fancy bottle of gin or something? 

Jim, the 60 pound lanky beast.