Heart Worm Treatment

The Company You Keep

/ Ann Coleman / 102 Comments

No doubt about it, 2020 hasn’t exactly turned out to be a banner year.  Aside from the birth of our new granddaughter (which was a wonderful gift), it has mostly been a series of hardships that had to be both accepted and endured.  From learning that our dog tested positive for heart worm in February, to the arrival of the Covid virus in Spring and the subsequent lock-downs which resulted in the cancellation of every single event and gathering we had been looking forward to, to the worry of our granddaughter’s premature birth, followed closely by my husband’s cancer diagnosis, I feel as if I’ve hardly had a chance to draw a breath, much less process it all.

But like everyone else whose world has been turn upside down in the past few months, I don’t really have a choice other than to do my best to cope with this new reality.  And so I do what I can to adapt and learn new coping strategies.  It helps to do the small things that cheer me up, like buying fresh flowers for our house or making sure I always have a stack of new books to read when I can find the time.  I’ve learned the importance of self-care, and am getting much better at saying “no” to obligations that  threaten to overwhelm me.  If nothing else, I’ve  come to accept my limitations, and that’s a good thing.

I’ve also discovered the importance of discernment.  There are days when I take a break from the news, knowing that all the craziness and conflict will still be there when I actually feel strong enough to hear it.  I hit the “unfollow” button on Facebook in order to keep my newsfeed free from the petty bickering and tribal chest-thumping that many feel obligated to post on a daily basis.  Sometimes I let my phone go directly to voice mail, particularly when it rings just as I am sitting down to a hot meal or settling into a comfortable chair with a good book.   It took a while, but I’ve finally learned not to feel guilty about that.

More importantly, I’ve learned to be a bit more particular about the people I talk to on a regular basis.  I’ve always believed in accepting others for exactly who they are, and that is still the case.  But now that I find myself living almost constantly on the fine line between coping and feeling completely overwhelmed, I realize that I need to spend most of my time only with those who have the ability to cheer me up and keep me hopeful. One good thing about hard times is that you discover some of the people you know are really, really, good at being supportive.  They’re the ones who listen to you without judgement, who assure you that things really will get better, and who know how to make you laugh when all you thought you could do was cry.

IMG_6698I still love all my friends and family, and value my relationship with each and every one of them.  But right now, in this particular situation, I’m gravitating toward those who are helping me cope.  And that’s okay, I think.  If nothing else, they’re showing me exactly what I need to do when it’s my turn to “pay it forward” and help someone else who is in need.  Because the one thing I know about dealing with hardships is that it’s so much easier when you don’t have to face them alone.

A Dog’s Life

/ Ann Coleman / 89 Comments

1V5A5533Sometimes it’s not easy being a dog.  Don’t get me wrong:  I love my family.  I really do.  And after living for months in an animal shelter, I’m really grateful to be in a house with my own dog bed, dog toys, and best of all, my own supper dish.  My human parents treat me very well most of the time.  They take me for walks, play with me, and give me lots of attention.  Plus, I’ve got them trained to be very generous with the dog treats.

But there are still times when it’s hard to be a dog living in a house that is run by humans.  Because sometimes humans say and do things that don’t make any sense at all.

For instance, our house has two beds, three couches, and five upholstered chairs.  Every single piece of that furniture is absolutely perfect for curling up and sleeping on.  I know, because I’ve done it.  They’re incredibly soft and comfortable, and obviously designed for a good nap.  But what happens whenever Mom or Dad finds me sleeping on them?  I get told to get down, that’s what.  And not too nicely, either.  Sometimes they even call me a bad dog.

Thunderstorms are another example.  Whenever I hear the rumble of thunder, or even sense the change in atmosphere that tells me a storm is coming, I do the only sensible thing and hide.  Everyone knows that when the end of the world is so obviously imminent, your only chance is to find a safe spot to ride it out.  But do my parents join me?  Nope.  They just go on about their business, acting as if nothing is wrong.  Sometimes (and I swear I’m not making this up), they even put on their raincoats and leave the house.  I can hear them driving off, leaving me all alone to face the danger.

But the weirdest stuff started a couple of months ago, when the vet told my Mom that I had tested positive for heart worm.  I didn’t think it was such a big deal, since worms are rather common in the dog world, but my parents freaked out.  No more walks for me, or games of fetch.  Dad even fenced off most of the yard so I didn’t have much room to run around.  Worst of all, they switched me to a low-calorie dog food.  It doesn’t taste nearly as good as my regular food, but I had to eat it anyway.

They made me go to the vet twice to get some injections, and I can tell you that dogs don’t like to get shots any more than people do.  The second time I even had to spend the night at the vet’s office.  Whatever was in that shot made me feel sore and tired for a long time, but gradually I began to feel better.  Still, I wondered if I’d ever get my normal life back.

Thankfully, my vet has decided that the heart worms are gone, and my parents have calmed down.  Dad even took down that ugly temporary fence, so now I can go behind the garage and hunt for varmits.  The rabbits, squirrels and chipmunks have gotten really bold during the time I’ve been on restrictions, but I’ll soon put an end to that.

So, I guess there’s hope for my parents after all.  If they can figure out that dogs are supposed to be able to go for walks and play in the back yard, they might figure out the other stuff too.  Maybe they’ll even join me under the chair the next time there’s a thunderstorm.  And if we don’t all fit under there, I’ve got some diet dog food I’d gladly share….

Love, Finn

Soldier On

/ Ann Coleman / 99 Comments

When I had a molar pulled a few months ago, I understood that I’d be on a soft-food diet until I got my stitches out ten days after the extraction.  Ten days seemed like an awfully long time to go without any food that crunched, especially since so many of my favorite foods fall into that category.  Still, I got through it, and was really looking forward to a return to normal eating the day the stitches were removed.

But it turned out that I was wrong about that ten-day thing.  Because the morning I had my stitches removed, the dentist casually informed me that my soft food diet needed to continue for another ten days, until he removed the membrane that was protecting the new bone graft he put in my jaw.  Even worse, I’d be out of town the week I was supposed to come in for the procedure, so I’d actually be on soft foods for at least another two weeks.  So much for the celebratory dinner of all things crunchy, especially nachos, I’d planned for that night.

I can’t say that I enjoyed my three-plus weeks on a soft-food diet, but I did get used to it.  What had seemed like a horrible inconvenience soon became a minor annoyance, and I learned to get creative with my food.  (I found that I actually could eat nachos, as long as I stuck to the really soggy chips at the bottom of the pile.)  My most recent dental procedure has me on another ten days of soft foods, and this time it honestly feels like no big deal at all.  It’s amazing what we can get used to when we have no choice.

Last week our dog, Finn, tested positive for heart worms at his annual check up, and he’s already begun his four-month treatment program.  He’ll be on antibiotics for four weeks, and then four weeks after that he’ll get the first of three injections that will actually kill the worms that have taken up residence in his heart.  It will take almost four months to complete his treatment, and during that time we’re supposed to keep him calm and quiet.  Because if he gets too excited a chunk of worms could break off and cause a nasty, and most likely fatal, reaction.

fullsizeoutput_5988It’s going to be a real challenge to try to keep a two-year old terrier calm and quiet for four months, especially when he’s feeling just fine, which he will be except for the days immediately following the injections.  We’re talking about a dog we call “Bubbles” because of his bubbly personality, and who loves to spend his days running full speed around the yard and who goes berserk every time he sees his leash or he thinks it’s dinner-time.

The prospect seems daunting now, but all we can do is take it one day at a time.  We’re already realizing that some of the trips we had planned for this Spring and Summer might not happen, and we’ll make whatever other adjustments are needed to make sure we take the best possible care of our dog.  This wasn’t what any of us wanted, but it’s what we got.  Yet we’ll get used to it, and we’ll get through it.  Because as everyone who has ever dealt with a long-term issue, no matter how big or how small it may be, knows….sometimes we just have to “soldier on.”