At 14-1/2 years old, we realize our time with Sweet Simba is most likely getting short. That realization only makes it all the more precious. With all this gal has been through, it's hard to believe she made it past 4, let alone 14. We sometimes jokingly call her our "Million Dollar Dog."
At age 4 she developed a horrible, horrible cough that took three vets and over a year to properly diagnose as kennel cough. Yes, they all tested her for it initially, but it always came back negative. When I got married and moved to Vermont with her, we eventually met Dr Randy Ross, who became Simba's savior with his compassion and never-give-up attitude. After a year of tests and trials (we even tried special food to see if it was an allergy), he decided to send her in for another chest x-ray and a really deep chest fluoroscopy (I believe that's what it was.) The vet who did the imaging said she had never seen such a bad case of kennel cough. We had to try three different antibiotics before finding one, which had to be given by injection, that would kill the little buggers. That antibiotic was so strong that we had to test her urine once a week until she was off it. Let's just say I must have made a pretty comic figure chasing after her first thing in the morning, pie plate in hand trying to catch some of that urine. I think she thought it was a game. Every time I would get close, she'd come out of her pee squat and run away. Ah, Simba, you are so sweet, but so naughty sometimes!
Anyway, we eventually got that taken care of, but it left her with a chronic cough that took us another year to finally conquer. We found the right meds and it let up quite a bit. Of course, by the time we got it under control, she was smart enough to have figured out, "If I cough, I get lots of attention," and it became another method of communication for her. *Cough* "Mommy, please feed me." *Cough* "Daddy, please let me out." *Cough* "I'm bored, please give me attention." Well, you get the idea.
Then, a couple of years ago, she blew out her left ACL and needed surgery. The vet warned us that usually when one side goes, the other is not far behind it. Sure enough, six months later, the other went. Surgery had her back chasing the tennis ball in no time, but left her with arthritis and gradually weakening back legs. When we brought Belle on board, she quickly learned she could bring Simba down by plowing into her back end.
As time went on, Simba's back legs got weaker and weaker. She could no longer get up from any surface that was not carpeted on her own steam. We put her on pain medication, which helped some, but you can see it is a major effort for her to do so, and frequently she still needs help. If she goes around a corner too fast, down she goes. She has such an air of grace and dignity about the whole thing, an acceptance of what is. "Oh... imagine that. Well, I'm here now. I might as well take a bit of a rest." I think a lot of us could learn a lot from her. Life isn't always easy. It's not always what you want. But you might as well take what it gives you and find a way to be happy with it.
About a year ago, she began the slide into what I thought was old-age dementia. It was what prompted me to begin this blog. Recently, she began to stumble and have tremors. The diagnosis was Addison's disease. Very expensive to treat, but our vet was willing to work with us and we decided she would still have a good quality of life if the medications worked, so we did it. It only took two days to see a difference, and by a week she was about as close to her old self as I think she will ever be again. The tremors, while still present, were not as often or as severe. And, surprise of surprise - her "crazy barking" and dementia-like symptoms disappeared. Oh, she's still a stubborn old lady whose hearing and eyesight are beginning to fade, but she is back with us. Simba's World has gently melded back into our world.
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