Senior Pup

Rushing the Turnstyle (11/24/2008)

Fips has been astonishingly frisky of late, although, like any flesh and bone creature, he has his moods. Generally, he tends to be pokey and stiff in the mornings and perky at nights. But the temperature has a lot to do with it, and his demonstrations of agility vary.

At the same time, Fips has always had a frumpy gait and a still frumpier look. Even when he was a barely year-old puppy, people would look down and say, “How old is he?” I’ve gotten used to Fips’ ancient air, even if -- in his own way -- he’s actually quite curious and active.

Still, despite his friskiness, I’ve noticed a certain “sloppiness” in his left haunchy. It works great propelling him forward, but he’s tended to stumble taking a step back or on an uneven surface. I’ve been eyeing it for the past two or three weeks.

Then, earlier this week, it appeared to get worse, although he demonstrated no pain when probed in the hip or lower back and would tense his leg quite well and naturally when stretching after a snooze. To further confuse things, he suddenly became very sensitive to being touched around the shoulder, and would hunch from time to time, which would then cause him to stumble over his left rear leg.

I began to worry and panic.

After making an appointment to see Dr. Smith on Friday, I called UC Davis, talked the matter up with a very helpful telephone assistant and then left a message for one of the neurologists to call me back. Several hours later I got a call from a Dr. Knipe.

We talked for about 10 minutes. I gave her a synopsis of Fips & Symptoms -- his age, diet, meds, behavior. Of course, she could not proffer a diagnosis over the phone, and she suggested keeping the appointment with Smith and perhaps getting an x-ray. Because of his ability to run and jump, it did not seem to be a case of arthritis; but because he wasn’t dragging his leg or being incontinent, it did not sound neurological either. Knipe said that generally if a dachshund hasn’t had a slipped or frozen disk by this age, the chances are they’re not going to get one. That was nice to hear.

Just as nice was the fact that Dr Knipe called me back and spent some time talking to someone who wasn’t a paying patient. I had heard several times that the staff at UC Davis was friendly, and that was my experience. Such a relief from the usual put-upon and chastising “... if you want to talk to the doctor you’ll have to make an appointment.”

So...Friday morning, I loaded up the doggies into the Cruiseliner and headed over the mountain and down to Moraga. For the most part, Fips stayed curled up in his “I am dead” mode on the seat, while Rosco sat up in the doggie lounger and stared out the side window. Eventually Rosco came half way down, lying on a folded blanket on the console between the seats.

It’s such a tiresome trip out of here. First the serpentine mountain road; then the two lane highway down to Napa with fools turning onto or off the road without warning, and lastly the insanity of the mega freeway through Concord and Walnut Creek. It’s hard to believe that when I first came here, Walnut Creek was just that. Now it’s a hideous concrete wasteland of gargantuan malls and ponderous financial service sector office blocs. But Moraga, once orchards nestled between rolling hills, remains a pleasant upper middle class enclave that at times looks surprisingly a lot like Connecticut.

We pulled into Smith’s clinic on Country Club Drive, with fifteen minutes to spare. No sooner had I turned off the engine than Fips -- Lazarus like -- awoke from the dead and couldn’t wait to jump out. “Wait-a-mini.... Wait-a-mini” I said as I collected myself.

Just as I lifted the doggies out of the Cruiseliner, Smith drove in from lunch. I told him to take a look as Fips trotted over to some hedges. “He looks fine,” Smith said, “though he favors the right leg a little.” I told him to keep the gait in mind and that I’d been in as soon as I gave the dogs a quick walk-about. By now the dogs were very impatient and the two bruder hunds chased over and rolled around in Smith’s ground ivy before heading up the street.

Back in the examining room, I got my iBook ready to show clips of Fips running the other week. After looking and laughing at the doggie movie show, Smith lifted Fips up onto the table and began his poking and prodding. Fips started a light tremble. “It’s OK, Fipsie...”

I looked at Smith and said, “You know, when you tell him ‘it’s ok’ he knows it’s not”. Smith laughed. Language is so relative.

Smith pulled the leg. It pulled back. He pushed the leg, it pushed back. He lifted one leg and pulled, the other leg hopped along. He twisted, a leg, the other leg balanced back. After more of this sort of thing, Smith concluded that it was nothing neurological. He did not even think an x-ray was necessary, although we could take one for future comparison purposes, if I wanted. (At Country Club prices, I didn’t.)

But Fips’ neck and ears in particular were ultra sensitive and after further checking, Smith said that he Fips had a bad case of the itchies all over and particularly in his ears, which had a minor skin infection.

What a relief! What a relief! for Rosco too, who had been eyeing up from below with intense attention and uneasy anticipation.

So for now, it’s benadryl and medicated shampooing. Fips is going to love that. Just like he loved it 14 years ago when he got an attack of the itchies and many "douchies" (doggie german for 'bath') with expensive creamy shampoos.

Otherwise, Fips checked out fairly well. According to Smith, the stumbles are normal with old age. He said, it’s not fully understood, but these symptoms seem to be neurological “short circuits” or signal delays. As for the episodic shakes, that too is normal with age and seems to be a kind of palsy.

Fips still has a slight heart murmur, but no worse than in June. Unlike June, though, he is starting to develop a cataract in one of his eyes. Smith says that for now it is not affecting his vision. I pointed out that Fips’ incisors were worn down to the gums, and Smith said just to check the gums for possible swelling & infection. Around Spring, he should probably have his teeth cleaned again.

All things considered, Friday the Twelfth brought good news.

Like any flesh and bone creature, Fips will die. I know it will come sooner rather than later; and I hope that when it does come, it does so stealthily, like a thief in the night. But for now I am not only relieved but proud -- immensely proud of little Frumpy Fips, who has been “old” since he was a puppy and remains a puppy, albeit a senior one, to this day.



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