A few weeks ago Maggie, aka Princess Margaret, came back after a play session with a tiny limp. Well, damn, I thought, I hope this isn’t serious. Her limp disappeared the next day, and play sessions with Skip and her favorite toy were back on the agenda after one more day of “just to be sure.” Maggie seemed thrilled to play, until I handed her a toy (she’s “It” in the chase game), and she ran for a few seconds and then dropped the toy to go pee. Okay, guess she really needed to urinate? And maybe she wasn’t limping, but perhaps what was injured still hurt? But she seemed okay the next two days, although a little quieter at night, so I asked her to jump up into the crate to go work sheep with Skip at another farm on what would have been 5 days after he little limp.
She wouldn’t jump in. She looked at the crate, and looked back at me. She’s usually crazy keen to work sheep, but she is twelve years old, past the age that many working dogs want to work. Perhaps she does still have some kind of soft tissue injury that hasn’t healed completely? Or, was this was about her age as a “geriatric” dog. Her hearing is clearly degrading; perhaps working sheep is stressful because she can’t always understand what I am trying to convey? Or, maybe, as an older dog, perhaps she just doesn’t want to work that hard anymore? And, of course she is quieter at night, because she’s twelve. Jim and I are quieter at night now too. (Cue Netflix and PBS.)
I respected Maggie’s communication and put her back in the house. But, as I drove away I couldn’t stop thinking about her behavior. Granted, she’s been less playful in the evening than before–not surprising given her age, but . . . hadn’t she had on a “sad dog” face the last few evenings? And, as I thought about it, why did she lie on the wood floor last night instead of cozying with us on the couch? By the time I was on my way home after working Skip–you know where this is going–the puzzle pieces fit together. It was Friday afternoon, and I became obsessed with getting her into one of my vet clinics before they closed. Bless them, they got her in that afternoon.
Good thing. Maggie had/has Anaplasmosis, one of the many Rickettsial diseases, that can cause no symptoms at all, or very serious ones, including, eventually, organ failure and death. (Lyme is caused by a different type of bacteria, but they are both conveyed through tick bites and have similar symptoms.) She had a fever, (which explains lying on a wood floor versus the couch), and a “strong positive” test result. After 2 doses of Doxy, she became her old but still playful self. Whew. If I hadn’t gotten her on antibiotics she could’ve gotten much sicker, especially given her kidney disease.
I bring this up because I think it can be tricky to figure out if an older dog has changed their behavior because they are elderly, or because they are ill. I well know the symptoms of tick-borne diseases, but because Maggie is twelve, and is clearly losing her hearing, it seemed reasonable that she’s be less playful at night, and perhaps decide to take a pass on working sheep one day. Honestly, it was thinking about her face the night before that got my head out of “she’s twelve, her hearing is going, does she have a soft tissue injury?” Maggie has the facial flexibility of Jim Carry, and as I thought about it, her face looked wrong–a bit pinched, her eyebrows squinched. Sad Maggie.
In hindsight, it’s easy to think about a tick-borne disease, especially given that we are in an area that exploded with ticks last year. I write about this, because, until her symptoms began to add up, it was easy to imagine that her behavior was due to her age. Mild injuries with hard working dogs who also play hard are common. Rest and monitor, right? Not wanting to jump up into the car? Injury not yet healed reasonable explanation, and/or losing interest in working sheep because of her age?
I’ve run into this before, and I’m hoping that the many veterinarians who read these posts will jump in here, because sorting out the mystery of “age versus illness” can be tricky stuff, at least for us mortals. Of course, we all know the obvious signs of illness–vomiting or diarrhea that doesn’t resolve, lethargy, etc. Dr. Google has a gazillion lists, including loss of appetite, increased urination or defecation, pale gums, and significant changes in weight. But the one I want to focus on, is “changes in personality.”
Or, as I would describe it, changes in behavior (says the person who is so very much NOT a veterinarian but is trained as a behaviorist). Maggie’s limp, of course concerned me, and I did the obvious–rest and monitor. But it was her behavior that got me calling the vet–not wanting to go do something she’s been excited about the week before, her “sad dog face,” and her lying down in an area she never uses.
I found that specific change in behavior, lying down in a different place, to be particularly important. It has correlated with illness in two other dogs I’ve owned. My BC Mist was almost thirteen when she began sleeping in places she’d never slept in before. She also ate her dinner a bit gingerly, but she’d just had her teeth cleaned and I thought perhaps her gums were a little sore. I dropped her off at the vet clinic on a Thursday, thinking I should have her checked out but that it was no doubt a minor issue. It wasn’t. She had hermangiosarcoma, and died four days later. I forget the details with the other dog, I think it was Pippy Tay, but again, it was her choosing to lie down in areas where she never, ever did before.
This is all to say that the value of knowing your dog and his/her habits is invaluable. “Personality changes,” as often listed by veterinarians, is a great start, (especially atypical aggression, so often pain related). But what might look like minor changes in behavior can also be signs of illness. I don’t want people to swamp their vet clinics, heaven knows they are busy enough, but . . . if any of my dogs start sleeping in a new place (unless the weather has changed markedly), I’m at least calling the clinic. I’m hoping here that many of you will add to the conversation–what other behavioral changes have you seen in your dogs that got you wondering if your dog was ill. What do veterinarians hear from their clients about changes in behavior that brought them to the clinic? Or they noticed in their own dogs (or cats or horses . . .). I think the village could be invaluable here; people read these blogs years after they are posted; I routinely get comments from people thanking me and the village years later after we wrote for helping them through something. Jump in!
MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Well, it’s been an interesting day. Last night I took the dogs out to pee before bed and heard a loud crash. A very, very loud crash. I knew just what it was–we live at the bottom of a steep, curvy hill, and far too often someone takes the curve too fast and hits the guard rail. I ran into the house, yelling to Jim that there’d been an accident and we had to go to help. I could tell by the sound of it that it was serious. At first all we could see were a few small metal items in the road, and no smashed guard rail. So, did they smash into the guard rail and drive away? But the sound of the crash was dramatic, so we parked where we could safely, walked back with our torch-like flashlight and looked around. That is when my flashlight found a truck, 40 feet down in a gully, lying on its roof, smashed like an accordion. Long story short, we called 911, and helped the couple–astoundingly not dead–until the police and ambulance came. Thank god we heard the crash; there is very little traffic on that road, you couldn’t see the truck from the road, or even much damage to the guard rail. Needless to say, we are overwhelmed with gratitude that the two of them are relatively okay (one does have some significant injuries) and we are continuing to try to get the county to put up better signs. Afterward, too wired to sleep, we watched multiple episodes of Big Bang until it felt possible to go to sleep, sometime around midnight.
And then, this morning, we discovered that letters were sent out to my nieces, the eventual beneficiaries of an annuity we have, that, in light of our recent deaths, they would be receiving the remaining balance. Just in case the word spreads–we are not dead yet.
In light of the above, it feels especially appropriate to savor the joy of early spring flowers, like this tiny iris that I love so much, and have so few of.
The snow drops were in full form a few days ago, but today they are fading. I like this photo because it shows you how most of the yard and farm is still brown brown brown. And the snowdrops are tiny tiny tiny (I was lying on my stomach to shoot this.)
Last week the sheep got shorn, here they are in mid-process:
Here’s a video of them afterwards, in which Beyond and Snow White go at each other a la National Geographic. I’ve mentioned before that sheep recognize each other in part through scent, and when you shear them they smell like strangers. Usually I cover their eyes and spray cheap perfume on their faces, but the day was a stir-fry and I just couldn’t manage it. (No sheep were harmed in the making of this video, promise. I was ready to intervene but you can see Beyonce (what a bad ass!) start to rub faces with Snow White as things progressed.)
I leave you with Maggie, assuring you that she is feeling much better, and would like to come to your house to work sheep, please. And a reminder that the ticks are out big time, let’s be careful out there!
Here’s hoping your week is less dramatic than ours. I would love it if you would join the “old or sick” conversation. Tell us your experience, your insights. People will thank you for years!
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