Brian's Story

(The chicks are fine and feathering out and running all over the yard with Mama Hen in this beautiful Spring weather. I will post pictures and updates soon. The past 2 weeks have kept me busy with our new baby, Brian, who died yesterday, 2 weeks and 2 days after we rescued him. This is a tribute post for him because, well, we owe it to him.)


     In the first 9 months of living here on the farm we have had to bury 3 dogs. Jack, our sweet black lab, Addie, my best friend ever and a dog for whom there will never be a replacement, and poor, sweet Brian, just yesterday due to canine distemper virus (cdv). He didn't have to die from cdv. It's the very first vaccination a dog gets in life but an irresponsible dog owner neglected to do it.

I fell in love with this very picture of Brian when I saw it on Facebook. A friend from high school posts a lot of shelter animals to help them find homes and I couldn't quit thinking about this big sweet hound's face.  He was in West Virginia, though, and a long way from Indiana.  I called my sister who lives closer to him and she said she could help and before I knew it the ball was rolling and we were adopting this big boy.
     According to county rules, though, he couldn't be released to me until he was neutered and then I would have to pick him up that day or pay for the vet to keep him overnight and he would have to endure the 8 hour ride a day after surgery.  I hated to do that to him but they had told me it was his last day in the shelter. He was to be put to sleep (pts) on that Saturday.  They had just gotten 30 more dogs in that day and his time was up, they needed the room. And they needed the money up front.  I overnighted the money to them for the adoption fee which included the neuter and his shots.  (The cdv shot would come too late for him).

     He was neutered that Friday as a work-in and then he was taken back to the shelter. In hindsight, I should have overruled this but the vet they used for the neuter wasn't going to be open on Saturday so he had to go back to the dirty shelter after his neuter.  My sister picked him up Saturday and I met her in Kentucky for the transfer. He was as sweet as his picture seemed to show. A big lug of a dog and all he wanted was rubbed on the head and he was constantly leaning into us.
     In his first 24 hours he had about five different names. He was Chuck for a while and that one stuck longest until we settled on Brian.  He was Max, Sam, Murphy, Bo and Gus.  But he was just so laid back and enjoyed a good stretch on the recliner or the couch that he really needed a laid back name. Brian it was. We laughed and laughed about his name and I didn't really think it would stick either, but Stan insisted and he learned it quickly.

Getting to know his new sister, Gracie.

In dad's chair right off the bat.

    He was far too skinny for me and I couldn't wait to see him eat and put some weight on. And then his testicles blew up. A few days after we got him home he developed an infection in his sac. We took him to the Vet and it ruptured in the office. We went home with pain meds and anti-biotics.  We kept him on the lead when we were out so that he wouldn't be too active and let himself heal.  We took long walks around the pond and he was so much fun to walk with.
     When he first saw the chickens he slipped out of my grip (because he was so laid back I didn't have a tight hold on his leash) and was off chasing them. It's a good thing he ran more like a great dane than a greyhound. I was able to grab the leash on the second time around the bushes as he gave chase to a few hens. I scolded him a bit and it turned into a teachable moment for us both. I hold tighter until he knows what he's doing on the farm and he learns his first chicken lesson--not to eat them. He learned that really fast as well and he was turning out to be such a promising addition to the family.
     We eventually walked the pond without his lead and he began going out at night with Gracie, his cock-a-poo sister and chasing the blackbirds around the cattail pond, Gracie's favorite thing to do since she is banned from the chicken yard when they are out. Some dogs are not trainable in this let's-get-along-with-the-chickens thing.

Brian and Gracie sharing the twin bed in the office--never
far from Mom.

     Brian's only good Saturday he spent with us was an awesome one.  The grandkids came over to go fishing and the boys took advantage of the unseasonably warm weather and went swimming in the pond. Brian got so excited I thought he would bust. He had come into the shelter in WV as a stray and I think he may have belonged to a man or someone with boys. He followed me everywhere but he gravitated to Stan and when Jayden, our 11 year old grandson was here, it was love at first sight.

Jayden made sure to tell me, "Nanny, you KNOW this is my dog, right?" They were so cute together. But Brian wasn't exactly all that fond of the water so when the boys went swimming he proceeded to run--and this time he DID run like a greyhound--around that 3 acre pond in laps. He was amazing to watch that night and he couldn't wait for Jayden to come back in.

     I think he may have overdone it that day and in hindsight I'm so glad he did. I'm glad we let him run with the boys that night and have his fun on the farm.  In a little over a week he would be gone.

     Brian developed a fever and got quite lethargic after that Saturday and I thought it might be the infection coming back after his run.  I took him to the Vet and she thought he might still have the infection as well and his sac continued to drain just a little. He also had some goop in his eyes (another symptom of the CDV) and we started him on meds for that.  The Vet and the Vet-techs loved him, too.  He loved on them and they loved on him. He did his 'lean on me' thing and they were smitten with our big, sweet hound. We got him some different antibiotics and metronidazol to help his stomach through the large doses of antibiotics he was taking and more stuff for his eyes. They had ulcers forming in them.  In the next few days he would alternate between good and bad days and on Friday when he went for a follow-up he seemed to be coming along but slowly. But he wouldn't eat and continued to lose weight. We thought it was from the pain he was probably experiencing and the upset stomach from the meds but he was getting frighteningly skinny at that point and the Vet had me switch him to cottage cheese and rice. He seemed to enjoy that. As soon as we returned from the Vet that day, though, he started having chewing gum seizures. He would work his jaw like he had something caught in his mouth or a piece of chewing gum stuck on his teeth. His face would draw up, though and his eyes that had been painful and squinty from the ulcers, had gotten huge and bulging.  He was drooling buckets of slobber the likes of which I had never seen.  I thought he might dehydrate just from the slobbering.  I rushed him back into the vet and it was decided he was suffering from a hypersensitivity toxicity to the metronidazol, something she had only ever seen once and it presented itself in the same manner.  (After all, this dog had his shots, right?)  The effects were supposed to wear off within three days.  So, I took him home Friday night with valium (I think they threw in a few extra for me at this point) for the seizures and a number for the emergency veterinary hospital in Indianapolis should he get worse because after all, it was Friday.  And don't all emergencies with the pets happen on the weekend?

     We gave Brian water through a plastic syringe a few drops at a time that night to help keep him hydrated. He wouldn't lie down. The valium--the strongest you can get-- didn't work on him in the least. I estimated he stood on his feet for close to 30 hours. He began to be skittish around me and anyone else who came near him but he remained sweet at all times. He was so hypersensitive that he couldn't be touched without feeling pain. Yet he miraculously let me medicate him. At least most of the time. I won't lie, either, I worried a little bit what he might do in this condition. A scared dog could do about anything. And a scared dog in pain might be a recipe for something to go horribly wrong. So I used caution and talked sweetly to him and only handled him when I had to. We made him his own hospital room in the house and it was quiet and I went in every few hours to check on him and give him drinks. 

     Saturday morning came and he was no better. The constant standing up was freaking me out. I loaded him in the truck and we headed to the emergency vet in Indy.  This is where we got the CDV diagnosis although he still wasn't ruling out the toxicity. His prognosis was bleak. He was either going to show signs of improvement in 48 hours or it would be the CDV and it was euthanasia for him. There is no cure. There is, however, prevention in the form of an extremely inexpensive puppy vaccine. I wanted to punch someone. The emergency vet said there was no wonder it wasn't caught sooner because it's so rare. Both he and my Vet had only seen one case each in all their years BECAUSE RESPONSIBLE PET OWNERS VACCINATE. Sorry to yell. I get a little touchy when I see a dog die such a horrible and painful death when there was no reason for it.

Brian having fun with the boys

He loved to lay in the sun on the deck
but it was painful for his eyes.

     They gave him about a litre of fluids in an IV and a powerful antibiotic. And still more meds. The bills were becoming ridiculous and as patient as my husband is he was getting a little antsy at best. I could see it, but he never said anything, God bless him.  That afternoon I got Brian to lay down on his big, comfy bed. His tremors had stopped and he would let me love on him again.  It gave me hope that it was the reaction to the meds and not the CDV.  I got on Facebook and let my prayer warriors over at www.anunslife.org know so they could start praying with me and I let the rescue volunteers know as well because they all worked so hard to get Brian a home and were always asking how he was. He had so many people praying for him and sending good energy and positive vibes during his final days but it just wasn't enough.  Sunday night he developed the seizures again and it was evident this was what it was. He had distemper. It is the most horrible way for any dog to go but watching that beautiful dog suffer like that was agonizing. He couldn't breath and sounded like he had developed pneumonia. So first thing Monday morning we wrapped him in a blanket and put him in the truck and went to our Vet. She euthanized him in the truck in the parking lot.  She bawled. I bawled. Stan bawled. It was a crime as far as I'm concerned.  It didn't need to happen. Shelters should vaccinate these dogs on the way in, not the way out. 

Please spay, neuter and vaccinate your dog. Shelters are full of unwanted pets who are healthy and need a home. This will in no way deter me from rescuing another dog someone threw away or turned out because it wasn't a fit for their lives anymore.  They deserve the life they were promised when that person first took them in. 

     Failure to vaccinate is neglect in every way.

     Brian got to enjoy a few good days on the farm. He was robbed of a lifetime. So I owe this post on this little chicken blog to him. Even if only a hand full of people ever read it. I know I will never forget him or his big sweet face. 

     Run on Brian...