Disobeying Doctor's Orders

So Coach and I made our springtime visit to the vet this morning.  The heartworm check, urinalysis, and medication pick up, you know, the routine stuff.  The stuff that is about as routine as an oil change.  But, like we all know, an oil change is rarely routine.

An oil change and a vet visit have a lot in common, and the most unfortunate thing about both of these is that I know little to nothing about cars, and my expertise on dogs goes about as far as seeing her tail wag and knowing she’s happy (absolute brilliance).   The scary thing about both of these conditions is that I think the people at the shop, and the people at the vet office know exactly that.  They could tell me anything, and I suppose I have to take them at their word (and then spend money).

Here is Today’s story.  Coach developed a bit of a limp this week.  She must have hurt her back right leg while playing with her buddy Rocky down the street on Tuesday evening or just laying on it wrong.  Either way, the limp has been off and on but has not been accompanied by any whimpering or any other sign of pain.  Of course it is bothering her, or she would walk on it all the time.   However, it isn’t bothering her nearly enough to cause her to not want to go on a walk, not want to jump on the bed, or not want to hang out the window while resting on just her back legs on the way to the vet, so she’s fine right?  (this is a scheduled appointment, it is not because of her limp).  So we enter the vet and she has blood drawn for the heartworm, they clip her nails, weigh her, (again the routine) and then because Coach has decided that this was a perfect opportunity for people to feel sorry for her and give her an extra treat, she decides this will be her time of the day to limp (side note: she doesn’t limp that much at all, she did this same thing 4 months ago, and got over it in about 12 hours, and has been fine since).  So the vet wants to check it out.  So she begins to feel her legs. She is doing the exact same thing I did with Coach when I was trying to see if there was any pain at the touch.  My diagnosis was that there was no pain at the touch, and Coach will eventually get over it.  Her diagnosis was that there was definitely something wrong, and Coach is obviously very tense, so they’ll need to get X-rays.  CAPTAIN OBVIOUS.  What gave it away?  The blatantly obvious limp?  You think she is doing that for dramatic affect?  First of all, she is tense because you picked her up and placed her on a steel table that she is slipping all over the place on, and has been tense on since you put her up there 5 minutes ago and started pricking her with needles to draw blood and raised it up with a motor to make her feel even more uncomfortable and... (you get the point).  If there is a dog that comes in there and is not tense on there then I think THAT is when you start to diagnose problems.  Dogs hate that damn table.  Second, you still have her on the damn table!!!

Ok, here is the hard part.  With a car, it’s very easy to say “alright, thanks, I’ll keep an eye on the specs for the rotary girder.”  With a dog, the guilt I have by not spending the $400 for an X-ray just sits in me.  It’s horrible.  Coach cannot sit there and tell me how bad it really is, I just have to guess.  I have to be (in my mind) this horrible person that isn’t treating their dog right because he won’t go find the real problem.  If I knew for sure that this is something that HAD to be done, I’d pay the $400 in a heartbeat.  But, because my expertise in dogs tells me that she is as happy as ever, still wants to go on walks all the time, still jumps around to meet me when I come home from work, sprints out the front door to greet Dan when she comes home, hops on and off the bed willingly, plays with the neighborhood dogs, chases her tennis ball until complete exhaustion sets in, and doesn’t limp 95% of the time, I’m going to delay the procedure and go against doctors orders.

The unfortunate part is that the $400 is just to identify the problem, chances are they tell me to keep an eye on it, and give me a $2500 solution if it gets any worse.  So, I’ve decided to skip the $400, and go to step 2, keep an eye on it.  If she ever turns down a walk, or decides not to use her leg for an extended period of time, then I’ll take her in drop the big bucks.    

Besides I think Coach would rather the $400 go to more rawhides and tennis balls anyway.

Until next time,