The Log Dog Blog: Not the best start to summer...

School's been out for two weeks and the first week of summer break was not particularly exciting. I attended a couple of professional development sessions, I got a haircut, and I got a few fun things in the mail. Also, our washer – already on its last legs – stopped working, necessitating a big repair job for C. Like I said, not exciting.

Probably the most exciting moment of the week was when my car hit a cool mileage reading. Once my car had passed 225,000 miles last year, I realized that there would be a string of consecutive numbers in less than 10,000 miles. I planned and set my tripmeter accordingly (I even put post-it flags on either side of the button to remind us NOT to reset it when we filled up the tank!). This quarantine obviously really slowed any accumulation of miles, but it finally happened!

2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10!

We'd been looking forward to the weekend because for the first time since Christmas, we had both of my brothers, their wives, my niece and nephew, and our two four-legged nephews at our house! We celebrated my mom's birthday and it was so wonderful to be with everyone again. We've all been vigilant throughout this pandemic about staying home and taking every possible precaution in order to protect my mom's health, so we felt safe getting together.

One of the highlights of the weekend was inflating a pool for my three-year old niece to play in. Since the water was cold when we filled it, C and my two brothers boiled water using every kettle and pot we own to warm up the water for her. Precious!

The second highlight was after my niece and nephew were in bed and we played Telestrations (if you haven't played this game, I highly recommend it – absolutely hilarious!). If you don't know this about me already, I am a TERRIBLE artist. Atrocious. I've accepted this inability to draw and avoid having to illustrate anything ever. Well, I got the word "Yoda" and my drawing is below. Enjoy.

it's supposed to be Yoda
raising Luke's x-wing fighter
out of the swamp on Dagobah

Our family time wrapped up on Sunday and I was anticipating another low-key week, aside from a couple of scheduled zoom meetings for school and the delivery of a new washer and dryer (yay!). That's not how things turned out.

On Monday, we noticed that Ginny was a bit lethargic. We didn't really give it much thought and just figured all of the excitement of the weekend after months of quiet had just tired her out.

On Tuesday, she was still pretty lethargic in the morning, and by dinner time, she was panting and breathing rapidly. We made an appointment with our regular vet for Wednesday, but were optimistic because she was eating and drinking normally. We observed some muscle spasms in her back and neck, and given that she's a Dachshund, is an IVDD survivor, and had spinal surgery in 2014, our first thought was something was wrong with her back.

We took to the vet on Wednesday afternoon, and because of social distancing requirements, we were not allowed to go in to the office. A tech came out and got her, Dr. T. came out to the car to chat with us, and a tech brought her back out to us at the end of the appointment – all from a safe distance and with everyone, including us, wearing masks.

I may need to explain a little about Ginny. At home, she will bark at anything and everything. In the car, the same. But once she is out in public, any onlooker would assume she is the most well-behaved, quiet little dog because she doesn't bark, she doesn't chase things, she doesn't bother anyone or anything. This is not because she is well-behaved and quiet; it is because she is terrified. She has always been so fearful of the outside world. When we take her to the vet, she allows Dr. T. (and any other vet we've seen) to examine her, move her head and legs around, look in her eyes, ears, and mouth, whatever needs to be done, with no resistance.

Well, we weren't with her this time and she was stubborn and obstinate. Dr. T. referred to her as "a potato" because she would not budge for Dr. T. As silent and still as a stone. While that sounds amusing, it's not exactly helpful when Dr. T. is trying to evaluate and diagnose. She did manage to do an x-ray, and there was no obvious indication that anything was wrong with her spine. Since that surgery in 2014, there have been a few spells where we've had to do rest and medication to counteract flare-ups, but overall, we've been very fortunate because that surgery was an unparalleled success.

We came home Wednesday night with medication and directions for crate rest. We don't have a crate, but we do have a playpen we bought back in 2014, and we'd already gotten it out and made her sleep in it on Tuesday night just to be safe.

Obviously the medication helped and she was able to rest comfortably Wednesday night and yesterday. We decided to take her for a drive yesterday, as we've been doing throughout this entire quarantine, and that proved to not be a good idea. I think the jostling of the car bothered her and it wasn't long before she was panting again. We came home and got her settled again, and things seemed ok.

So OK that when I spoke with Dr. T. this morning to get her bloodwork results (everything looked goo), I said Ginny was doing ok and that we were just going to continue with the meds and rest. I had long-standing plans to meet a friend for lunch, and Ginny was resting comfortably with C when I left. I was at lunch less than an hour and we were just finishing up when C called and said Ginny was crying and panting. When I got home fifteen minutes later, she did not look good. C had already called the neurologist's office.

We took Ginny to the emergency vet hospital, and once again, we were not allowed to go in. We waited in the parking lot while she was seen and the vet called us to let us know Ginny was being admitted and would be seeing a neurologist tomorrow. If surgery is an option, that's what we'll be pursuing. We'll know more tomorrow once more testing is done, including an MRI.

So now we're at home and the house is so quiet and empty and I hate it. I can't even explain how much I hate it. My heart is filled with worry and tomorrow cannot get here soon enough so we know what we're dealing with. I can't help imagining our sweet little girl all alone in a strange place, loopy from meds, feeling awful…it is the worst.

All I can do is remind myself how tough she is, how much she has overcome in her life already, and that she is receiving the very best possible care.

I might not know for sure how this weekend will play out, but I do know we will do anything and everything to make her better.