Buddy Rose the Pit Bull Part VII

(Parts I-VI of this story are posted below. If you would like to read these posts in chronological order, please scroll down to Part I.)

Monday, June 14
I had promised a neighbor I would let her know about Buddy's condition after our trip to the specialist vet in Dublin. I really was heartbroken because Buddy's chances of walking were getting smaller and smaller. Today, I thought Buddy's chance at survival was less than 50/50. I was so upset I could not walk across the street and discuss Buddy without giving myself some time to try and pull myself together. For three weeks we had been riding the Buddy roller coaster ride. Our ride had just hit a new low. Buddy wasn't in the floor sleeping. He wasn't crawling around on the floor wagging his tail holding a toy in his mouth. We didn't have to give him any medication. I didn't have to carry him in and out or sit outside with him until he crawled around sniffing and finished all of his toileting. I took Mollie in my arms and cried as I told her I had let Buddy down, but I would never, ever let her down. Several hours later with Mollie in tow, I visited our neighbor to let her know how the trip to the vet had gone with Buddy.

There were days in the past three weeks when I was really tired. The inside of my arms and hands didn't hurt anymore because they had become rough and hard from Buddy's coarse fur. Now, without the responsibilities of Buddy for a day or so, I could rest. Resting really wasn't in the cards for me. I was so worried about him, rest wasn't on my mind. We all have our outlets, I cleaned, did laundry and cooked. Anything to stay busy and try to keep my mind off of Buddy.

The next morning as the Colonel and I had coffee, I asked, "If the vet calls, and it's the worst news for Buddy, do we go back to Dublin and get him? Do we bring him here to have him put to sleep at our regular vet? I don't think I can let him go without at least going to see him."

"We just need to wait and see what the vet says when he calls." As I've said, the Colonel is much smarter and calmer than I am.

We waited. At about 11AM, the vet called and said he and the surgeon had observed Buddy and the surgeon did not think a CT Scan was necessary. After observation, the surgeon did not think there was a spinal issue with Buddy. The vet said Buddy might have a disease called Myasthenia Gravis and they were going to test him for this. The Myasthenia Gravis test results would not be back for a week. They were also going to give Buddy a shot in the next 30 minutes which might, fairly quickly, make him get up and walk for a very short period of time. If this shot worked, chances were good that Myasthenia Gravis was the diagnosis. Later this afternoon, they were still going to put Buddy under general anesthesia to do the spinal tap to get fluid samples from his spine to check for disease. The vet told us if Myasthenia Gravis was the diagnosis, Buddy would have it for the rest of his life, but it was treatable with medication. We thanked the vet, hung up the phone and waited again.

Thirty minutes went by very slowly. An hour passed. We wondered out loud about how Buddy had done after the shot. After everything we had been through, if Buddy had actually walked, even for a short period of time, we regretted we weren't there to see it. Sometime after 3 o'clock, we couldn't stand it any longer, we wanted to know if he had walked or not. We called the vet and left a message. Thirty minutes later, the vet returned our call.

"No, Buddy did not get up and walk after the shot. This doesn't completely rule out Myasthenia Gravis as a diagnosis. He could still have this. We won't know for sure until the test results come back in a week or so."

The vet told us how Buddy Rose had won over his staff. They absolutely loved him. He had observed Buddy on the ground, crawling, sniffing, doing his "business" and rolling in the grass. He thought Buddy was a pretty, happy, exceptional animal, too. He said Buddy had come through the spinal tap procedure and was recovering from the anesthesia. He would have most of the test results back tomorrow and would call us. And, we could come pick up Buddy Rose about 5PM and bring him home.

Even though Buddy wasn't walking, I didn't care. Buddy was coming home! I'm not sure what I was thinking. We didn't have a diagnosis. We had just dropped a load of cash we didn't have to NOT get a diagnosis. Because of traffic, we were going to have about a four hour round trip drive to go get him. I didn't care. Buddy was coming home!

We didn't want to leave Mollie home alone. She's a really good rider and would much rather be with "the pack" riding than be left at home alone with the meanest cat in the world. We packed some bottled water, a water dish for Mollie and another for Buddy and headed out to pick up Buddy and bring him home. The commute traffic wasn't bad in our direction. I couldn't drive fast enough.