Three and a half weeks ago, we added a new member to our family. We rescued a beautiful male labradoodle. I'm going to call him Bear in this piece.
That’s part of his name, the part we gave him, kind of a nickname, but we ended up keeping the first part of his original name because he was used to it. For protection, I won’t share that part of his name.
He was abandoned by his previous owners while they were on a cross-country road trip in a van or RV.
I'm not entirely sure exactly which one they were in, but they were travelling in it with two larger dogs. On the trip, Bear got very ill.
According to the angelic vet that treated and literally saved him, it appeared he had a neurological issue. He was limping, which progressed to being unable to really walk at all.
The vet gave his previous "family" (you’ll understand why I use the quotes in a bit) ideas on what he thought it could be. As all doctors do. It’s been done with my kids and my other pup Duke. They lay out all the possible scenarios and you go from there.
There were myriad of potential issues, but it would take testing, eliminating, and confirming.
One thing he thought it could be was toxic mushrooms, which we’ve had a bloom of because we had a rainy spring and summer. Another possibility was Myasthenia Gravis. Among other potential causes.
This next part is crucial and gut-wrenching. Take a deep breath, I know I am as I type this part of Bear’s story.
Before ANY test results came in, just during the initial investigation moment, the previous "family" asked the vet to euthanise Bear.
They didn’t have even one single test result, just the potential issues that needed to be confirmed or denied based on his bloodwork and labs.
The angelic vet was beside himself. Bear is about 18 months old. A young handsome man, with a lifetime ahead of him, if the vet could find the culprit, which he was determined to do.
Nothing had been confirmed when they asked to euthanise him. And, had it been MG, it’s a treatable illness.
Angelic vet asked the "family" to surrender Bear instead. They agreed. They signed the papers. They continued on their road trip for another several weeks. Without Bear.
Bear was placed in a foster home through the local humane society. Then, Bear came across my path and I was obsessed with him, his case, and getting myself four-plus hours away from my home to meet him.
It didn’t matter to me that he was maybe sick. My thought was this: IF he is sick with a long-term illness that I can help treat with meds or care, then he should be with me, a person who treats her other pup like a son.