I know there are quite a few of us diagnosed with rare diseases that either have service animals or emotional support animals. Living with indolent systemic mastocytosis (SM) for the last 25 years, I have delt with stress, anxiety and depression daily. My best friend and companion, Sergeant the dachshund, is my everything. He is always by my side, helping me cope with living daily life with a rare disease. He loves me unconditionally, and the feeling is mutual.
A constant companion
I was not even supposed to have him. I was asked to puppy sit when he was 10 weeks old. I fell in love with him, and dreaded the day he would go back to his home. But then I was asked if I wanted to keep him. I jumped on the opportunity for this sweet puppy to be mine, and he has been by my side ever since. I call him my “Velcro dog” because he is attached to me and follows me everywhere. He knows when I am sad, in pain or stressed. He snuggles with me and rolls over for me to pet his belly. He calms me down. It is amazing what animals can do for you.
But what happens when they need you? On Aug. 20 while Sergeant was lying beside me, I noticed he was shaking uncontrollably. No other signs that anything was wrong. When I placed him on the floor of the house he could hardly walk. Of course, the vet office was closed, so we had to wait until the next morning to get him checked out. After X-rays and an examination, the doctor told me he had damage to his thoracic spine.
He was given anti-inflammatories and pain medicine, and I brought him home under orders of strict rest. Over the next few days his condition worsened and I carried him back to the doctor. They changed his meds and put him on steroids as well. I moved everything he would need into the living room, including my bed mattress on the floor. His food and water were next to us, and a pee pad was placed in the living room too.
He had no interest in food. He would drink water occasionally, and only used the bathroom once a day. He was getting worse and I was watching him suffer.
Even while he was suffering, he wanted to be right beside me. It was like he knew that I would take care of him, even if I couldn’t stop the pain. His eyes were dimming and I could see he was giving up on fighting. My heart was broken and I grieved because I knew what was possibly on the horizon. Telling him goodbye. Thanking him for being the best dog ever, loving me and helping me these last 5 1/2 years.
I called the veterinarian and she suggested that I see the other doctor in the office. So, we went back and she examined him. At this point he couldn’t stand on his hind legs. But even though the pain, his tail never stopped wagging. I was so scared she would come back in and tell me the awful news I was dreading. I was on the floor praying and loving my best friend. Preparing myself and not knowing how I was going to say goodbye.
But that did not happen, at least not now. I was given hope. The doctor believed that with treatment there she could give him a chance to recover 75%-100%. So, I left him in the hospital for the next three days. He was on an IV drip that rehydrated those discs, and had laser therapy on his spine. He was on a MLK 24-hour drip, so he was pain-free while his little body was healing.
He had given me everything, and now it was my turn to return the same to him. The house felt empty without him. I tried my best to stay positive.
Home again
Everything worked, and he is now with me at home where he is supposed to be, right by my side. He is the best dog ever. I love him. He is a fighter, just like his Mama.
If anyone else has gone through something like this, I feel your pain. If you have a support animal give them a huge hug right now. They do so much for us. They make navigating life with a rare disease easier with all the love they give.
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