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Bomber
Mar 17, 2016 21:32:09 GMT
ck likes this
Post by Girlytrude on Mar 17, 2016 21:32:09 GMT
Having not eaten at all yesterday, no poo since Tuesday morning, signs of dehydration (dry tongue and mouth) but finally eaten some chicken this morning followed by liquid diarrhoea I was prepared for the worst this afternoon....but....
We're BOTH back home again! This is the final chance, but as the oral meds weren't being taken (impossible to get them down him and with food not being taken no way of hiding them) he's had an injection instead. This will last for around 2-2.5 weeks, but we're monitoring the next 5 days predominantly for positive signs. His tummy is tender but not overly painful (he panted a little when felt, but no wincing, lip curling or trying to pull away). And the good news is his weight is holding relatively well, having dropped from 6.6kg to 6.45 kg since the last visit (14 days) so not as bad as I feared. Having tried to clean some poo from a back foot with a baby wipe and struggled with him, there is still fight, and with the sun out he was insistent on NOT getting in the car to head off but wanting to continue his stroll on the green....so on balance while there are signs of fight in him and the vet feels there is this final option to try it was worth a shot. She's also given him some Zantac liquid to be given by syringe morning and evening to reduce any nausea and hopefully improve his inclination to eat.
She is available through to Sunday for any questions, and it's left that IF he does ok with the injection I take him back in 2 weeks...otherwise, it's at my discretion depending on his symptoms.
Meanwhile Bomber is making the most of the sunshine and cuddles XX
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Bomber
Mar 20, 2016 10:08:38 GMT
ck likes this
Post by cavalier789 on Mar 20, 2016 10:08:38 GMT
Good news,enjoy the sunshine!
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Bomber
Jun 2, 2016 17:45:36 GMT
Post by Girlytrude on Jun 2, 2016 17:45:36 GMT
Bomber gave me a bit of a scare on Friday. Finding things he will eat is as difficult as ever, and it means his diet now consists mostly of freshly cooked chicken (thigh or leg meat only), he no longer accepts fish of any kind, rice makes him bloat and be sick, and he has decided he doesn't like vegetables, mash or most other things anymore. On Friday he'd had his usual late night supper of a dish of finely chopped chicken and was still hungry and whining, but when I picked up the dish to refill it, the entire dish was red. For a split second I was trying to think what on earth I'd given him in tomato sauce...it took a moment for my brain to accept that it was what it looked like....blood! Immediate panic...in a calm and orderly, sensible Foster Mum manner...as you do Picked him up and try looking in his mouth, so he bites me! He may be an old boy and a bit poorly, but there is still fight left in this old boy I can tell you. So between the legs kicking, the nails scratching and the few teeth he does have giving a damn good fight he clearly wasn't feeling unwell, OR taking prisoners. Change of tactics was needed, resulting in Bomber being trussed up in a towel like a baby, all 4 legs pinned, and only his snout exposed. This gave me a chance to slide a finger into the back of his mouth for a feel. There was no way I was going to be able to prise it open for a proper look, and I couldn't see much due to the blood anyway. I 'think' he either lost a big tooth and the socket was bleeding, or he'd bitten his tongue in bumping the dish (with his sight being so bad his depth perception is very poor). So I syringed his mouth with iced water till it ran clear, by which time he'd calmed down a bit and accepted a small cuddle, before scrabbling to get down...only to whine for food again. I was wary of giving him something too solid, but remembered I'd got an emergency tin of Hills a/d in the cupboard...reserved for the day he completely refuses to eat for more than 24 hours. So out it came, and I popped a spoonful in a dish...gone! Within a few minutes the rest of the tin had followed it. So now I need to stock up on Hills a/d Belly full he took himself back to bed, stretched out and dozed off, none the worse for the scare. Not sure I can say the same! I spent all night up and down checking him and felt like c*** in the morning! Lol. Today he's a bit 'twitchy', pacing a lot and a bit shivery. He has days like this, so the heating is on full, everyone else is panting, but he comes first at the moment. And I've updated his Amazon wishlist to include the Hills food, as it's not cheap sadly, and any help would be very much appreciated. BOMBER'S WISHLIST XX
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Post by Girlytrude on Jun 16, 2016 19:47:06 GMT
After a couple of scary weeks, Bomber is doing quite well. He's responding well again to the steroid injections, and has been changed to Royal Canin Recovery food which he is really enjoying and seems to be doing him good. He sleeps a lot, but equally when he is awake he's quite alert and enjoys a potter.
He is on weekly check-ups at the moment, but all being well will revert to 3 weekly if they are happy with him at his next check-up. XX
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Post by Girlytrude on Aug 25, 2016 21:33:58 GMT
Bomber's last post on his Facebook page...
Well my Dear Friends, this will be my final message and by the time you read it I will be making my journey to that place I’ve heard so much about, where dogs go when they are old, tired, sick or too ill. These last few days have been very hard and I am so tired. I’ve heard that where I am going there are fields and trees, and bones aplenty and old bodies are renewed, pain is eased by unseen hands and youth returns. I’m rather hoping there are some rabbits and bicycles to chase. Do you think that’s allowed?
I came to live with Clare and Ben just over 5 years ago. I was 12 years old then and had been with my man from a puppy. We’d grown up together, boy and his dog; through school, then college. We were buddies, pals, and the closest friends a pair could be. He met a lady, and I’m not sure she liked me very much because I started to be left in the kitchen a lot. And then came a baby, and the fear that because I was a Jack Russell, and ‘older’ I might not adjust, I might harm the little one. And so I had to go.
Clare met me and promised to take very good care of me, and some papers were signed and the rescue became my new owners. I jumped in her car happily and she took me home. But when I got there I was scared...and angry. I didn’t know these people. This wasn’t my home. I didn’t know why I was here or where my Dad was. So I bit, and growled, and snarled. They needed to take me back, to be with my Dad. I needed to make them understand. But Clare said she was very sorry, I couldn’t go back. She explained that this was my new home until another one was found, and that we would learn together how to do things in a way I felt comfortable and safe with. And so she would put down my food but not look at me. She talked to me nicely, but didn’t touch me. She offered me my lead and when I growled and snarled she hung it back up and said ‘maybe tomorrow mate eh?’
And day by day I came to respect her. I offered her my head on her lap, then grudgingly a walk, then a nudge with my nose for a stroke. It took time, and there were a few nips along the way, but she learned what made me happy, and what made me dig my paws in and offer my teeth. After some months I was sleeping in her bed, enjoying the closeness and friendship of another human again...and our bond was sealed.
But another home just wasn’t on the cards. I’m a one person dog you see. I couldn’t go through all that again and I still had an ‘edge’ to my character. And so I stayed. And although I have the title of Foster Dog, I know I have been loved just as much as any family dog...strangely perhaps even more so. You see I have spent my last 5 years with Clare. Not my puppy years, the fun years, the young years. She took me in as a senior. She stayed with me through my anger and biting. She has nursed me through my declining health. And she was with me at the end, holding me in her arms and telling me how much she loved me. It comes to me that a home is not just where you live; it is where you are loved, and where you are wanted, no matter your flaws or difficulties. And I wish every dog could find what I have had the last 5 years.
And so my friends, I ask you to love a rescue dog. To open your heart to a senior. To not look past a dog because of its flaws or quirks, but to ask yourself what caused those problems and how you could help. And to be strong when the time comes and wish us well as you help us on our final journey, but not let your grief prevent you from one day loving another like Clare has done for me. For the final time, I sign off
Over and out Bomber
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Bomber
Aug 26, 2016 12:25:16 GMT
Post by frazzledazzle on Aug 26, 2016 12:25:16 GMT
Nothing new to add that hasn't been said on Facebook, but I'm thinking of you, Clare and Ben, and of course, gorgeous little Bomber. He was a credit to you and all your love and care. If there's any help I can offer, please let me know xxx
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ck
Rescue Friends
Posts: 869
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Bomber
Sept 7, 2016 15:01:18 GMT
Post by ck on Sept 7, 2016 15:01:18 GMT
I am truly sad for you Clare but he had a love from you like no other.
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