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| Jessie, healthy again and ready to dig her way through any garden. |
DISCUSSING the addition of a Jack Russell terrier (JRT) to our kid and dog-filled family with the breeder, I addressed my concerns. With two standard poodles and three kids, would a JRT fit in? It was worth a try.
When the day came that we were to choose our little JRT, the breeder had chosen two pups that would be a good match - Jessie was the perfect match. Jessie was born on a beautiful farm in Bancroft, Ontario, Canada. This little Jack Russell terrier joined our family as an adorable 12-week-old pup - they don't come any cuter!
Anyone who knows a Jack Russell knows the zest these little dogs have for life. Never missing a beat, movement or scrap dropped onto the floor. Jessie entered our family with a bang, grabbing top dog status right away. She also attempted the top being position, but I confidently let her know, that position was filled.
Jessie settled in nicely and we braced ourselves for a wild ride. Jessie was up for fun, especially a good chase. She accompanied us daily on our hike through the woods, jumping over logs, diving under trees and down holes. More than once I had to retrieve this little fireball out of a groundhog hole. Thank goodness for those tails! Jack Russells are tough and durable little dogs. In her young life, Jessie has fallen 30 feet out of a tree, been stuck in numerous places and caught a bird in flight and swallowed it whole when asked to spit it out. She just keeps ticking like the little tanks they are.
For six years Jess led a healthy, fun-filled life for any dog. We have always given much attention to her joy of digging, hunting critters and eating. Her carefree life came to an abrupt pause one day that tested this little tank to her limits. Every morning Jessie gets a cookie with her canine companions. She takes a split second to wolf her cookie down, taking a few moments to nearly choke before scanning the floor for crumbs. This dreaded morning Jessie took her cookie and dropped it in front of her.
My husband and I looked at each other, this was very odd. She got a very funny look on her face, licked her cookie and then just looked at it. Her face told me to get her outside really quickly. She was sick several times and then consumed grass at an alarming rate.
Being a dog guardian for years, I assumed she had eaten something bad on our walk the day before. ''We'll let her stomach rest and see what happens,'' I said, thinking it would be over by night. The next day was no better, Jessie had no appetite and my worry started to rise. The following morning we were at the vet first thing. They assumed she had a blockage of some kind, but Jessie never ate odd stuff like socks or rocks like some dogs do. Blood tests and x-rays showed nothing and we went home for the day. I used a syringe to make sure she was getting water, the most important thing for her survival. Back to the vet the next day with Jessie vomiting and consuming grass like starved cattle.
Jessie was hospitalized to supply her with fluids intravenously and was given other medications. Every day I made visits to lift her spirits, but left with dwindling hope. Jessie was not getting better, and with no appetite she was losing weight rapidly. After five days, numerous x-rays and blood tests the vet recommended exploratory surgery. This surgery offered no explanation of cause but showed she had enlarged organs which were biopsied and her spleen was removed. Visiting her the day after her surgery was alarming, this skeleton thin little dog was not my tough tank body Jessie. But, a tiny wag from her withered body told me that she was indeed in there. She had been poked, probed, shaved, operated on and caged for days and still had a wag left in her.
The next day the vet called me saying Jessie was getting worse and needed a plasma transplant. With her little body wrapped in a blanket with tubes coming out of her limbs, we drove her to special care for her transplant.
There, Jessie spent the night in another strange and cold kennel. At dawn the next morning I called the special care facility but received no hopeful words. The vet at the special care recommended she stay there, where she could be observed. Up to that point no one could enlighten us as to what was happening to our little girl. It was then my husband and I decided that if she was to leave us, it would be at home and not in a cold cage at a strange place.
Her body was weak, a skeleton with skin, only slightly resembling the robust Jack Russell she once was. Placing her in the bottom half of a crate by the fireplace I nursed her around the clock. I gave her Pedialyte throughout the day with water and baby food watered down so it was thin enough to syringe into her, along with her medication. She was not getting better, she was fading before our eyes. At night I slept with her on the couch, surrounding her body with mine so I would know if she stirred. Even as the end drew near, she would heave her little body out the back door to relieve herself. Weaving her way to the grass and falling every couple of steps, she was a trooper with a will to live.
After 10 days there was no improvement and Jessie had labored, shallow breathing. Shakes had taken over her small body that would only subside if I held her close and tight to me. This is the time that all guardians dread, we had done all we could for her. The following morning I called my husband to tell him I was taking her, she was barely breathing and could no longer walk. This was her time to go, I could not let her suffer any longer. But letting her go without knowing what was taking her was very hard to deal with.
At the vets she lay quietly in her blanket as we discussed what was next. Cortisone was recommended at this point, not given earlier because of her extensive surgery. We had nothing to loose, ''give it to her,'' I said.
With one last bit of hope, I bundled my little package up, seat belted her in her seat and home we went. At home again, I held her close and told her this was her last hope. Placing her into the crate, I never thought there would be a change.
Within an hour Jessie had her head up looking at me working in the kitchen. What? She was interested in food? I rushed to her with her baby food, and she ate... she ATE! She ate only about a teaspoon, but she ate with enthusiasm. Just that morning I had thought to myself, ''how can I live without this little dog?'' We had turned the corner. Within a few days she was on the road to recovery. A $30.00 shot turned this whole ordeal around.
Was this a miracle drug? Did this give us any more clues as to what was going on? Maybe.
Since those awful days, Jessie has been tested for Addisons disease. Although her test came back negative, we are pretty sure that it is Addisons or a similar autoimmune disease. She is on a low dose of prednisone and doing well. It took Jessie almost a year to grow all her hair back and gain some muscle. She is now almost like the tank she once was. Every day I spend with this amazing little dog is a blessing and brings a smile to my face as I watch her, half buried a hole, engaged in the pure joy of digging.
