A visit to the vet

Okay. Saturday morning. 9 AM. Charlie's next check up with his vet.

Going to check out how his heart is doing. No chance that he will be getting better. My only hope is that he isn't getting worse.

It started a little more than a year ago. To see a strong active dog fall to the ground for no apparent reason was a shock. Maybe he ate something or was overheated. I was prepared to hear any "normal" diagnosis from his vet. What I was not prepared to hear was that his heart murmur had progressed from a level 2 to a level 4. When I heard those words I looked at him and the doctor and with tears in my eyes struggled to ask her what that meant. Sometimes I guess you just know what certain words mean especially when you take into account the way those words are spoken. Not good. Not good at all.

So just about everything I knew about what can happen to a human being was now being applied to Charlie. Blood pressure. EKG. Blood tests. The vet then said that she could make arrangements for Charlie to be seen by a cardiologist. Today. Not good. Not good at all.

We went directly from the vet's to the specialist. I was holding Charlie still while the doctor performed an ECG. A new medical term. Cardiomyopathy. Never heard it before. Then "congestive heart failure". That I had heard before. Inwardly my only thoughts were, "Please don't apply the words heart failure to Charlie. Please."

In what can only be described as a foggy dream I remember him saying, "Maybe six months. Maybe a year."

Prescription and a CD wth pictures of Charlie's ECG in hand it was off to the pharmacy. I will find out what they're for later. "Do you want to wait for them to be filled or do you want to come back later?" An echo of "Maybe six months. Maybe a year." I'll wait, thank you.

So morning and evening, he gets his pills. With one exception, he hasn' t been off a leash since then. In a cast up to mid thigh, I had taken him to the local dog park. Me in a cast with crutches and a 130 pound dog trying to get into a cab. Charlie took off and ran about half way across the park before he stopped and nearly fell to the ground. That was the last time he was off lead in the park. It's okay that I have grand memories of him running across a field. Almost sounded like a horse.

We still go to the dog park regularly. It's okay if he wants to visit with every single dog in the park. I walk him over there and back. "No, he isn't vicious or a biter. He's on his lead because he has a heart condition."

And I will, once again, walk him to the vet's office.

This Saturday. 9 AM.

Please...