Zora went to the vet for a check up yesterday, after being on Pimobendan for a week. I keep a written daily record for her, and we’ve seen a marked improvement in her coughing frequency. In just a week, she has gone from almost continuous coughing at night and in the morning to having a just a few coughing spells off and on. Zora and I are both sleeping better. Her appetite is still a little spotty, but it’s very hot and that’ll do it at times. She has been eating more at night so we’ve been offering her a bigger meal at midnight before we go to bed.

I had blood work and an organ screen done, since some of her drugs can be hard on the kidneys. Everything was normal. Her heart sounds great, considering it’s state of wear. It’s anyone’s guess at this point whether the heart disease will ultimately kill her, or some other old dog ailment will come along and get her first. I thought for sure when she was diagnosed, that she wouldn’t live out the summer, and here it is almost July. Stubborn old bitch.

“That’s Ms. Stubborn Old Bitch to you.”

Evidently Zora heard Brett’s voice when he came back to the vet to pick her up after running errands. She managed to escape her kennel and was caught wandering the halls when the tech went back to get her. I thought maybe she was too old to be naughty. Wrong!

“Old enough to know better, too old to care.”
Our vet must deal with a lot of stereotypical dogs, because ours always confound him. He brought a little bit of mushy stuff into the exam room, to help with giving Zora her pills.

Brett: You put the dog pills in it. It’s like Play-Dough.

Me: A Pill Pocket?

Brett: That’s it!

(Brett doesn’t really keep up on pet products.) I smirked.

Me: Did she make the face?

Brett: Yes! And then she turned away like she couldn’t stand to look at it.

We both giggle hysterically. That is so very Zora-like.

Brett: The vet says, “But dogs love these!”

Not our dogs. Not if you want them to eat it. Now, if you hid it on the counter behind a giant stainless steel pot, they would find it and eat it. And I’m sure Cida would eat it, because she will eat weird things like Altoids and candied ginger. And Enki would eat it if you put it in a bottle of Tums and gave it a good rattle.

But not Zora.

“What part of ‘sighthounds are independent’ do you not understand?”
I have been giving her a few small pieces of cooked liver after her pills, to help wash them down. The reward doesn’t keep her from reminding me that I’m sticking my fingers down the throat of a large dog with large teeth, on occasion. This picture was taken Saturday, two days after she bit down on my hand, just a tiny bit. I hardly felt it until after I’d taken my hand out of her mouth and thought, “Ouch.”

Unfortunately the camera failed to capture the lovely greenish yellow that went all the way across the back of my hand. Good thing we love her.

“You better love me.”