About the Woo...

Oh, Gypsy, Gypsy, Gypsy.

Earlier this month Gypsy came down an ear infection and double yeast infection on her back paws.  Because of course she did. 

She's now so hyper sensitive to yeast that she has zero tolerance and immediately starts to worry the affected area.  Which is fabulous if it is late on a Friday when you first notice that the itchy b*tch is itchier than usual.  And when I say "itchier than usual" I really mean "gnawing and licking her paws until they bleed".  So, I did what any reasonable dog mom in a desperate situation would do.  I filled socks with corn starch and taped them on her back paws (hey, corn starch works for diaper rash!).  And you know what?  It was a miracle.  The corn starch dried out the yeast and the socks kept her from licking her paws anymore.  Problem (temporarily) solved!

Of course, she totally got back at me by WALKING.  Clearly, I didn't think everything through because:

Well played, Woo.  Well played.

Later that same night, or rather the wee hours of the morning (specifically 4 AM), her ear started to bother her.  Earlier it had just been warm and tender to the touch.  But in the predawn hours of the day, it suddenly escalated to I MUST SHAKE MY HEAD EVERY TEN SECONDS.  This was not only annoying (4 IN THE MORNING!), but also cause for concern because Gypsy has a history of ear hematomas.  And, OMG, I CAN'T GO DOWN THAT ROAD AGAIN.

Which is how this happened: 

Yes, that's my dog with a dish towel duct taped to her head.
In my defense, I used Avengers duct tape.

Before you go and call the SPCA on me, the vet actually congratulated me on my efforts to both soothe Gypsy and keep her from making a bad situation worse.  Because dogs with a history of ear hematomas are more likely than those without to get another ear hematoma.  Believe me when I tell you that a dish towel temporarily duct taped on her head (until we could make it to the vet) was the most humane of all the options.   

Even if she does look like a little, old lady with a head scarf.

Now for some GOOD news...

Guess who declared her independence yesterday from three months of antibiotics, ear surgeries, Elizabethan collars, head bandages and stitches?

Woo, that's who!

Yay!

Sorry the photo is not very good. I took several pictures of Gypsy last night and this morning but she REFUSED to look happy:






Apparently, she's grown accustom to looking pathetic. It gets her more sympathy.

To make up for it, though, Haskell is always ready with a smile. That dog LOVES the camera:

(Now give me cookie)

In other news, Gypsy is now a bobble head...

Oh, Gypsy, Gypsy. Where do I begin with Gypsy?

Gypsy has been at the vet since Friday morning thanks to four things that happened Thursday night:

1. Gypsy figured out how to get her ear out of the bandage.


2. Gypsy had a difficult time breathing.


3. Gypsy became lethargic and stopped coming when called.


4. Gypsy’s head started to swell.

Basically, Gypsy was a disaster.

Had I been able to take her to the vet immediately, I would have considered it. But none of her symptoms were causing her too much distress, and we were hoping to avoid an emergency vet bill on top of already mounting medical tab. In hindsight, the problem breathing was the most cause for concern, but at the time I honestly thought it was more due to the head bandage than anything else.

So, we waited.

I didn’t sleep well that night.

The next morning, I loaded Gypsy into the car, and we returned to the doctor. For the fourth time in six days.

Initially, the vet also thought that the difficulty breathing was being caused by the head bandage, but Gypsy continued to have problems even after the wrap was removed. And the bandage was hiding the degree of the swelling, which – according to the vet – was surprisingly extensive.

At first, it was assumed that the difficulty breathing and the swelling was caused by an insect bite or bee sting. But no puncture marks could be found after a thorough examination. After ruling out several other possibilities, it was determined that Gypsy was having an allergic reaction to her post surgery antibiotic.

Because, you know, why not?

Due to the extensive swelling and labored breathing, the vet wanted to keep Gypsy until Saturday or Sunday so they could administer shots of antihistamine every four to six hours, along with an injectable steroid. Gypsy’s mood and activity level increased within hours of the first treatment, and she has continued to improve since.

Yesterday, when the vet called to report in, I thought I would be able to pick Gypsy up and bring her home. The swelling had gone down considerably, but – strangely – the right side of her head and face was still swollen. The vet wanted to try her on a different antibiotic, but – because of the adverse reaction of the other medication – she wanted to keep Gypsy at least another 48 hours to monitor her progress and ensure she tolerated her new meds well.

This, of course, means that I won’t get my baby back until Tuesday at the earliest.

I am in withdrawal from a general lack of Gypsyness. All the dog toys are in the toy basket and I haven’t been stealthily licked in four days. It has all been very tragic for yours truly. Plus, I've been worried sick.

Gypsy, by all accounts, seems to be enjoying her stay in the vet’s hospital wing. I took her bed, kibble and favorite toy up on Friday, and she has been spending time trying to convince the vet techs and doctors to play with her (apparently with a lot of success). She is also so sweet (and looks so pathetic) that everyone has fallen in love with her, and she’s been allowed to hang out with the front desk staff from time to time during the day. I guess it is possible she won’t ever want to leave. Sounds like she’s got it made.

You know she’s milking it for all it is worth...

You think you are having a bad day? Gypsy is having a bad spring...

Lopsided.

We knew it was a possibility, but things were going really well. Gypsy's ear had healed up, and - although slightly deformed - was no longer infected or filling up with fluid.

Well, that is, until yesterday.

By this morning, it was swollen. I wasn't overly concerned at first, but it had nearly doubled in size in the time it took me to pick Trevor up from the airport and go to lunch. And the inside of her ear flap had turned a red, angry color. So, since my vet is open on Sundays, I decided to go ahead and make her an appointment for this afternoon. I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Plus, Trevor was exhausted and I figured it would give him an opportunity to nap before the Mavs game tonight.

Well, the vet was much more concerned than I was. How quickly her ear had filled up was worrisome in itself, but coupled with something else (something that I almost failed to mention) sent her quickly into alarm mode.

See, at approximately two in the morning on Saturday, Gypsy threw up. That in itself isn't that big of a deal (nor is the fact that she has continued to periodically throw up since), but the way she threw up that first time was. When Gypsy gets sick normally, there are several grunt, grunt, grunt noises that signal what is about to happen. She is also always standing up. However, when she threw up on Saturday morning, it was sudden and a bit more Exorcist-like. There was no warning. She wasn't standing up. Gypsy was sleeping in her bed when it occurred, and seemed just as surprised about it as I did. And something else: she literally vomited on herself.

Apparently, that is all very rare.

The vet was concerned because, other than the fact that dogs don't normally throw up that way, it is possible that all Gypsy's symptoms together may be indicative of a far larger problem. Her ear flap swelled back up approximately at same time the vomiting began, as did the early signs of (yet another) an impending ear infection. Individually, none are cause for alarm, but together they suggest that Gypsy is so highly allergic to something that it is causing her body to - literally - attack itself. The vet is the most concerned about Gypsy's esophagus, stomach and thyroid.

It was decided that the vet would immediately drain Gypsy's ear surgically. It had filled back up so quickly, that she was in a fair amount of pain and discomfort. Surgery was the only thing that would relieve that, and keep it from continuing to get worse.

While she was out, I also agreed to let the vet scope her throat, take abdominal and esophageal x-rays and repeat the blood work from Gypsy's annual appointment in March. All this will tell us the extent of any internal damage.

The good news is that the initial x-rays do not suggest anything alarming. The screens have been sent off to an expert, though, and the official results will be back in a few days. As will her blood work. Keep your fingers crossed for some good news. Gypsy could really use some right about now.

In the meantime, Gypsy's left ear has been drained, stitched back together and is now tightly bound to her head so it can heal. This was a slightly different procedure than the one done the first time, and there is no drain. To avoid infection, though, it has to stay bandaged for the foreseeable future. Gypsy goes back in on Tuesday to have the flap cleaned and rebandaged.

For the time being, though, Gypsy looks like a pathetic one-eared flower:

My poor baby.

My dog may be broken, but Trevor's is an idiot...

Since the weather forecast was calling for severe thunderstorms today, I left Alley and Haskell inside the house with their doggie door off the kitchen open so they could come and go as they pleased. Haskell could probably care less about anything that doesn't involve his bed or sleeping, but Alley has squirrels to hunt and birds to annoy and random things to bark at. So, for her, I figured it was a win-win.

Cut to eleven o’clock this morning. It was dark-like-midnight outside, pouring down rain and hailing. My next door neighbor called to tell me that Alley was in the dog run crying. This meant that Alley had either forgotten that the doggie door was open, or that Haskell had figured out how to lock his sister out of the house.

I’ll let you decide which is more likely.

In other news, the saga of Gypsy's ear continues. She had the stitches and tube removed on May 6th, but (surprise, surprise) the incision site had developed an infection. So, for the next ten days, I got to administer antibiotics twice a day AND gently express this clear discharge out of her ear flap through the hole where the tube used to be. This is almost as fun and pleasant as it sounds.

Then, on May 15th, the hole closed up, so there was no longer an area to drain the fluid. At first, I wasn't very concerned. But twenty four hours later, Gypsy's ear had swollen back up like a water balloon, which translated into yet another trip to the vet. The doctor opted to lance her ear open so there would be a new hole for me to express. Oh, and yet another round of antibiotics.

A week later, though, and Woo’s ear is STILL draining. Not only that, but the tip of her ear is thickening and starting to curl. Somehow, I managed to play rugby for years and avoid cauliflower ear, but my dog isn’t so lucky. I know it is superficial and all, but it makes me so sad that one of her beautiful, soft ears is slowly deforming like a wrestlers.

The worst part is that if the draining does stop soon, we will most likely have to repeat the surgery. This, other than the obvious trauma to my dog and wear and tear on her poor, little, eight year old body, isn’t cheap. So, please keep your fingers crossed that the drainage will clear up soon.

Oh, and that Alley remembers how to use the doggie door. I hear more storms may be in the forecast for this afternoon.

Woo's Ear...

More on the Woo...

As of this afternoon, the bandage is off, but replaced with this nonsense. Poor Gypsy has to wear it until the stitches and tube come out of her ear in 2.5 weeks. So far not fitting through the doggie door has been the biggest adjustment. Well, that and Trevor calling her his little pansy.

Sigh...

Speaking of the bandage, it came off last night. This sent both Trevor and me into a mild panic, because the post surgery notes clearly stated that the stitches and tube should stay covered to ward off infection. So, at 9:30 last night, I drove to the store and bought $30 worth of gauze, medical wrap and tape. If only I had known that the bandage was coming off today anyway, I could have saved myself a lot of stress and agony. This was one of several attempts at rewrapping the wound:


None of our (many) attempts lasted very long. All it took was Gypsy standing up and shaking her head.

After many tears (mine) and an attempt by Trevor to tell me it wasn't that big of a deal (which landed him on the couch for the night), I literately bandaged Gypsy's ear and then - using about $10 worth of medical tape - tied it down to her head. She looked like a mummy. Tragically, I don't have a picture of this (I was at my wits end), but the good news is that it lasted all night before coming lose. By then, the vet was open, Gypsy had an appointment and I couldn't get her there fast enough.

Thank goodness the bandage is gone for good. Trying to keep gauze on a dog's ear is an exercise in futility. I feel all stressed and bothered just thinking about it.

(Shudder)

An update on the Woo...

So, the hematoma had to be drained. It gradually increased in size over eight days until the ear flap was so heavy and swollen that poor Gypsy could barely even move it. The only good news in all this is that she needed to have her teeth cleaned, so at least I got a two for one deal.

Of course, all of this was of very little consequence to Gypsy on Friday. Let's pause for a moment to recount her "very bad day":

• Woke up earlier than normal.


• Not given breakfast.


• Had to listen to Haskell and Alley eat breakfast (note: Just because you close the door doesn't mean I can't hear you!)


• Taken to the vet.


• Left at the vet.


• Given bath.


• Put to sleep.


• While asleep, bad things happened.


• Woke up.


• Had to pee.


• Mouth hurt.


• Ear on fire.


• No Mommy.


• Become paranoid and started to whine incessantly.


• Mommy would later learn that all the whining and paranoia was a side effect of the anesthesia.


• Mommy would also discover that the whining and paranoia will take almost 48 hours to wear off (serves her right).


• Mommy (finally!) came and rescued me from the vet.


• Have a tiny accident in lobby because I still had not been given a chance to pee. Well, that and I was really excited to see Mommy.


• Make it outside just in time to really let loose. Don't make it quite to the grass. Pee on sidewalk next to grass.


• Embarrassed.


• Still feeling loopy and miss judge the jump into Mommy's car.


• Finally get breakfast.


• Must not let Mommy leave my sight. Follow her everywhere.


• Make sure Mommy knows just how really rotten my day was.


• Have Mommy shove pills FIVE pills down my throat.


• Sleepy.


• Annoy Mommy some more.


• Night, night.


• Woken up so Mommy could take pictures of how pathetic I look.


• Glare at Mommy so she knows I am not amused.


• Nod off again.


• Dream of chasing a squirrel.


• Dream squirrel got away.


THE END

Just so everyone knows just how pathetic Gypsy really looked, I offer the following:

Poor Gypsy Kitty...

Another tale of woe starring the Woo...

Gypsy. Why is it always Gypsy?

It has been nothing but vet visits lately for my dear Gypsy Kitty Woo. The first was on March 18th for her annual appointment and vaccinations. At the time she had some irritation in her left ear canal, but not an infection. Thirteen days later, however, she had a full blown yeast AND bacterial infection in BOTH ears. Because she is special that way.

I see you...

Cut to yesterday morning. I woke up to discover Gypsy playing "alligator". Alligator is what I call it when Woo sits by the side of the bed and wills me to wake up with the power of her mind. All you can feel are her eyes staring at you intensely. But the second you open your eyes or otherwise aknowledge her presence, she strikes with a stealty liiiiiiiick before trotting away with a hearty "Ha Ha Ha".

This is one of her most favorite games. Which, of course, means it is one of my least favorite. It is especially unpleasant on Saturday's when I am attempting to sleep in. I think the fact that I hate it is Gypsy's primary motivation to keep playing. It is just more fun that way.

Look. I know you are awake. Feed me.

However, yesterday was a Thursday and I was having a particularly difficult time waking up, so I called Gypsy back over to my bedside and started petting her and rubbing her ears. The ear infections had seemingly cleared up, but I still wanted to have a look and see if I could detect any lingering discharge or faint odor of yeast. And that is when I first noticed The Ear Flap.

Gypsy's left ear flap was swollen and sort of felt like a hot water balloon. Strangely, she didn't seem to be in any pain, but, boy, was it enough to completely freak me out. So it should come as no big surprise when I tell you that not twenty minutes later I was dressed and Gypsy and I were on our way to the vet.

Which leads to the diagnosis...

Apparently, Gypsy has an aural hematoma. That means she basically ruptured a blood vessel inside her ear flap, and the blood has pooled inside it. But, shockingly, her hematoma isn't that bad.

Well, I should rephrase that. It isn't that bad RIGHT NOW. Which is to say that it could get worse. A lot worse. Especially, if we can't get her to stop shaking her head. And since there is not a really good way to keep a dog from shaking their head, there is a pretty good chance that we are all screwed. Especially if you factor in the fact that one of her ears is still fighting an infection. An itchy infection.

Bother.

If the hematoma continues to grow (which it might), we will have to have it drained. A process which, according to the vet, we should hope to avoid. The risk of infection is super high, and it can take several weeks for the ear to drain properly. So please keep your fingers crossed that Gypsy suddenly ceases to be itchy and the blood gets reabsorbed by her body. That would be awesome.

I tried to photograph the ear in question, but I am not sure how effective the images are. As every woman knows, black is a very slimming color and, in this instance, it is hard to get a good feel for the ear flap turned water balloon. But here you go:

Gypsy's right ear. This is the usual width of her ear flaps.

This is the width of the ear flap with the hematoma.

It feels heavy and hot, but doesn't seem to bother Gypsy at all.

This is the underside of the flap.
You can see where her skin is a little red around the hematoma.

The tip of her ear.

Ear by ear comparison.

Thanks to the internet, I now know that you can bandage your dog's ears in such a way that they no longer shake when your dog does. Somehow I am pretty sure Gypsy would die of embarrassment if I made her wear one of THESE. That said, there is no telling what I'd do (to Gypsy) to avoid surgery. And she thought wearing costumes was bad!

Poor Woo.