The Tale of a Three-Legged Dog

Hi All,

Libby here. France was lovely. Thanks for asking.

Now let's get down to business. Dr. S. was telling me about a cool case he saw that I wanted to share with you all.

A few days ago, a little four and a half pound, three-legged, twelve year old Yorkie named Woodstock came into the PPAC. Poor little Woodstock has had a tough go of it. A few years ago, a tumor was found on his leg and after consulting with an oncologist, they decided to amputate his leg because the tumor was not really operable.

So anyway, this adorable little three-legged pup is brought into the PPAC by his mom earlier in the week because Woodstock had been acting a little funny and she wanted some blood-work done. Nothing of any real consequence came out of the tests, so Woodstock was sent home.

At home, his condition continued to worsen and got to a point where he couldn't even walk. At this point, his mom decided to bring Woodstock back in for some follow up tests. Dr. S. met the little pup and after a physical examination, he observed that Woodstock couldn't walk, had a fever of 104.5 and had enlarged lymph nodes. 

Dr. S. had an idea that these symptoms might be related to tick borne diseases (those nasty ticks are especially bad in the summer time!) so he sent out some blood work looking for lyme disease, ehrlichia and anaplasmosis. (Sheesh, what a mouthful! In case you didn't catch on, those are all tick-bite related conditions) He sent Woodstock and his mom home with a treatment of something called doxycycleine, and told them to wait for the results of the blood-tests.   

The blood tests came back and there was a positive test for anaplasmosis. Woodstock's mom put him on the meds Dr. S. gave him a few days earlier and he is doing much better! Needless to say, Woodstock's family is thrilled (as is Dr. S.) for having figured out the mystery of the three-legged dog. 

I love a happy ending! 

Til' next time,

Libby

The cat has left the building.

Hey everybody!

Libby here.

I'm sunning myself in the south of France. Send me some postcards and I'll be back soon!

The PPAC Lineup

Hi All,

Libby here.

As you may recall, I have recently been sharing the beloved duties of blog writing with some friends of mine.

For those of you appreciative of a respite from my sardonic tone, (I silently  resent you) I have some bad news for you-I'm writing again this week. HAH!

If you are an avid blog reader, you may have noticed that some blogs maintain steady calendars with recurring monthly topics. Though in general, I believe I would find this sort of constrained creativity stifling, it did generate a good idea. Starting now, I will regularly post about any animals up for adoption in the PPAC. I figure, what better a venue to build excitement about adoptable animals than this lovely blog?

So without further ado....

Contestant one! Meet Walnut. Walnut is a beautiful five year old kitty who came here under slightly unfortunate pretenses. She was being terrorized by her house mate (cat fight anyone?) and came here seeking asylum. She's ready to move into a loving home, free of Robespierre's Reign of Terror.(points to those of you who get this reference)





Behind door number two is the Reverend Bart. Reverend Bart is slightly on the, how shall we say, portly side. He is somewhere between seven and eight years old and he was sadly abandoned by a person who dropped him off to be microchipped...and then bolted. He is a big, lovable ball of fur.





Last but not least, we have Lady Frank. She is a super sweet seven year old who came to reside in the PPAC because her diabetic owner was not doing very well and was about to go into hospice care. Lady Frank needed a temporary home until different arrangements could be made and...voila!

And so ladies and gents, there you have it. The illustrious line up of the PPAC adoptees. If you already have a pet, there's always room for one more in your home and if you don't have the pleasure of a furry companion, you'll have no idea how amazing we are until you see for yourself.

Til' next time,

Libby