Brody's story: VERY long.
In 2002, Jen and I moved to Mountlake Terrace, Washington - a northern suburb of Seattle when I got a job as Phlebotomy Supervisor for Dynacare Laboratory in Mount Vernon, Washington. I got there in June and lived in a motel in Sedro Wooley until Jen's contract was up in Columbus and I flew back to get her and Bosco and drive back.
We had been there for a couple of months and we started talking about getting another dog. We (mostly me) had helped out with the Greater Ohio Boxer Rescue while we were in Columbus and I said that we should definitely rescue as opposed to try & get a baby. We wanted one that was already house broken and had gotten through all the puppy issues, and ideally wanted another boy. (Until that point I had only ever had 1 girl dog and she was a real PITA..)
I had also been a member of the Boxer Mailing List, the largest (world wide) Boxer related ListServ around, so I had some contact with people that might be able to help us find one. I had been looking on Petfinder for weeks, and it seemed like every dog we were potentially interested in was only online for a day or 2 and they were adopted.
We got close, as there was a lady in Seattle that was also on the BML that was fostering a white Boxer named Murphy who was on PF. Unfortunately I didn't know that the dog on PF was the same one that she was fostering, or we might have ended up with him. We were sad initially that once again, he disappeared from the list just as we were about to start the process.
Right after that I got 2 emails about a dog 3 hours away. One of the BML admin's who lives in Phoenix emailed me about a senior dog in Wenatchee, and the next day a rescue lady (she did it on her own, not with any group) from 3 hours in another direction also emailed about the same dog. Initially I was like.. "Not just no, Hell no..I don't want an old dog". Boxers only live an average of 8-12 years, although I have seen them as old as 18(!!) but also be taken by natural means as early as 4. There was no way I was interested in adopting a dog that was going to die on us within a year of getting him.
I got another email from Maryanne, the lady in PHX, and she asked me to at least meet him, and that would also allow me to give a report to others out there about what his true state was, etc. if we weren't interested. We agreed to go out there and meet him, and decided that it was totally going to be up to Bosco. If Bosco didn't like him, there was no way wee were going to take him home.
We drove the 3 hours (1 way) to Wenatchee to meet "Jeremy", a 65lb Boxer mix (although his photo made him look like a pure bred Boxer). We were not prepared for what met us when we got there.
"Jeremy" was severely emaciated (even at 65lbs), had scabs on both ears and all over his face. He had what they called a "fatty tumor" on his left him that stuck out like a long, limp finger. He had about 10 broken teeth and several missing. He had been cleaned up, but when he arrived, he had maggots in his ears (Which I later found out actually was a good thing for him, since they kept it clean). He had been found by someone and they chained him to a tree and left him for several days before they called the HSUS to come and get him.
I went into an outdoor enclosed run with him and Jen and Bosco stayed on the outside so they could sniff each other, since we knew nothing about this other dog. He seemed almost not interested at first, although when one of the wardens came around he wagged his tail at her and was obviously happy to see her.. That was a good sign that he liked new people, even after a short time. We brought Bosco in and there really was nothing at first. It was uneventful, which was good. Bosco showed interest but Jeremy didn't really care. There was no fighting, so we spent more time trying to get to know him. HE warmed up and started paying more attention to us after a bit and we eventually let both of them off their leashes without incident.
We sort of reluctantly decided to take him home, partly because we knew he needed a lot of help and the closest person that would reluctantly take him was at least 3 hours away as well. We were prepared for the worst, but hoped for the best. We weren't concerned about him getting along with Bosco, just all the health problems as well as his age.
We asked about the adoption procedure, and WTF that was on his leg, and they assured us it was a benign fatty tumor.THey said he would need to be neutered before we could take him home as well as some other minor vet stuff. The vet they used said that she could take care of everything for us at once and save him having to go through anesthesia more than once, and we agreed that it would be best.
We paid the initial fee of $70 which included micro chip and neuter, and any additional vet bill would come to us later. On the way home we had to decide on a name. We decided to each come up with 3 names that we liked and then we would each pick one name to remove from the list.. By the time we got home, we had it narrowed down to 2 names. Baron or Brody.
3 days later I left work early to drive out to pick him up. He had been neutered, had the tumor removed (Although not sent to pathology) had 4 teeth removed, had his teeth cleaned and gotten all his shots. I wrote a check for another $400, and hoped that would be all for a while.
I learned that day that Brody had very weak back legs because he had 2 really bad knees. We didn't know if it was arthritis or 2 torn ACL's, but he never complained and he was still able to get up and around OK because he had so much more (than normal) strength in chest and front legs. He wasn't able to jump up onto things like the couch or bed (or in this case, the back of the Explorer) but he would get his front end up and stand there, wagging his tail and smiling at you while you lifted his back end up to get him up. It turned out to be a really endearing quality. (He could climb up by using his upper body strength provided the couch/bed/object was low enough to get his hind leg up.)
On the 3 hour drive home, we stopped a couple of times so he could go potty and we stopped to eat as well. He got french fries and at some point during that 3 hour drive, he decided that I was his Dad and nothing and no one would ever be more important to him than I was. I should also mention that this was October 10,2002. He was my early birthday present, and that would become his new birthday.
We tried crating him while we weren't home, but he broke the crate, and we took the risk and let him stay out and he never got into any trouble. I am sure his age had something to do with that. Bosco was locked in our bedroom and he was separated, but eventually we let both of them stay in there together and never had any problems.
There were a few accidents, but that's normal for a new dog in new surroundings. Plus we had to get him on a regular schedule. He and Bosco had to figure out who was boss, but we made sure we let Bosco know he was #1 dog and wouldn't let Brody mount him. Eventually they agreed on that and that was that.
Working in a hospital lab has its advantages. When the Histology supervisor heard that I was looking for a vet path lab, she offered to get the specimen ready to send off, saving at least $100 on the specimens for both testicles and the tumor. She also asked one of the Pathologist's to look at it, and he printed me an article to go along with it and referred me to a local vet pathologist to confirm, since he was a human Patho, not a vet.. What he did tell me was not good. The tumor was a Mast Cell tumor, probably grade 2 or 3 (the higher the number the more severe) and that they didn't get clean margins. Basically..It was cancer and they didn't get it all and it would probably come back. Mast cells are rogue cells that can land anywhere in the body and grow out of control.
We chose to not do anything further unless it grew back or caused more problems. He was too old, and we had already spent almost $500 to bring him home. We figured we would have him for 6 months and the cancer would take him, but we decided that it was going to be a good 6 months.
He also told me that one of his testicles had been ruptured sometime before and it was pretty much all scar tissue. Having had no history other than being chained to a tree where other dogs attacked him, we had to come up with out own hypothesis. When I would take him outside, if a big truck drove by he would always bark. He REALLY didn't like trucks. (Not big trucks like mine, we're talking dump drucks, semi's, etc..)
We figure that he was probably hit by a truck at some point, causing some of the trauma, possibly also injuring both knees. We never did X-Rays so we don't know if he had old broken bones that had healed, but we went with the "hit by car" theory for the rest of his life.
He was also terrified of fire. He hated candles, matches, lighters, or anything with a flame. We weren't sure if that was related to an incident, or if it was a natural aversion. Most dogs that live through fires are more afraid of smoke than flames, so we think it might be just that he didn't like it like some dogs don't like thunder or fireworks.
After about a month or so, we realized that he was deaf in his left ear. If he was laying on his right side you had to touch him or make sure he saw you or he wouldn't know you were there. We noticed this when oe was laying on his side with his back to the couch, sitting up. I was behind him where he couldn't see me and I dropped something, or there was a loud noise, and he turned his head to the right quickly (as if he heard it) and smacked his head into the couch. Once we stopped laughing, we tested it some more and figured out that he couldn't hear at all from his left ear and was hard of hearing in his right ear. Great. We had a 10+ year old arthritic, cancer-ridden deaf dog with 8 teeth. But he lubbed us (especially me) and we were OK with that.
It took a few months but he put on weight and got up to about 90 pounds. He was bigger than Bosco, especially his head. He was fawn with a black mask (Traditional Boxer markings) but his head was slightly more boxy than usual with a nose that was about 1/2-1" too long so we sort of figured he was part Mastiff as well.
Brody was the best judge of character that I ever met. He loved people, but if for some reason someone didn't like me, he hated them. There was a workman that came to the apartment for something and Brody snapped at him. I had never seen him act that way before, but apparently the guy was sketchy, at least Brody thought so. The other incident was with one of Jen's co-workers. I suspect (I have no proof) that he was trying to get between us because he wanted to be with Jen. I thought he was OK, but never really connected with him, and we even got into arguments (I don't remember what about) on more than one occasion. He was at our apartment for something, I think just to hang out, and Brody kept giving him the stink eye. I knew that look. It was the same look he gave the workman. He sat next to me and didn't budge, but when the guy reached in my direction, Brody snapped at him. I corrected him, and he settled down, but he never took his eyes off him. To this day, while I don't necessarily suspect Jen of cheating on me, I do suspect this guy of trying to get her to.
In February 2003, I took a transfer back to Columbus and we drove both vehicles, Jen with Bosco in her truck leading and me & Brody following. Unfortunately for us since weather patterns go east, the major snowstorm that was just east of the Cascades followed us the whole way. Did you know they actually close the highways in Wyoming during snowstorms? We had to pull off in Sundance, WY because it was shut down and we couldn't get through. It was only for a few hours and we were able to get out and on our way. The snow followed us all the way to the midwest, and we stopped in Peoria to see Jen's parents.
I left to go run an errand and they said that Brody cried and searched for me for an hour after I left. I'm glad I wasn't witness to that, because it would have really made me sad to see him upset like that. I knew than that he was extremely dedicated to me and that he'd always be my best buddy.
Over the next few months after we were in Columbus, he developed what we thought was a benign head tremor. I had seen other dogs with it, and the vet wasn't concerned. They don't know what causes them, but in hindsight, I suspect it was related to a brain tumor.
We bought the kennel in September 2003, but as you know we were separated within 6 months (Right around the time Lizzie was born) and Jen moved out in Fall of 2004. She took Bosco, as he had become such a Momma's boy that it was only fair to him that she get 'custody'. I still had Brody and the other dogs but even if she had wanted to take him, that was never an option.
After the fire, and throughout the re-building in 2005, I noticed him start to slow down. The head tremors were rare, but still occasionally there. He started sleeping about 22 hours a day, but occasionally got a little spark where he wanted to play.
I moved back to Waco in July 2006 hauling Brody, Fez, Lizzie and her oldest brother, Dillinger with me. Dillinger was going to live with my friends in Arkansas who had just lost a Boxer, and he's still with Ashley (They divorced) to this day.
We stayed at my parents house for a few months where my Mom called him Grandpa and he pretty much just slept on the couch most of the time, but was still able to get up and around and in & out of the doggy door even with the stairs without any problem. We moved into a duplex in November of '06 and that was when I noticed his increased difficulty in getting on the bed or couch.
At work, I happened to meet Dr. Judd, a local vet who I talked to about Fez's meds issue (Difficulty finding a vet that would RX me Xanax for a dog, understandably difficult..) and took all 3 dogs to him from then on. When I asked him about the head tremors and with Brody's history of a tumor with dirty margins, he speculated that he probably had a brain tumor. While we never did an MRI, all of the other findings led to that diagnosis as well.
I even bought those pet stairs that are used for dogs with mobility problems to get up into vehicles and onto furniture. He was content to sleep on his bed on the floor but when Dad wanted him in bed, we would go through the tradition of him getting his front end up and me lifting the back end, and he would instantly FLOP right where he was, which was usually my spot.
One day while I was living there, I heard a thud behind me, and he had fallen over. I thought he had lost his balance, and he seemed scared/confused by the whole thing, and so was I. I chalked up to clumsiness or just age, being that he was approximately 14 at this point. He got over it and I never really thought much about it.
I moved the 4 of us to College Station the following August. Things were pretty much the same for a while, although we did have another 'falling over' incident, which was a lot more scary (at least for me) this thime because it was obvious that he just fell over as if he was a cow being tipped.
2008 was the beginning of a bad year and a half for our family.
One day in April, I was getting ready for work. I had to be there at 4pm, and as I as sitting in my chair on the computer when I heard what sounded like smacking (lip smacking) and a *THUD*. I looked over at Brody who had fallen over in the hallway and was quite obviously having a major seizure. I went to him to make sure he didn't hurt himself, and he lost bladder control while smacking his mouth and flailing his feet. I almost lost bladder control in the process and it seemed like it lasted forever. In reality I don't know if it was 30 seconds or 3 minutes. All I knew was that I was terrified and I wanted it to stop.
When the seizure stopped, I made sure he was ok, and he was obviously confused, panting and wanted to get up right away. I helped him up and he started pacing aimlessly. I picked him up and tried to get him in the back seat but it was the old truck that didn't have a rear door so I put him in the bed of the truck and sped off to the nearest vet.
I had never been to this vet before, but I knew it was there, and it was less than a mile from my house. I sped in, parked illegally, grabbed Brody in my arms and ran for the door. The little Asian girl that was near the door at the time was obviously freaked out by the raving lunatic holding a dog and yelling at her because she tried to lock the door. When I yelled at her to OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR THIS IS AN EMERGENCY she relented and let me in. She put me in the nearest room, after I explained the situation (and apologized, but seriously who locks a door when you have someone obviously in distress with an animal in their arms??) and eventually the doctor came in. He did blood work, and said that it was probably transient and wouldn't happen again.
THe pacing was normal, but he recommended some herbal stuff at PetSmart that they use for anxiety. Once we got home he seemed to be better, and I went to work.
20 hours later he had another seizure. It was a Saturday but the same vet was open and I was able to take him over right away. He prescribed Phenobarb and also told me that the previous blood work was normal. He said to come back in 10-14 days and he would do a Phenobarb level to see if it's at the correct dosage.
I think he may have had one minor seizure (lip smacking, no loss of control otherwise) during that time. What I remember most is how weak it made him.
Poor Brody couldn't even get up on his own unless he was on the carpet. The hallways were tile, so the only place he was able to get up from was the bedroom. For the first week or 4 I had to use a towel wrapped around his mid-section to support him so he could even walk. This was an effect of the drugs, not the seizures, and it slowly improved.
My biggest ear during this time getting used to the meds was that he would get stuck outside, or worse - in the doggie door. He was always a tough guy. I know he could get up on the bed without help, it just took time and effort on his part. SO I knew that if he got stuck or fell down, he would eventually put out the effort to get back up.
I did see him get stuck in the door once, and it was really heart breaking to watch. He was my baby, and I didn't want to see him like that, but I was hoping for improvement.
His blood work came back as at a therapeutic level, so he kept the dosage where it was. HE continued to have seizures, though. I got no real explanation after that, but I began the thought process of this being the beginning of the end.
On May 17 (2008) I came home late at night after closing and going to Wal Mart. He was laying on the tile floor in the hallway just outside the dogs bedroom. (I had baby gates up to keep them out of the kitchen/living room)
He wagged his tail and was obviously happy to see me, but his head was tilted slightly to one side. I knew this was a bad sign. When Fez was going through a battery of tests while we were in Ohio, the vet there told me that the slight head tilt was a sign of a stroke.
I tried to help him up but he couldn't stand on his own, even though he had gotten adjusted to the meds to the point where he could stand/walk without assistance. He leaned over into the wall & slid back to the starting point, all while his tail is wagging, happy to see me. I got him up again and got him a few feet into the bedroom where there was carpet, but he still couldn't do it on his own.
That was the point that I felt it was time.
I called my boss (It was about 2am at this point) and told him that I was not going to be at work the next day. I then called the TAMU Vet ER and told them we were coming.
Unfortunately I knew this building all too well, (although I had never used this particular entrance before) with Fez over the last few months, and would continue to until we left CS.
Once again, I loaded him into the bed of the truck and we hauled ass to the vet. They took him back right away, and someone came out to talk about what was going on. (I'm pretty sure she was a student, but I'm not sure). I told her about his previous tumor, the partial diagnosis from Dr. Judd, the seizures and the head told and what Dr. Gregg told me that meant.
No idea how long it was before they came out, this time 3 of them. The first girl, another lady and ta male attending doc, I assume. He said that without an MRI that they couldn't tell for sure but it was one of 2 things: A) The brain tumor had grown to a point where it was pressing on other things and causing all this ruckus. B)He had a stroke. OK, DUH? The options were limited. They would keep him and use steroids to try & shrink the tumor and hope that stopped the process, or it would do nothing at all. or they could do blood work do see if he had a clot somewhere, both would be pricey. I knew when I went there that I was going home alone if either of these were presented as the options. Having just spent almost $10k on Fez, I didn't have the money to do it all over again, plus Brody was reaaaally old. He was between 15-18 which is old even for a small dog. When he mentioned the steroids, my reaction was (I remember this vividly) "But he still won't be able to walk to morrow, will he?" and the answer, as expected, was no.
I went ahead and told them to go forward with the euthanasia, and they sadly agreed that it was best.
Vets aren't allowed to give their opinion on when it's time to let go, but being people, they we can't help but put off a vibe when we are in agreement. They offered to do a paw print for me and would handle the cremation as well.
I was taken to the most horrible room in the hospital. The Euthanasia Room. Apparently that's all they do in there, because they have the Rainbow Bridge poem up as well as pamphlets on counseling services, the place that does the cremations and other stuff I can't remember. All very useful, but disgusting in that it has to exist in the first place.
They brought him in with the IV on a cart covered by a blanket. They told me that they hadn't given him anything at all, and that all they had done was put the IV in.
They say that you always just KNOW when it's time. Even saying the words out in the lobby I wasn't sure if I was doing the right thing. I had doubts.
Seeing him laying on that blanket he was obviously ready to go. He looked worn out, like we had just run 10 miles, if he could run. I knew then that it was definitely time. He was ready to go, he had done what he needed to do and it was time for him to move on.
Brody is still alive in these photos. This was prior to the injection.
Euthanasia consists of 2 injections. The first is to slow the brain function (Phenobarb, the same thing that he was getting for the seizures) and the 2nd is an anesthetic to stop the heart. He gave the first injection and that was all it took. He was gone before it was done being injected, but he had to complete the process for legal reasons, and just to make sure.
They left me with him for a few minutes. I wished it hadn't been as long as it was because I really just wanted to go home.
A couple of days later, I got a call from the guy that did the cremation and I had him have part of his ashes infused into a crystal heart. Once it was ready, I was able to pick it up at the original vet that I rushed him to. The next time I went to the TAMU hospital with Fez they gave me the foot imprint that they did before he was cremated.
We had been there for a couple of months and we started talking about getting another dog. We (mostly me) had helped out with the Greater Ohio Boxer Rescue while we were in Columbus and I said that we should definitely rescue as opposed to try & get a baby. We wanted one that was already house broken and had gotten through all the puppy issues, and ideally wanted another boy. (Until that point I had only ever had 1 girl dog and she was a real PITA..)
I had also been a member of the Boxer Mailing List, the largest (world wide) Boxer related ListServ around, so I had some contact with people that might be able to help us find one. I had been looking on Petfinder for weeks, and it seemed like every dog we were potentially interested in was only online for a day or 2 and they were adopted.
We got close, as there was a lady in Seattle that was also on the BML that was fostering a white Boxer named Murphy who was on PF. Unfortunately I didn't know that the dog on PF was the same one that she was fostering, or we might have ended up with him. We were sad initially that once again, he disappeared from the list just as we were about to start the process.
Right after that I got 2 emails about a dog 3 hours away. One of the BML admin's who lives in Phoenix emailed me about a senior dog in Wenatchee, and the next day a rescue lady (she did it on her own, not with any group) from 3 hours in another direction also emailed about the same dog. Initially I was like.. "Not just no, Hell no..I don't want an old dog". Boxers only live an average of 8-12 years, although I have seen them as old as 18(!!) but also be taken by natural means as early as 4. There was no way I was interested in adopting a dog that was going to die on us within a year of getting him.
I got another email from Maryanne, the lady in PHX, and she asked me to at least meet him, and that would also allow me to give a report to others out there about what his true state was, etc. if we weren't interested. We agreed to go out there and meet him, and decided that it was totally going to be up to Bosco. If Bosco didn't like him, there was no way wee were going to take him home.
We drove the 3 hours (1 way) to Wenatchee to meet "Jeremy", a 65lb Boxer mix (although his photo made him look like a pure bred Boxer). We were not prepared for what met us when we got there.
"Jeremy" was severely emaciated (even at 65lbs), had scabs on both ears and all over his face. He had what they called a "fatty tumor" on his left him that stuck out like a long, limp finger. He had about 10 broken teeth and several missing. He had been cleaned up, but when he arrived, he had maggots in his ears (Which I later found out actually was a good thing for him, since they kept it clean). He had been found by someone and they chained him to a tree and left him for several days before they called the HSUS to come and get him.
I went into an outdoor enclosed run with him and Jen and Bosco stayed on the outside so they could sniff each other, since we knew nothing about this other dog. He seemed almost not interested at first, although when one of the wardens came around he wagged his tail at her and was obviously happy to see her.. That was a good sign that he liked new people, even after a short time. We brought Bosco in and there really was nothing at first. It was uneventful, which was good. Bosco showed interest but Jeremy didn't really care. There was no fighting, so we spent more time trying to get to know him. HE warmed up and started paying more attention to us after a bit and we eventually let both of them off their leashes without incident.
We sort of reluctantly decided to take him home, partly because we knew he needed a lot of help and the closest person that would reluctantly take him was at least 3 hours away as well. We were prepared for the worst, but hoped for the best. We weren't concerned about him getting along with Bosco, just all the health problems as well as his age.
We asked about the adoption procedure, and WTF that was on his leg, and they assured us it was a benign fatty tumor.THey said he would need to be neutered before we could take him home as well as some other minor vet stuff. The vet they used said that she could take care of everything for us at once and save him having to go through anesthesia more than once, and we agreed that it would be best.
We paid the initial fee of $70 which included micro chip and neuter, and any additional vet bill would come to us later. On the way home we had to decide on a name. We decided to each come up with 3 names that we liked and then we would each pick one name to remove from the list.. By the time we got home, we had it narrowed down to 2 names. Baron or Brody.
3 days later I left work early to drive out to pick him up. He had been neutered, had the tumor removed (Although not sent to pathology) had 4 teeth removed, had his teeth cleaned and gotten all his shots. I wrote a check for another $400, and hoped that would be all for a while.
I learned that day that Brody had very weak back legs because he had 2 really bad knees. We didn't know if it was arthritis or 2 torn ACL's, but he never complained and he was still able to get up and around OK because he had so much more (than normal) strength in chest and front legs. He wasn't able to jump up onto things like the couch or bed (or in this case, the back of the Explorer) but he would get his front end up and stand there, wagging his tail and smiling at you while you lifted his back end up to get him up. It turned out to be a really endearing quality. (He could climb up by using his upper body strength provided the couch/bed/object was low enough to get his hind leg up.)
On the 3 hour drive home, we stopped a couple of times so he could go potty and we stopped to eat as well. He got french fries and at some point during that 3 hour drive, he decided that I was his Dad and nothing and no one would ever be more important to him than I was. I should also mention that this was October 10,2002. He was my early birthday present, and that would become his new birthday.
We tried crating him while we weren't home, but he broke the crate, and we took the risk and let him stay out and he never got into any trouble. I am sure his age had something to do with that. Bosco was locked in our bedroom and he was separated, but eventually we let both of them stay in there together and never had any problems.
There were a few accidents, but that's normal for a new dog in new surroundings. Plus we had to get him on a regular schedule. He and Bosco had to figure out who was boss, but we made sure we let Bosco know he was #1 dog and wouldn't let Brody mount him. Eventually they agreed on that and that was that.
Working in a hospital lab has its advantages. When the Histology supervisor heard that I was looking for a vet path lab, she offered to get the specimen ready to send off, saving at least $100 on the specimens for both testicles and the tumor. She also asked one of the Pathologist's to look at it, and he printed me an article to go along with it and referred me to a local vet pathologist to confirm, since he was a human Patho, not a vet.. What he did tell me was not good. The tumor was a Mast Cell tumor, probably grade 2 or 3 (the higher the number the more severe) and that they didn't get clean margins. Basically..It was cancer and they didn't get it all and it would probably come back. Mast cells are rogue cells that can land anywhere in the body and grow out of control.
We chose to not do anything further unless it grew back or caused more problems. He was too old, and we had already spent almost $500 to bring him home. We figured we would have him for 6 months and the cancer would take him, but we decided that it was going to be a good 6 months.
He also told me that one of his testicles had been ruptured sometime before and it was pretty much all scar tissue. Having had no history other than being chained to a tree where other dogs attacked him, we had to come up with out own hypothesis. When I would take him outside, if a big truck drove by he would always bark. He REALLY didn't like trucks. (Not big trucks like mine, we're talking dump drucks, semi's, etc..)
We figure that he was probably hit by a truck at some point, causing some of the trauma, possibly also injuring both knees. We never did X-Rays so we don't know if he had old broken bones that had healed, but we went with the "hit by car" theory for the rest of his life.
He was also terrified of fire. He hated candles, matches, lighters, or anything with a flame. We weren't sure if that was related to an incident, or if it was a natural aversion. Most dogs that live through fires are more afraid of smoke than flames, so we think it might be just that he didn't like it like some dogs don't like thunder or fireworks.
After about a month or so, we realized that he was deaf in his left ear. If he was laying on his right side you had to touch him or make sure he saw you or he wouldn't know you were there. We noticed this when oe was laying on his side with his back to the couch, sitting up. I was behind him where he couldn't see me and I dropped something, or there was a loud noise, and he turned his head to the right quickly (as if he heard it) and smacked his head into the couch. Once we stopped laughing, we tested it some more and figured out that he couldn't hear at all from his left ear and was hard of hearing in his right ear. Great. We had a 10+ year old arthritic, cancer-ridden deaf dog with 8 teeth. But he lubbed us (especially me) and we were OK with that.
It took a few months but he put on weight and got up to about 90 pounds. He was bigger than Bosco, especially his head. He was fawn with a black mask (Traditional Boxer markings) but his head was slightly more boxy than usual with a nose that was about 1/2-1" too long so we sort of figured he was part Mastiff as well.
Brody was the best judge of character that I ever met. He loved people, but if for some reason someone didn't like me, he hated them. There was a workman that came to the apartment for something and Brody snapped at him. I had never seen him act that way before, but apparently the guy was sketchy, at least Brody thought so. The other incident was with one of Jen's co-workers. I suspect (I have no proof) that he was trying to get between us because he wanted to be with Jen. I thought he was OK, but never really connected with him, and we even got into arguments (I don't remember what about) on more than one occasion. He was at our apartment for something, I think just to hang out, and Brody kept giving him the stink eye. I knew that look. It was the same look he gave the workman. He sat next to me and didn't budge, but when the guy reached in my direction, Brody snapped at him. I corrected him, and he settled down, but he never took his eyes off him. To this day, while I don't necessarily suspect Jen of cheating on me, I do suspect this guy of trying to get her to.
In February 2003, I took a transfer back to Columbus and we drove both vehicles, Jen with Bosco in her truck leading and me & Brody following. Unfortunately for us since weather patterns go east, the major snowstorm that was just east of the Cascades followed us the whole way. Did you know they actually close the highways in Wyoming during snowstorms? We had to pull off in Sundance, WY because it was shut down and we couldn't get through. It was only for a few hours and we were able to get out and on our way. The snow followed us all the way to the midwest, and we stopped in Peoria to see Jen's parents.
I left to go run an errand and they said that Brody cried and searched for me for an hour after I left. I'm glad I wasn't witness to that, because it would have really made me sad to see him upset like that. I knew than that he was extremely dedicated to me and that he'd always be my best buddy.
Over the next few months after we were in Columbus, he developed what we thought was a benign head tremor. I had seen other dogs with it, and the vet wasn't concerned. They don't know what causes them, but in hindsight, I suspect it was related to a brain tumor.
We bought the kennel in September 2003, but as you know we were separated within 6 months (Right around the time Lizzie was born) and Jen moved out in Fall of 2004. She took Bosco, as he had become such a Momma's boy that it was only fair to him that she get 'custody'. I still had Brody and the other dogs but even if she had wanted to take him, that was never an option.
After the fire, and throughout the re-building in 2005, I noticed him start to slow down. The head tremors were rare, but still occasionally there. He started sleeping about 22 hours a day, but occasionally got a little spark where he wanted to play.
I moved back to Waco in July 2006 hauling Brody, Fez, Lizzie and her oldest brother, Dillinger with me. Dillinger was going to live with my friends in Arkansas who had just lost a Boxer, and he's still with Ashley (They divorced) to this day.
We stayed at my parents house for a few months where my Mom called him Grandpa and he pretty much just slept on the couch most of the time, but was still able to get up and around and in & out of the doggy door even with the stairs without any problem. We moved into a duplex in November of '06 and that was when I noticed his increased difficulty in getting on the bed or couch.
At work, I happened to meet Dr. Judd, a local vet who I talked to about Fez's meds issue (Difficulty finding a vet that would RX me Xanax for a dog, understandably difficult..) and took all 3 dogs to him from then on. When I asked him about the head tremors and with Brody's history of a tumor with dirty margins, he speculated that he probably had a brain tumor. While we never did an MRI, all of the other findings led to that diagnosis as well.
I even bought those pet stairs that are used for dogs with mobility problems to get up into vehicles and onto furniture. He was content to sleep on his bed on the floor but when Dad wanted him in bed, we would go through the tradition of him getting his front end up and me lifting the back end, and he would instantly FLOP right where he was, which was usually my spot.
One day while I was living there, I heard a thud behind me, and he had fallen over. I thought he had lost his balance, and he seemed scared/confused by the whole thing, and so was I. I chalked up to clumsiness or just age, being that he was approximately 14 at this point. He got over it and I never really thought much about it.
I moved the 4 of us to College Station the following August. Things were pretty much the same for a while, although we did have another 'falling over' incident, which was a lot more scary (at least for me) this thime because it was obvious that he just fell over as if he was a cow being tipped.
2008 was the beginning of a bad year and a half for our family.
One day in April, I was getting ready for work. I had to be there at 4pm, and as I as sitting in my chair on the computer when I heard what sounded like smacking (lip smacking) and a *THUD*. I looked over at Brody who had fallen over in the hallway and was quite obviously having a major seizure. I went to him to make sure he didn't hurt himself, and he lost bladder control while smacking his mouth and flailing his feet. I almost lost bladder control in the process and it seemed like it lasted forever. In reality I don't know if it was 30 seconds or 3 minutes. All I knew was that I was terrified and I wanted it to stop.
When the seizure stopped, I made sure he was ok, and he was obviously confused, panting and wanted to get up right away. I helped him up and he started pacing aimlessly. I picked him up and tried to get him in the back seat but it was the old truck that didn't have a rear door so I put him in the bed of the truck and sped off to the nearest vet.
I had never been to this vet before, but I knew it was there, and it was less than a mile from my house. I sped in, parked illegally, grabbed Brody in my arms and ran for the door. The little Asian girl that was near the door at the time was obviously freaked out by the raving lunatic holding a dog and yelling at her because she tried to lock the door. When I yelled at her to OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR THIS IS AN EMERGENCY she relented and let me in. She put me in the nearest room, after I explained the situation (and apologized, but seriously who locks a door when you have someone obviously in distress with an animal in their arms??) and eventually the doctor came in. He did blood work, and said that it was probably transient and wouldn't happen again.
THe pacing was normal, but he recommended some herbal stuff at PetSmart that they use for anxiety. Once we got home he seemed to be better, and I went to work.
20 hours later he had another seizure. It was a Saturday but the same vet was open and I was able to take him over right away. He prescribed Phenobarb and also told me that the previous blood work was normal. He said to come back in 10-14 days and he would do a Phenobarb level to see if it's at the correct dosage.
I think he may have had one minor seizure (lip smacking, no loss of control otherwise) during that time. What I remember most is how weak it made him.
Poor Brody couldn't even get up on his own unless he was on the carpet. The hallways were tile, so the only place he was able to get up from was the bedroom. For the first week or 4 I had to use a towel wrapped around his mid-section to support him so he could even walk. This was an effect of the drugs, not the seizures, and it slowly improved.
My biggest ear during this time getting used to the meds was that he would get stuck outside, or worse - in the doggie door. He was always a tough guy. I know he could get up on the bed without help, it just took time and effort on his part. SO I knew that if he got stuck or fell down, he would eventually put out the effort to get back up.
I did see him get stuck in the door once, and it was really heart breaking to watch. He was my baby, and I didn't want to see him like that, but I was hoping for improvement.
His blood work came back as at a therapeutic level, so he kept the dosage where it was. HE continued to have seizures, though. I got no real explanation after that, but I began the thought process of this being the beginning of the end.
On May 17 (2008) I came home late at night after closing and going to Wal Mart. He was laying on the tile floor in the hallway just outside the dogs bedroom. (I had baby gates up to keep them out of the kitchen/living room)
He wagged his tail and was obviously happy to see me, but his head was tilted slightly to one side. I knew this was a bad sign. When Fez was going through a battery of tests while we were in Ohio, the vet there told me that the slight head tilt was a sign of a stroke.
I tried to help him up but he couldn't stand on his own, even though he had gotten adjusted to the meds to the point where he could stand/walk without assistance. He leaned over into the wall & slid back to the starting point, all while his tail is wagging, happy to see me. I got him up again and got him a few feet into the bedroom where there was carpet, but he still couldn't do it on his own.
That was the point that I felt it was time.
I called my boss (It was about 2am at this point) and told him that I was not going to be at work the next day. I then called the TAMU Vet ER and told them we were coming.
Unfortunately I knew this building all too well, (although I had never used this particular entrance before) with Fez over the last few months, and would continue to until we left CS.
Once again, I loaded him into the bed of the truck and we hauled ass to the vet. They took him back right away, and someone came out to talk about what was going on. (I'm pretty sure she was a student, but I'm not sure). I told her about his previous tumor, the partial diagnosis from Dr. Judd, the seizures and the head told and what Dr. Gregg told me that meant.
No idea how long it was before they came out, this time 3 of them. The first girl, another lady and ta male attending doc, I assume. He said that without an MRI that they couldn't tell for sure but it was one of 2 things: A) The brain tumor had grown to a point where it was pressing on other things and causing all this ruckus. B)He had a stroke. OK, DUH? The options were limited. They would keep him and use steroids to try & shrink the tumor and hope that stopped the process, or it would do nothing at all. or they could do blood work do see if he had a clot somewhere, both would be pricey. I knew when I went there that I was going home alone if either of these were presented as the options. Having just spent almost $10k on Fez, I didn't have the money to do it all over again, plus Brody was reaaaally old. He was between 15-18 which is old even for a small dog. When he mentioned the steroids, my reaction was (I remember this vividly) "But he still won't be able to walk to morrow, will he?" and the answer, as expected, was no.
I went ahead and told them to go forward with the euthanasia, and they sadly agreed that it was best.
Vets aren't allowed to give their opinion on when it's time to let go, but being people, they we can't help but put off a vibe when we are in agreement. They offered to do a paw print for me and would handle the cremation as well.
I was taken to the most horrible room in the hospital. The Euthanasia Room. Apparently that's all they do in there, because they have the Rainbow Bridge poem up as well as pamphlets on counseling services, the place that does the cremations and other stuff I can't remember. All very useful, but disgusting in that it has to exist in the first place.
They brought him in with the IV on a cart covered by a blanket. They told me that they hadn't given him anything at all, and that all they had done was put the IV in.
They say that you always just KNOW when it's time. Even saying the words out in the lobby I wasn't sure if I was doing the right thing. I had doubts.
Seeing him laying on that blanket he was obviously ready to go. He looked worn out, like we had just run 10 miles, if he could run. I knew then that it was definitely time. He was ready to go, he had done what he needed to do and it was time for him to move on.
Brody is still alive in these photos. This was prior to the injection.
Euthanasia consists of 2 injections. The first is to slow the brain function (Phenobarb, the same thing that he was getting for the seizures) and the 2nd is an anesthetic to stop the heart. He gave the first injection and that was all it took. He was gone before it was done being injected, but he had to complete the process for legal reasons, and just to make sure.
They left me with him for a few minutes. I wished it hadn't been as long as it was because I really just wanted to go home.
A couple of days later, I got a call from the guy that did the cremation and I had him have part of his ashes infused into a crystal heart. Once it was ready, I was able to pick it up at the original vet that I rushed him to. The next time I went to the TAMU hospital with Fez they gave me the foot imprint that they did before he was cremated.