My dog has a 1-foot square bald spot on his rear.
It’s the latest in 6 months of veterinary adventures. Big Doodle has had ozone pumped into his bladder. He’s on a ton of vitamins. We’ve totally revamped his diet, which now consists of these giant chubs full of raw meat dog food. My Guy and I refer to it as “Swiss Colony Beef Log.” It is … almost indescribable in its awesomeness/grotesqueness.
But in the midst of all this A-plus, driving-to-the-speciality-vet-40-minutes-away-once-a-week care, my number 1 giant dog started to attack himself. He chewed a series of hot spots on his hips, tail, and rear. The vet thought it might be a symptom of toxins leaving our boy’s body. After all, his bladder cancer seems to be … silent? In my fantasies, it’s skulked back from whence it came. At any rate, he isn’t peeing blood anymore, and seems to feel great.
Except for the chewing.
He’s on holistic pain meds. I put Rescue Remedy in his water. And we’d go days without an incident. And then, I’d run to the grocery and come home to find blood all over the baseboards and a dog with a giant, oozing wound of his own making.
At least part of it is anxiety. He doesn’t do it when his people are around. When we’re around, he’s his usual, happy self. And so, I feel like I can’t leave him. But dude, I do need to go to the grocery. The people gots to eat.
On Thanksgiving, he chewed a new spot during a 30-minute ride in the back of our truckasaurus. I wanted to cry. And scream. “Dude! I am doing everything humanly possible to help you! I carve up Swiss Colony Beef Log on the regular without puking! You gotta help me out here!”
And then I decided that maybe in addition to being happy, he was just really stressed. And this time of year, aren’t we all? After all, I cannot deny that I sat in my MIL’s bathroom for a few extra minutes on Thanksgiving. I was happy, but I was stressed. Sometimes, you’re just desperate for a moment of peace.
Maybe being the poster dog for holistic cancer treatments is really stressful. Maybe my gentle giant has just had it and needs an outlet. Maybe Big Doodle and I aren’t that different. I get brittle and snappish and my right shoulder tenses up like Quasimodo. He chews hair and skin off his ass. We’re basically the same person!
I’m getting a massage tomorrow. And Big Doodle got his ass shaved, which has evidently provided immense relief. We’re all just doing the best we can.
So, take care of yourselves, my sweet friends. Hopefully that doesn’t mean getting a 1-foot square area of your rear end shaved, but if that’s what does it for you, go for it.