A Good Dog's Story: A Small Miracle

Courageous but suffering on Thursday

Julie is my shadow, a loving but watchful companion, a big black good dog. Noble. Her courage has been tested this week; mine too. But we came through.

Together. Thanks to all of you who reached out with support, prayers, white light, and incredible advice.

At the vet, Friday. Nervous. Both of us.

Because of you, I knew what to ask, meds to request, types of tests, how to approach Julie's management. Knowing you had the same or similar experiences made it easier, somehow. I wasn't alone. You inspired me with your stories. You gave me much-needed courage.

Without you, I do not think I would have held together, dealing with humidity and the llamas, a broken water main, the AC that failed, and Julie not walking, all on the same day. A lot to manage.

Asking for the help she was given. Almost a miracle.

Yesterday, the vets saw her again. Now all 3 vets had examined her, consulted, and spent at least an hour with her each visit. With us. They are wonderful vets, and one of them said she had 2 GSDs who had manifested the same symptoms who turned out to have thyroid problems, so we tested her for that. You guessed it. Julie is hypothyroid. By 11 PM yesterday, with only 1 pill in her system, there was a difference.

Resting after our normal walk to the pond.

Today, I have my dog back. Julie may never be 100%. She never had a perfect hind end and from a distance, ambling up and down our many hills, she looked more like a bear. Was taken for one, once. But she's back. Walking. I still need to help her up. Might have to always, but we have a rhythm going and we each know what we have to do. I tell her, OK, Jules, let's do it. I lift her back end with a towel, and she handles her front. It works. Once she's up, she can go.

You can see her back right leg isn't "right," but she's standing.

Tonight, it felt so good, for both of us I think, that she could be the dog she wants to be. Sniffing, stopping to smell her spots without falling down. Barking at nothing, just to let the world know she's herself again, living in the moment. Being a dog.

Thank you.

And there's something else. When I was waiting for news, knowing I might have to make a difficult decision, I got my phone out and opened Facebook. I read your prayers and asked God to use your prayers to help my dog. And I asked for some of the white light that calms, because I tried not to use it all up during my eye surgery. Suddenly, my dog stood up, and continued to stand and walk on the slippery tile. I am not exaggerating. The whole office watched. The dog that needed help into the visit walked out on her own power. Or yours. Or prayers, white light. Or God's intervention. A small miracle.

Thank you so very much. Feel our joy, gratitude. Happiness.

She's still walking.