about a year ago, it seemed like something was wrong with Baxter.
Our normal low-energy pet dog ended up being lethargic.
We went through lots of tests, tried different medications, consulted several specialists, faced various symptoms and never received a conclusive diagnosis.
As I shared in my last post, Baxter died at the end of May. In the last weeks of his life, he established what our vets called intra-cranial disease. It manifested as a form of pet dog dementia or canine cognitive dysfunction (CCD). I am sharing an introduction to CCD together with our year-long journey today.
What is Canine Cognitive Dysfunction? (Dog Dementia)
Canine cognitive dysfunction, or pet dog dementia, is a neurological condition that impacts some dogs as they age. Abnormalities develop in their brains and cause behaviour changes.
Eileen Anderson is an author and pet dog owner. In her guide to CCD, she supplies a in-depth list of symptoms.
Symptoms of pet dog dementia
Disorientation
Interactions with people and other family pets that have changed
Sleep-wake alterations
House soiling
Activity-level alterations
Memory and learning problems
Appetite changes
Anxiety and depression
For Baxter, lethargy was the first symptom we observed. As his health problem progressed, he needed to go outside for shower room breaks a lot more frequently. He ended up being weak and had trouble going from lying to standing on his own.
We also experienced appetite changes. He lost interest in his kibble, so we changed to a raw diet. He liked it… for a few months. Eventually, he lost the ability to eat on his own, and I fed him by hand for several months. In the last weeks, he did not know how to eat or drink, and I fed him by syringe.
Disorientation
Disorientation is a common CCD symptom that we also experienced. An post on The Bark says, “Dogs may pace back and forth or in circles [I had observed Baxter turning and turning multiple times before laying down—a new behaviour for him—for several months before he died], get lost in familiar places, walk into walls or corners or other tight areas and stay there, appear lost or confused, wait at the “hinge” side of the door to go out, or fail to get out of the way when someone opens a door.”
We experienced all of these. I spent a lot of time gently pulling and pushing Baxter out of corners and guiding him back to his bed or through the door.
Difficult to diagnose
CCD can be tough to diagnose. Anderson notes, “Every symptom on those listings could also be a symptom of another disease or condition. brain tumors, certain liver conditions, tickborne diseases, and other conditions can cause similar symptoms. Diagnosing canine cognitive dysfunction indicates ruling those other things out. It’s called a diagnosis of exclusion, and it takes a vet to do the proper tests to do that.”
Like dementia in humans, there is no remedy for pet dog dementia. but there are methods to manage CCD once your pet dog is diagnosed.
Drugs and foods can help to slow progression of the disease or manage symptoms for some dogs. As well, lifestyle modifications will be necessary, like finding methods to keep your pet dog active, supplying him with enrichment to stimulate his brain and making your house a safe environment.
Ultimately, pet owners will likely be dealt with with euthanizing their dog, as his quality of life deteriorates and his bodily functions become a lot more and a lot more impaired by this disease.
Below, I share our experience with pet dog dementia, from the onset of Baxter’s symptoms to his death a year later.
Something Is Not Right
Baxter started acting not like himself in the late spring of 2019. never energetic, he ended up being lethargic. He didn’t want to go on walks or even walk around inside the house very much. He just lay in his bed and slept.
Baxter seemed to be drinking a bit more, peeing a bit a lot more and always hungry.
When we went to the vet, their first suspicion was Cushing’s disease. They took blood and urine samples and found his urine was very diluted. We did a lot more tests, including those frequently used to discover Cushing’s. a few of Bax’s results matched, but others didn’t.
After putting Bax through lots of vet sees over the summer and spending a fair amount of money, we had not found a solution. considering that Bax didn’t seem to be in pain or other distress, we made a decision to take a break and accept the lethargy.
We changed from kibble to a raw diet, which he liked, but didn’t improve his energy. As noted above, diet is one of the few choices to manage symptoms and slow progression of CCD.
It’s Still Not Right
Wereturned to the vet in March 2020. Baxter seemed to be even a lot more lethargic, and he had started asking to go outside for the shower room in the middle of the night. He also seemed to have established a pot belly, one of the symptoms of Cushing’s.
When he stepped on the scale, I was blown away. Our normal 60 pound pet dog weighted 82 pounds. We had not been over-feeding him, and he didn’t look fat. The vet tech explained him as “puffy” around his neck and on his belly. one of my guesses is that his lack of activity had resulted in weight gain.
Maybe it’s Cushing’s disease
The vet ran the same tests as before and the results were the same as before—inconclusive. They also took an x-ray, which showed Bax’s joints, particularly his hips, were in bad shape. but that didn’t answer the rest of what was going on.
Our vet made a decision to try a very low dose of Vetoryl, a common Cushing’s medication. Vetoryl can have some very severe side effects, so we were very cautious.
We didn’t see an improvement. In fact, on the medication, Baxter stopped eating. Eventually, he established diarrhea (one of the symptoms our vet told us to enjoy out for), so we stopped the Vetoryl.
Maybe it’s his thyroid
Our vet suggested trying a thyroid medication.
Again, we didn’t see an improvement, and Baxter’s appetite continued to decline.
I started to hand feed him. I could get him to eat the amount of food he was meant to but it took all the time and into the evening for him to eat it all. Baxter was able to drink on his own and needed to go out to pee quite frequently including through the night.
He weakened, whether from not eating or from lack of activity. He had trouble standing up, and we laid mats around the house to help him get traction on the wood floors.
Our barn cat Ralph, kept a close eye on Baxter when he came outside
By now, it was mid-April and we were in a COVID-19 quarantine. Our vet wished to refer us for an ultrasound and for a seek advice from with another specialist. We live near one of the top veterinary colleges in Canada, but they, like a lot of vet clinics, were only taking care of emergencies. Our choices were very limited.
After waiting several weeks, our vet found a specialty clinic in Toronto—more than an hour away—that would see us.
More tests and an ultrasound
I really desired an ultrasound. having gone through liver metastases with my husband, Matt, just a few months ago, all I could think was that Baxter had tumours in his liver and that was why his stomach was bulging.
An ultrasound was part of our appointment at the speciality hospital. and everything was clear. good news in some ways. but bad news because we still had no answer. The internal medicine specialist explained that often the stomach can become distended just because the muscles are not as strong as they once were. given Bax’s lack of activity, this made sense and provided me some reassurance that his pot stomach wasn’t a symptom of some horrible condition.
The ultrasound showed that his adrenal gland was slightly enlarged, but, like our family vet, the specialists were not offered on Cushing’s. They also redid all of the blood work and did a urine culture to inspect for a urinary tract infection. His bloodwork showed that one of his liver enzymes was slightly elevated. The urine culture showed no bacteria.
We had a lot more information, but still had no answer.
Psychological Considerations
In my rundown to the specialist, I increased the possibility that Baxter’s condition might be psychological.
Matt had died in November. The onset of Baxter’s symptoms, in lots of ways, coincided with Matt’s own decline. Dogs are sensitive creatures, and Baxter had shadowed Matt a lot over his last months.
After Matt died, there then was a substantial hole in our family and immense unhappiness in our house.
I felt that psychology likely didn’t describe all of Baxter’s symptoms, but I desired it to be considered as the physicians examined him.
Complications
The appointment at the specialty clinic was hard. given COVID-19, I couldn’t go in with Bax. He doesn’t like the vet, and I feel like being with him assisted him get through the appointments. and the appointment ended up being much longer than I expected. I had brought work and snacks and organized to sit in the automobile while he was in the clinic.
But they wished to do additional tests, and they had to sedate him for the ultrasound, so they needed to monitor him once he woke up. I drove home and made plans to pick him up later. later ended up being much later—well into the evening.
The clinic staff had trouble getting him to get up from the sedation, so they kept him for observation and really hoped he’d come out of it. Eventually, they provided me the option to bring him home and let him sleep it off here.
When I shown up at the clinic I was stunned. It took two techs to walk him out to the car. They had a towel slung under his stomach to support him. He was so groggy and disoriented he couldn’t walk. and the ultrasound had been hours ago.
I got him home and into the house. He slept, though he whimpered pretty consistently for about two days straight.
Bax’s crying had started at the clinic, leading the staff to think his joints were bothering him a lot more than I realized. They provided us some Gabapentin for pain relief.
Neurological Symptoms become Obvious
After a few days, Baxter eventually stopped whimpering and regained the ability to walk—though I did not give him the Gabapentin. We had new symptoms that were a lot more concerning. It seemed like he had pet dog dementia.
He was very disoriented and got lost in the house. He walked ideal as much as the wall, into corners or dead ends (beside the toilet for example) and then stood there for several minutes. I needed to guide him through the house and often physically lay him down on his bed.
Ellie thought it was fun to help Baxter go behind her curtains
He stopped eating and mostly stopped drinking. It seemed like he did not know what to make with his mouth. He understood enough to go to his water bowl, but then he just stood there. When he did try to drink, it appeared like he was trying to chew the water rather than lap it.
I was able to feed him by syringe. Our vet provided us some Cernia to try to stimulate his appetite, but he had no idea how to take food from a bowl or even from my hand.
Between his test results and new behaviours, our family vet as well as the specialist suspected there was something neurological going on.
The specialty healthcare facility included a neurological team, and they suggested we make another appointment. However, given Bax’s reaction to the appointment and/or medication, I did not want to put him through another appointment.
Our family vet agreed. We had a long, compassionate, sensible conversation about possible diagnoses and treatment options, and he encouraged that our choices were likely few.
Helping Baxter
I organized to keep feeding Bax and assisting him however I could. The next two weeks were challenging.
Baxter spent a lot of of his time lying down. When he did get up, he was confused and lost.
I diluted his food as much as possible to try to keep him hydrated. He took the syringe without protest and was able to go outside for the bathroom. I blocked off the stairs to the basement so that he didn’t fall.
I was regularly listening for him, inspecting on him and tracking him. Did he need help getting up? Did he need to go outside? could I get him to eat a bit a lot more food? Was he stuck somewhere? could I guide him back to bed and get him to lay down again?
One day he complied with me down to our pond. I was delighted that he felt as much as walking a bit more. but when we got to the shore, he just kept walking. ideal into the water. Baxter has never swam in the whole time he dealt with us. As I prepared to jump into the water to help him, I found he could in fact swim. I was able to coax him back to shore and as much as the house where I towelled him off and guided him inside and back to his bed.
Reaching The End
Toward the end of May, I finally felt that Bax was not getting any pleasure or fulfillment out of his days. He was not engaging with us or his surroundings. I felt that he didn’t recognize me anymore.
I called the vet and made an appointment for him to be put down.
Despite still being mostly under quarantine, I feel very grateful that the vet was ready to find to our farm, and I was able to bring Baxter outside and he was euthanized here at home.
On Baxter’s last morning, Ralph kept him company as he slowly walked alo