Pip's Story
| We called him
Pip, named for the main character in Great Expectations. It seemed a fitting name - short,
distinct consonants, easy to understand, easy to learn. At 8 weeks of age and a whopping
1.2 pounds, it sometimes seemed more appropriate to call him Pip Squeak or Little Man, and
we sometimes did so affectionately. Pip was born hydrocephalic, which I have come to learn, is not altogether uncommon in some breeds of dogs, including Chihuahuas. Hydrocephalic dogs are born with skulls that do not form or close properly. An afflicted dog may suffer from water on the brain, retardation, swelling of the head, seizures, blindness, and death. It is not however, an automatic death sentence as many dogs can experience relatively normal lives and longevity if they receive proper medical treatment as well as love and care. The person who left Pip at the Humane Society claimed to have found him abandoned and could not keep him. The more probable story is that somebody, realizing they had a defective pup on their hands, dumped him at the Humane Society. In our disposable society, it is often easier to discard responsibility than to deal with it and many people do just that. Many shelters do not have the resources to care for special needs animals and this puppy was going to require a considerable commitment of time and money. Usually it is decided that animals in such condition be humanely euthanized. Pip, however, was lucky enough to be rescued by CRT coordinator, Robin, who happened to be at the shelter rescuing another Chihuahua. Robin asked my husband and me if we would be interested in fostering Pip. We fostered a hydrocephalic Chihuahua once before. CRT successfully placed this dog in a wonderful, loving home thus proving how worthwhile the effort was to save him. I met Robin after work to pick Pip up and take him home. He was a tiny bundle of brown fuzz cuddled asleep in her lap. He was a long hair chi with beautiful coloring and probably the smallest baby I had ever seen. He had the effect of touching our hearts as soon as we each had seen him. Then, when we arrived home and my husband Greg saw him, it was love at first sight again. Later that evening, after having spent some time with Pip, Robin and I chatted on the phone and we knew we had done the right thing trying to save this puppy. The first order of business was to get the seizures associated with his condition under control. Fortunately, the Phenobarbital prescribed by the vet for his seizures worked effectively and provided him immediate relief. The focus then shifted to the swelling on his brain. To mitigate the effects of the swelling, Pip was placed on Pediapred, the children's version of prednisone, which has analgesic, anti-inflammatory properties. Due to Pip's hydrocephalus, we had to be very, very careful that he not bang his head on anything and risk additional swelling. This was challenging since his hind legs were very weak and he was almost completely blind. It was clear he'd need a lot of safe exercise to strengthen his hind legs. The solution was to build him a "run" made out of pillows. This way, he could move about and explore without risk. Greg and I would also sit on floor, across the room from each other and call Pip back and forth between us. This was how he learned his name. Pip continued to do well for the next several weeks. His next visit to the vet confirmed weight gain and increased strength. The instructions were to keep going as we had been. It seemed to be working. Greg had shared Pip's stories and updates with a few friends from work. One colleague seemed particularly interested in his situation and had discussed him with her sister who happened also to be a veterinary technician. Unbelievably, the vet tech wanted to adopt him! What better home for a special needs animal provided all other CRT requirements were met. The plan was for us to continue working with him to improve his strength and coordination while she initiated the application process. Once he was strong enough and the application approved, Pip would go to a wonderful home that would continue to give him the care and love he deserved. Greg and I were very happy about all this but as with all of our foster babies, there is a tinge of sadness when they leave us. We continued with our regimen of exercise and medication. Whether it was a gradual decline and I hadn't noticed or there was a significant setback overnight, I'm not sure I can say. Our worst fears came to life when we realized Pip was getting worse, not better. However, we were going to continue to give it our best shot to see if we could turn the situation back on a positive course. I was looking forward to spending the long 4th of July weekend with him tomonitor his progress. His prospective adoptive "mom" was going to come out to see him that holiday Monday. It was a dismal weekend as he continued to decline. We had begun feeding him baby food from a syringe as well as his water. He could no longer pull himself onto his feet and instead lay on his side. There seemed to be more swelling in his head and our vet advised us to adjust his medications in an attempt to alleviate the pressure. All we could do was hope for the best. Greg and I placed his little bed in our bed between us that weekend so that we could check on him during the night. It was comforting to him and to us that he was there. By Monday, I told Greg to let the interested adopter know not to come out to see him that day. In his condition of decline, I was scheduling a vet appointment for him. Robin and I spoke several times that weekend and we discussed what we should next. We both agreed that if there were any hope, we would continue to work to save him. If there were not, we would face the decision that all pet lovers dread. I called our vet that Monday and left a message regarding Pip's condition. Due to a variety of animal emergencies that holiday, it was later in the afternoon before he was able to return the call. I have to admit I was relieved that it was too late for an appointment that day and that I would have another night with Pip before facing any decisions. Greg and I sat outside that evening. It was a little cooler than most evenings with a nice breeze. We took Pip outside in his bed and sat under a shade tree. Pip's little nose seemed to sniff the air as he took in the smells and sounds of being outside. We sat out there for a long time. It is a nice memory of sharing that time with him. The next day came way too soon. It was a workday so Pip's doctor appointment was scheduled for 6:30 p.m. Greg and I spent time with him that evening before going to see our vet. Greg had tried to feed him some baby food with the syringe but he refused to eat. Things didn't seem good but we were determined to remain hopeful. But after examining Pip, Dr. S. confirmed what we deep down already knew. He had gotten worse and the swelling had increased. He wasn't getting blood circulation to his ears and forehead. He was a profoundly affected little puppy. I asked the question, "How long will he live if we continue on as we are"? His response, "Days, two weeks at the maximum". Then, the question that had been asked before, "Is he in pain". His answer, "I cannot assure you that he is not in pain". One always doubts oneself when faced with a life and death decision like this. I just couldn't bear to let him go on like that. He had been doing so well and this seemed to happen so fast. I blamed myself that I hadn't noticed the subtle changes. I hoped I had done everything right and had given him every chance. Anyway, I decided that he couldn't go on like that. Dr. S. administered 2 injections, first - a regular anesthesia that put him into a very deep, unconscious sleep. Even in sleep, he responded to our caresses by breathing a little faster. In my heart I know he knew we were there with him. Then, after we held him, kissed him, told him what a good boy he was, and said goodbye, he administered the injection that stopped his heart. I held him the whole time, until it was over. We wrapped him in his baby blanket and carried him home in his little bed. Greg buried him under the tree outside our kitchen window. We're going to plant something special there and he has a little name marker that reads, "Pip - beloved, gentle friend". That way I can still think of him everyday when I look out the window. This is his story. It is told so you will know that
there was a tiny little man named Pip. Pip, here but a short while, touched many
hearts, was loved very much, whose little life mattered very much. |
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This page was created to honor Pip's memory.
All of us at CRT would like to thank Pam and Greg for taking such wonderful care of
Pip.
