Canine epilepsy - Greyhound Zoom

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We had lunch with our dear friend Julia today.

Julia is a naturally happy person. She comes sheathed in an aura of positive radiance. She tells great stories about a life thoroughly lived. And when she laughs, the world laughs with her.

Julia is a true friend, and when we catch up everyone asks a million questions about what the other person is doing. Everything important, and not so important, in our lives is covered.

When we see Julia, it’s a thorough catching-up.

One subject almost didn’t get covered today, however. It was not until we were saying goodbye that Julia suddenly said, “How are the dogs?”

“Fine,” said Little Boss, “although Scratchy has had a couple of big seizures this week.”

“Seizures?” said Julia, looking puzzled.

“You didn’t know that Scratchy is epileptic?” I asked.

Julia shook her head, and we all looked at each other for a moment. What else is there to say?

“Perhaps,” said Julia, “you should call him Twitchy instead of Scratchy.”

We love Julia. We really do.

Just as well.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Canine epilepsy, Canine health

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Perfect, almost

April 21st 2011 22:53

Did I tell you about the day I ran into a particularly tough and aggressive blade of grass?

I try not to think of Scratchy as impaired. That he’s epileptic, accident-prone and dumber than your average football boot are indisputable, but that’s okay because he’s utterly lovable. In a goofy kind of way.

Of course he’s lovable. He’s my dog.

These thoughts went through my head this morning as I watched Scratchy run. It’s not something we get to see very often – we don’t have any completely enclosed dog parks near us, and Scratchy can not be trusted off the lead in any unenclosed space. Let Scratchy off the lead and he won’t stop running until he reaches Jupiter, and then only to pause by a fire hydrant.

However, my wife, in that way she has of creating practical opportunities from life, had an idea. Driving past a nearby Australian football oval (think grass; think twice the area of an association football pitch or a gridiron field), she noticed that this one was fenced the whole way around.

And so it was that, not so long after dawn on this bright, brisk autumn morning, we loaded Scratchy and Daisy into the car and drove to the football oval. There was no-one there. We strolled through the gate, closed it securely, and let the dogs off the lead.

Daisy gets a run most mornings. She can be trusted to run with the other dogs in our neighbourhood dog park because she will come when called. Off the lead this morning, Daisy trotted away to explore the new environment.

Then I removed Scratchy’s lead. At first he look a little dazed. Then, slowly, he leaned on me.

It took a while, and a few calls from Little Boss sprinting into the vast, green distance, for the message to filter through to Scratchy that he was in an open space and unfettered.

Then he bolted. First he sprinted around the perimeter of the oval, perhaps looking for an escape path to Jupiter, and then he played chasey with Daisy – for her the first time in a long time she has run with a dog that can run faster than her. During all this, the look on Scratchy’s face was a joy to see. His eyes shone, his tongue lolled, his every fibre laughed and sang.

It was while watching this unfold that the irony of the situation occurred to me: it’s only when I see this gentle goofball doing what he does best – running like 3,000 years of genetic streamlining decree that he can do – that I think of him as impaired.

My wife and I had shining eyes too as we watched Scratchy rocket over the turf. It was on another such morning, in another place, that he went down screaming, somehow having managed to turn a fun run into a compound fracture, plus a snapped ligament, of a hind leg.

But not today. Today was wonderful. Today I pushed aside thoughts of epilepsy and accidents and watched Scratchy run.

That’s my dog.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Canine epilepsy

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Cone call

January 14th 2010 21:05

Part 2 of the story started yesterday: Halo from hell

A dog cone collar, also known as an Elizabethan collar or a space collar, comes in a variety of sizes and colours. Some have padded neck areas for extra comfort, some are fully padded for extra status, and you can buy special stickers so the kids can get involved.

There is no name, model, style, colour or decoration, however, which has ever won approval from a single dog or cat.

Late on the first day of Scratchy's one-month sentence of wearing a cone collar, he negotiated his way out the door into the backyard. He took a deep-breath of sweet evening air foully scented with plastic from his cone collar, and decided to walk around the side of the house. This narrow alley, barely wide enough for two greyhounds to pass each other, is Scratchy's favourite toilet spot.

I don't know how long he stood there, unable to turn around because of the huge cone on his head, before I found him and helped him out. That's when I decided to find an alternative to the cone, which was disturbing me almost as much as it was clearly disturbing Scratchy.

We have in our household a pair of ladies silk pajamas. Of the softest texture, and the softest sky blue, they were bought many years ago in Hong Kong's famous Stanley Market, and served their mistress faithfully. I found them in the laundry, in the rag bag.

I cut about six inches off a trouser leg. I slipped this over Scratchy's wounded leg, wrapped the top end of the silk tightly just above the knee, and secured it with a liberal application of medical gauze.

We now had a covered wound, meaning Scratchy couldn't lick it, but open at the bottom, which means air could get in.

He's been wearing it for two days now and, while he's had a little nibble at the gauze, he hasn't been able to undo it, and he hasn't been able to get at the wound, which has dried out and is healing nicely. Scratchy shook his leg a few times initially when walking, but has become used to it. He even wore his blue silk leg skirt to the park this morning, and acted unfazed and indifferent when Daisy sniggered.

The plastic cone collar, meanwhile, sits discarded in a corner of the shed. I hope I never see it again.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Canine epilepsy, Canine health

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Scratchy's diary: raw and sore

January 4th 2010 05:28

I woke up in a funny place recently. No familiar faces, no Short Black and no Bosses. Just some cats in cages and the smell of disinfectant. There were some people I didn't know, some dressed in green and some dressed in white, but they were no more generous than Big Boss when it came to supplying food.

The thing is, I woke up sore. All my muscles were stiff, like I'd been running 40 kilometres instead of 400 metres. And I had raw, sore patches on my front legs, like I'd been banging them on something.

The green and white people talked about epilepsy whenever they were near me. I'm not sure what that is. Maybe it's like being hit by a car. The people put lots of ointments and bandages on my legs, which was stupid because it made them hard to lick better. But the bandages are gone now and the legs are healing quickly.

They are a lot better than they they look in these pictures taken yesterday. I'm not sure why Big Boss got the camera out. He said something about being in a funny position around the cushion. I don't see what's so funny about it. I was just giving it a fluff before having a nap.

Anyway, I want to wish you all a speedy and waggy new year. Oh, and watch your knees. Or you might end up in a strange place surrounded by cats and strangers.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Canine epilepsy, Dog Diaries, Scratchy

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The end of an epilepsy tale

January 2nd 2010 00:56

Every day, as the evening shadows lengthen, as the birds settle into their nests and families everywhere gather after their day of work, Scratchy chases his tail.

It is one of the two things he does to remind me that it is dinner time. The other is to stand and stare in my direction with a direct, concentrated gaze that says, "I am in danger of passing out with hunger, my blood sugar levels are low, my bone marrow is screaming for sustenance and the clock on the wall is 37 minutes slow."

When that doesn't work, he gets bored and chases his tail. It's a desultory chase, as if to indicate that he could do better if only he had the energy which comes with a large dinner, and it rarely lasts more than a minute. Then he returns to staring at me, with occasional, meaningful glances at the clock.

Scratchy hasn't chased his tail for almost two weeks, however, since his massive epilepsy scare. During attacks, the muscles seize, and after multiple attacks, those muscles are very sore indeed. This is bad enough for normal dogs, but in the physiology of a greyhound, there is little which isn't muscle.

It is with much delight, therefore, that I can report that, this morning, Scratchy chased his tail. I assume he was practicing for a return to his habitual late afternoon tail-chasing regime. Either that, or the clock on the wall really is very wrong.

But I choose to believe that he chased his tail just because he found, after two weeks of recuperation, that he felt good enough to do something spontaneously energetic. Whatever the reason, if he can chase his tail, I can now pronounce him full recovered.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Canine epilepsy, Canine health

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Nightmare

December 31st 2009 02:30

We nearly lost Scratchy. It happened more than a week ago and if I haven't written about it yet it's because it was one of the more traumatic things I have seen. It was also all my fault.

Scratchy is epileptic. He had his first seizure just weeks after we got him about two years ago, and he has been on medication ever since. Every morning and evening he bears with us, in his perennially good-natured way, as we prise his jaws open and drop tablets into the back of his throat

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Canine epilepsy, Canine health

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Pets, in sickness and in health

February 27th 2009 11:29

I have had some bad luck with dogs

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: German shepherd, Greyhound, Canine epilepsy, Canine health

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Our boy

December 21st 2008 02:16

Our boy's name is Scratchy. His dad was a champion racing greyhound in Ireland and his mum was a champion racing greyhound in Australia. He was one of a litter of eight and his seven brothers and sisters are successful racing greyhounds. Scratchy won one race, but it wasn't a big one. It was in a small country town before a crowd comprising mainly dust and flies. We don't know how many starters there were in the race. Possibly one. Not long after that Scratchy was retired, and then he came to live with us.

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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Greyhound, Canine epilepsy

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Epilepsy 2

June 21st 2008 17:06

It is almost five weeks since Scratchy suffered three seizures in 30 hours, and the distress of watching him thrash uncontrollably on the floor is beginning to fade. We dare to hope that the attacks in mid-May will not recur.

It is late at night and I am in bed reading. Cindy is in the living room turning off the heating and the lights. Scratchy suddenly goes down and begins fitting. Cindy calls me, and while I watch over him, to make sure that he doesn't hurt himself during his violent exertions, Cindy tries to comfort Daisy, our new, second greyhound, who is wailing and crying, perhaps under the impression that I am hurting Scratchy.
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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Canine epilepsy

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Epilepsy 1

May 16th 2008 11:35

Some studies say as many as 4 per cent of all dogs suffer epilepsy. That is about one in every 25 dogs, so it is not uncommon.

One night, not long after our resolute, unshakable, non-negotiable conviction that Scratchy would sleep outside at night had been sheepishly reversed, I was woken by noise from the living room. It sounded like the dog was playing rugby with the cushions again. "Scratchy!" I barked, and immediately went back to sleep.
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Posted By: Chris Champion - Category: Canine epilepsy

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