The toll on our senior animals continues, even before winter arrives. Our French Bulldog, Bridget, was rushed to the Vet's yesterday afternoon as her breathing had become increasingly difficult. This was a week after we had treated her with cortisone and antibiotics, as the vet thought she was suffering from allergies (with which she had a long history). Never an easy breather (stupid breeding to perfect that retrousee nose and face!) her penchant for binge eating had already meant that we had to surgically tie back one of her laryngeal (windpipe) flaps after she nearly died from brachiocephalic breathing syndrome. As a result we have had to be careful about the aspiration of food or vomit, and she has been on Theophylline ever since.
Bridget was a Katrina dog. Her mistress lost her home and had to give up two of her three dogs. Whilst never surprised that Bridget was one of the dogs let go, she endeared herself to us in lots of ways. Slow to bond, she ultimately became very affectionate, and within the constraints of her terrible conformation and breathing difficulties, loved the attention we gave her. From the moment she came to us, her main objective in life was to get Jack (our brindle, possibly Aussie/Staff mix) to let her cuddle up and sleep with her at bedtime. Rarely would he stay put for longer than a few minutes, but he always paid close attention to her ears, giving them a good washing most days. He was very fond of her. At 12 years old she was well into the maximum for her breed and with poor (although occasionally selective) hearing on top of her other problems, she was generally to be found sleeping in the most comfortable spot she could find, never far from whatever person was around in the house. She was retired in every sense of the word.
Yesterday, after seeming to be breathing a little easier but still very constrained, she suddenly had great difficulty and showed signs of weakness. We got her to the Vet's, where she was x-rayed and put on oxygen. Bridget was diagnosed with pneumonia and was suffering from congestive heart failure. This was an extremely rapid development and we had no forewarning that she was experiencing any kind of heart difficulty. It appeared, virtually, overnight. But at her age and with her medical history there was little we could do but to make her as comfortable as possible. She was barely conscious of what was happening and died in the oxygen tent a few short hours later.
Not the easiest keeper by any stretch of the imagination, she nevertheless had a warm place in our hearts for the stoic way she put up with the trials and tribulations of her life, which was made more difficult through the anatomical problems of her breed. Shandy is worried because Bridget is missing, and even Jack tries console us with licks and affectionate hugs. Bridget is free from pain, and in a place where she can breathe freely and once again run free. We will miss her and always remember our "Katrina dog".
