Lester is probably a Chihuahua. He's not one of those four pound apple heads you see at the Dog Show though. Lester is more of the street smart Taco Bell style of Chihuahua. You might say he picked me out. Some years ago, my husband and I set out to add to our pack. Dennis envisioned a goofy fun loving lab mix. He found one. But she grew up to be a terrier mix.
Anyway, while Dennis and his faux lab mix were eyeing each other, a small tan green-eyed little hoodlum stared me down. Thus we added to our pack with two puppies rather than one. (Our older dog gave us dirty looks for months.)
After eleven years of joyful togetherness we discovered, darn the luck, Lester has what you might call wimpy discs. It was an ordinary weekday. Dennis and I were dressing for work and noticed that Lester was walking funny. He was wobbling, having trouble keeping his balance. He yelped. Then his legs didn't work at all.
Off to the vet we go. She referred us to a veterinary neurology specialist. The availability of specialists is relatively new to small animal veterinary medicine. When I was a kid we had a Snoodle named Marsha. One morning her hind legs didn't work anymore. The vet said maybe she'll get better but probably not. We kept her quiet and hoped she'd heal. Every time we had to move her she bit us because of the pain she was in. Marsha's story does not end well. But in the thirty-five or so years since Marsha's disc tragedy, veterinarians have brought the MRI and surgery to the mainstream.
Thus, Lester is alive and walking today.
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