Portions of this article appeared in a two-part series in GREAT SCOTS MAGAZINE, Aug. - Sept., Vol. 13, No. 4 , and in Oct.-Sept. Vol 3., No. 5: "A Stone's Throw: Ripples Across Time with Scottish Terriers."

Bonnie Sue: One Scottish Terrier's Experience with Adrenal Exhaustion and SARDS

By Russie McDement-Fogarty

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All Because of Bonnie

Through that single phone call, we also learned about Charlie, Bonnie's ten-year-old breeding mate, burdened with a large aggressive soft-tissue sarcoma on his hind leg, a serious congenital heart condition. He was also living outdoors. The breeder wasn't sure about what the tumor could be, but said that perhaps Charlie was too old or unhealthy to be adoptable. He had been through three different breeders and homes, but unlike Bonnie, he recognized a good thing when he saw it and loved us from the moment he met us. He was a large, handsome boy with an unforgettable face, who quickly chose my husband as his favorite person in the world. He fairly glowed when he met Patrick for the first time. Of course, when confronted with another Scottie in need, Patrick could not and would not leave him behind, even with the looming heartache of another sick Scottie and the attendant veterinary bills. Patrick is a kind person, and so it was that Charlie came to live with us, too. I am happy to say that despite the worries and warnings, Bonnie and Charlie were soon housebroken, sleeping right beside us, and perhaps best of all, Charlie's cancer was successfully treated through surgery and chemotherapy.

The ripples from that first stone-that initial phone call to Bonnie's breeder--later appeared in the form of yet another Scottie boy who would come to live with us three years later, the last puppy Bonnie and Charlie produced, Bender. I had originally noticed him when we claimed Bonnie and Charlie years before. The breeder had held him back as a pet for her son, but he, too, was outdoors on a chain. As the son was growing up and had less time for Bender, she had inquired whether we might want to adopt him, and it didn't take us long to decide. He was a bit more of a challenge to socialize than either of his parents, but possessed the same good looks as his father and adored Patrick with equal devotion. He is just a big old bowl of sugar and is known as the "baby boy" of our home.

Still more ripples in the pond were appearing because at the time we obtained Bender, we learned through conversation with the breeder that two daughters produced by Bonnie and Charlie were now in a sort of small-time puppy mill. Of course, I was completely distressed at that thought, so we contacted the owner. He'd already made the decision to stop breeding Scotties, so we were able to work out a deal to buy all of the Scotties he had on the premises, not just the daughters we had originally discussed. Two of these Scotties were placed with veterinarians; one puppy, Miles, was adopted by my niece; the others were placed in homes through Scottie Rescue--Wee Beasties in Virginia. I realize that some folks would argue that putting money in the pocket of the folks who run these kinds of breeding operations is not really making a lasting change for the better, but I would argue that these Scotties didn't know that. Whether wrong or right, I could not possibly walk away from the offspring of two of the sweetest Scotties I'd ever known.

The rescue of those Scotties was best present my husband and I could have given one another. Motivated by our love for Bonnie, Charlie and Bender, we were able to do something tangible for their offspring and kin. Since that time, we've been able to aid in the placement of two other Scotties that were related to Bonnie and Charlie and have adopted Francine, a sister to Bender from the last litter of Bonnie and Charlie.

Bonnie Makes a Home

In the first several months of her life with us, we saw Bonnie become more accustomed to human contact and display a more casual response to new experiences. She seemed to expect good things for herself and sometimes demanded it-- a reaction that never failed to delight us. Because I was home all day with her, she began to form a strong bond with me and desired to be with me at all times. Until the hormones wore off, she and Charlie romped through the house like rowdy school children and slept side by side. It seemed to me that Charlie's presence offered comforting continuity. He had no problem making the adjustment to our home, and it wasn't long before she learned to enjoy toys, hugs and long walks where she could investigate the scenery at her leisure. I felt as I watched her that she had come to realize that this life would not be taken from her and that she was finally in her forever-ever home.

The Aftermath of Stress

The year 2006 was a difficult one for everyone in our home and we were forced to endure many changes and much loss. We sadly said goodbye to many of our dearest pet friends and wondered if our hearts would ever heal. We've never had such a bad stretch of time. It left me so sick with grief, I felt like I would turn inside out with raw emotion.

Kyle, my "heart dog," the one I called my forever beloved boy, my "Sunny D" (Sunshine-y Dog ), the one who had taught me the complete delight there is to be found in the company of male Scotties, was euthanized for advanced liver disease and bladder cancer. I don't think a single day has passed without a tear being shed for him. "Charlie Bear Pants" (Patrick's name for him), was euthanized two months later for primary lung cancer. His loss was felt acutely by Patrick, who had the kind of relationship with Charlie that I'd had with Kyle. Several months later, we had to say good- bye to Brownie, our faithful, long-suffering red hound; After that, we lost two of our oldest cats, Dave, age 18 (my favorite cat of all time), and Red, a quirky and playful 15-year-old male. It was hard to let any of them go, but watching them suffer was simply not an option. We have always felt that euthanasia is the way of showing your protection and best wishes for your pets. For us, walking that final leg of our journey together is the last act of kindness.

We also had to part with adorable Amy Pie, a young Scottie we'd been fostering owing to an illness in her family. She came to our home late on the night of my birthday party that year. She was so utterly delightful, she seemed like a gift sent from Heaven and Kyle. After five months in our care and her owner's move to California, she was requested to be shipped to her new home. I had hoped against hope that I might be able to keep "The Pie," but it was not to be. Her destiny was to be reunited with her own young master who needed her to aid his own healing, as only a beloved Scottie can. Despite knowing that, I was ill-prepared for our final parting and found the experience uniquely painful.

Interspersed with these difficult losses, I was hospitalized for nearly two weeks to treat squamous cell oral cancer. It began with a small sore that my local oral surgeon said would be "fine." But six months later, a different surgeon removed much of the floor of my mouth, one-third of my tongue and 28 lymph nodes in my neck. I was a nonsmoker, a vegetarian and an organic gardener, so I was shocked with the diagnosis, not to mention the treatment. After the surgery, I was elated to learn that I was cancer-free and to realize how richly God had blessed me by granting me the continued ability to speak. There was no doubt I had been healed. But coping with the physical and emotional effects was harder than I had expected. More importantly, I knew that stress could have a harmful effect on a person or pet's overall health and I believe I experienced this firsthand. I could see that our household stressors affected not only our human hearts, but those of our pets, too. Bonnie's declining health in the months to follow became an illustration that I could not ignore.

Bonnie's Symptoms

Sometime in the summer of 2007, we noticed that Bonnie was slowly losing the ability to hear or to see well. It was during the six-month period after we lost most of our six pets and I'd had surgery when I noticed that she became a little grumpy with the other dogs and was more reticent to be held. Normally, she wanted to be near me, so when she stopped going up and down the steps with me to my office, I attributed it to the first signs of arthritis and looked for natural supplements as a remedy. But as time passed, she changed in other ways, including excessive hunger, weight gain, intolerance to the slightest increase in temperature, excessive panting and increased water intake and output. She was also lethargic during the day, but unable to sleep well at night. She'd had an ultrasound within the year and had a complete CBC and thyroid test, too. Her thyroid response was in the gray zone and her alkaline phosphatase (liver) enzyme was high. It was not as high as we'd seen in some of our other Scotties, so we tried not to worry.

I say "tried" not to worry because I've never been satisfied with that theory that high liver enzymes are just a Scottie thing. They've always signaled serious illness just down the road, and once I see the levels go up, I can never really relax and feel good about that pet's health. So, we started the natural liver-supportive things that Scottie people do and had an ACTH test done to rule out Cushings, which was of course my first thought. But it was negative. We'd gone down this road with other pets, doing endless tests for Cushings that never seemed to pan out, despite obvious symptoms. What else should we do? We kept the house cool and tried to make her comfortable, but I grew more concerned and found her behavior less easy to explain. There was also that matter of a mother's intuition that told me that I needed to pay attention to what was happening and seek answers quickly. My own health situation proved to me that waiting to see how things turn out isn't always the best plan.

Patrick has sweetly come to trust in that intuitive part of my relationship with our pets and agreed to doing whatever I felt was right. Now, I just had to figure out what that might be.

We've often found ourselves with animals suffering from health issues that don't seem to find resolution on the first, second or tenth trip to the vet or specialist. This is no reflection on our vets; the medical problems our pets experience are rarely simple. Their proper health care sometimes requires a bit of detective work, a happy willingness to empty our pockets and travel to faraway specialists. Cushings disease, cerebellar abiotrophy, soft-tissue sarcoma, hemangiosarcoma, mammary cancer, bladder cancer, soft tissue cancer, lung cancer, heartworm, kidney failure, heart disorders, obsessive/compulsive disorders, collagen disorders, pancreatitis, diabetes, irritable bowel syndrome and food allergies, oral problems, gallbladder and liver disease were just a few of the items on the menu at the "House of Ill," (the name I mentally gave our home). Sometimes, despite all the special advice and tests and surgeries and hospitalizations and expensive medicines, we never found the answers we sought, as in Kyle's IBD or Brownie's collagen disorder, but merely muddled through these medical crises, managing each of them in turn as best we could.

Through the years of researching these problems and my own mysterious cancer, I became interested in the immune system and trying to learn how to aid, support or restore it. It seemed the key player in ensuring good health. I can't say I am the smartest person in even a very small group, but I may well be the most curious. I like to learn and discover new things, especially those that could offer happiness and vigor to my pets. But I came to realize somewhere in my journey of learning that not everyone shares this passion. Many people are simply content with status quo-even as it relates to their own health issues--and would rather keep the potentially hurtful things hidden from view. For those people, denial is an important coping mechanism.

"It is easy to dodge our responsibilities, but we cannot dodge the consequences of dodging our responsibilities." --Josiah Stamp

Even so, I have come to appreciate that everyone is on a different path and learn things in their own time. I hope that in reading Bonnie's story, someone will be inspired to start their own journey of discovery, just as I did long ago with Babes.

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