Hi everyone. Our story is a bit different...
I have an 8 year old daughter and she'd been asking me all year if she could have a dog for Christmas. The last 2 years have been the most difficult and painful that I'll ever go thru (divorce, custody battle, losing my mom, hospitalized for 6 weeks, etc.), so I honestly didn't think adding a dog into the messy mix would be a good thing for anyone, including the prospective new pet. But, 2 days before Thanksgiving, while visiting my fiancee in Virginia, I was transported to the emergency room and remained in the hospital until December 23rd. Turns out I'd gone into septic shock due to infected abscesses on each fallopian tube. I missed Thanksgiving and Christmas with Alivia and by the time I returned home to California on January 1st, the idea of bringing a playful, affectionate, loyal companion into our tiny family, suddenly seemed like a wonderful plan... "wonderful" is an understatement.
On January 17th, Alivia and I were looking online for a dog to adopt when we saw Goofy's profile listed with the San Diego Humane Society. When I read further and saw he was a mastiff, I knew for sure I wanted him, but also tried to remain practical. Keeping a huge dog in our truck during the week, seemed like a cruel and selfish thing to do to a dog. My fiancee is a CDL driver for Freymiller. We're gone together during the week and home on weekends. Nevertheless, I sent a message to the shelter inquiring about him. The next morning I got a call from them, she was responding to my message. At that point we were told that Goofy ("Mr. Grey" is what the shelter had named him) had been brought in approximately 3 months earlier, completely unable to walk. His hind legs could feel sensations, but for some unknown reason, he just wasn't able to get up and walk on the. All they knew of his history was that he'd been found in a hoarding home, tethered to chain, likely for a few months. Lab work, x-rays, cultures, physical exams... None of it provided any answers or even theories. Other than being lame, Goofy was a healthy and happy Neapolitan Mastiff puppy.
Despite my inner belief that there was no way we could possibly care for a huge, apparently immobile, 200 lb giant, we got into the car and drove to the shelter to meet him. We were met by a volunteer who sat down with us to explain Goofy's needs in more detail. As it turned out, he'd actually began to stand on his own, and even walk with minimal assistance. The water therapy treatments he'd just started were helping tremendously. He no longer needed to be carried out, or propped up, when going potty. Each day he was making tons of progress and getting stronger. So, duh... Of course we had to meet him after that.
The volunteer brought us out into the family yard, then went back inside to get "Mr. Grey". The door opened up again a few minutes later and out came this big, greyish blue, bright-eyed, super happy puppy. The very first thing he did was WALK right up to Alivia and slime her cheek with a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. OMG, his head was bigger than hers... I knew right then, he was perfect. We did the paperwork, met with the vet who'd been treating him, he posed for a few pics with some of his volunteer admirers, then we took him home. Exactly 2 weeks later, Goofy received his official service dog certification. Turns out, he has a talent for alerting me and others of an impending seizure. Seven days earlier, I was struck with my first Gran Mal. A left over side effect from my 6 week hospital stay in Virginia. Crazy how we, technically, rescued Goofy, but he saved MY life
OK, here's the relevant part of my long story.... 2 days ago, all of the progress Goofy has made - gone. He can barely walk or even stand on his own. Getting up from a laying position takes way more effort than we ever witnessed. It's only been 5 weeks since we met him and already regressing? What happened? Why the sudden 360• reversal? Will he get better again, or are we looking at the beginning of the end? His medical team has no answers yet and we're scheduled for more testing next week. How do I tell Alivia? How will she react when he can't chase her next weekend, or drag her around by his leash on walks? What happens if I have another seizure? So many questions, not nearly enough answers. I just keep praying for another miracle since he's already brought us so many.