The Rock

The last photo I made, before the "steak"

When I would have a nose that was sore and looked like a raw steak, I would feel pretty sorry for myself.

Not Viva.

She invented some new tactics, on how to play with Kenzo, crash through low bushes, and greet her favorite people, without her nose being touched. I learned you can actually greet people with your side - or your butt - first.

And when the nose gets too painful or itchy, she shows me with some grins, or rubbing the side of her face, it is time for her pain relief.

She has always been bossy.

When we train, and I missed a perfect behavior, she reminded me so far with two quick nose bumps on the pocket where I keep the treats. Tap-tap. That has been exchanged by two snorts. She really wants to remain in charge of my training.

And she is as excited as always to go for walks. Sniff out the local dog newspaper - meet friends, play and act crazy. Learn the youngsters how to be polite to a lady.

Viva The Rock.

Me? Not so much. I second-guess myself and my vet. I go on wild-goose chases for treatments that don't seem to exist. I lost my control over the situation.

Fact is, DLE is illusive, and I have to face I might not be able to help Viva with this. This is her battle.

Thank god she is The Rock. And I am her biggest supporter.

***

Update November 7:

Viva's nose is deteriorating rapidly now.
The vet, bless her honesty, suggested it might be time to say our goodbyes. We still have a little time left to let her go without suffering.

I have to do what's best for her, and will use the next couple of days to spoil her rotten.
 
I write this to all of you beautiful people that have been so supportive for Viva and me during the last years, through all her ups and downs. You all helped me help Viva having a good life and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for that. I will give her a kiss from each of you.

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Could It Be? A Sign Viva's Nose Is Improving?

A big crust came off from Viva's nose this morning, and it didn't reveal yet the next open sore. Instead, a clean and fresh pink piece of skin presented itself.

Woohoo!

A first sign Viva's nose is improving ... Knock on wood.

Since our last update, Viva had a biopsy taken to confirm it was Discoid Lupus (DLE) and our vet consulted a specialist if there was anything we hadn't tried that could help.

So far we had tried every known medication- and herbal based treatment, without success. Of course apart from giving her steroids, which works with most dogs, but cannot be used for Viva, because of her Cushing's medication.

The specialist recommended us one more, last treatment based on a special type of antibiotic together with another supplement boost of vitamine B, E, and fatty acids.

Other than that we just continued to keep her out of the sun, and the nose protector she wears as you can see on the photo, was a great help with that. Although the sun still shines, its power fades, and the days get shorter. We rub some vaseline on the crusts, and apply some xylocain - a local sedative - when we see her wounded nose bothers her.

I really don't know if the last treatment helped her. And it might be just because the sun is fading, we start to see some improvements. But who cares, just she gets better!

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Spotting Pain

I'll keep on smiling

"Don't worry, she is not in pain" the vet said. Her comment left me baffled. Really. Viva's nose looks like a raw steak, and you tell me that doesn't hurt.

"It is itchy, which is uncomfortable of course", the vet persisted. "It is just not a nice sight." - the emphasis is mine.

We'll get back to that discussion later.

I really don't blame her. Spotting pain in dogs is difficult, and even worse, it is individual from dog to dog. I respond to completely different triggers depending if it concerns Kenzo or Viva.

It is best illustrated by comparing Kenzo and Viva's response to acute pain, with something they both have experienced, which is stepping into a thorn. They both start with a couple of short limping steps. After that, the similarity ends.

Kenzo stops walking almost immediately. He sits down, starts panting, and holds his injured paw up into the air for me to see: "Dad? I made a boo-boo". On investigation, I find the thorn and pull it out. When we move again, the same scenario tends to repeat itself a couple of times, as the paw is still hurtful, and Kenzo wants to double-check I did my job removing the thorn.

You can probably guess what Viva does. Right, after those first limps that look like a series of missteps, she just continuous like nothing happened. Not even a puff or a pant. After I stopped her, I pulled a 1 cm long thorn out of her paw.

Viva reminds me of Tom Sizemore in Saving Private Ryan, saying "I just got the wind knocked out of me" after taking two bullets in the chest. And I never forget when we treated her for her spondylosis - painful in itself - , and not getting it quite right as she didn't improve the way she should. After more investigation, the vet found a thorn completely embedded in her paw, that probably has sit there for quite a while.

Maybe she has experienced so much chronic pain in her life, she even responds differently to the acute pain caused by a thorn. Maybe she is just "tough". Either way, she does feel pain, even if she hardly shows it.

To be able to see how Viva is doing, I keep a simple diary, the "Chronic Cushing's Diairy", that would alert me of any issues or chronic pains. I use it to be able to compare for how long she played, walked and run on any particular day. Any slowing down in either department, and something is not right. The diary has enabled me so far, to predict each outcome of her quarterly Cushing's test and blood work.

Other than that I watch for the tiniest of clues which brings me back to the discussion with the vet. Viva soon started to make "grinning faces" and she sometimes rubbed her nose against me - both to relieve the itching - only to quickly stop. She also shows discomfort when she bumps into Kenzo with her nose when they are playing: she closes her mouth.

Other than that it is just plain common sense. She has open wounds on her nose. Her nose. That thing a dog sticks into literally everything. Put something in your open wound and see how that feels.

"Well, I don't have any other clients that are tuned in with their dog as you are, so I'll trust you on that", said our vet.

And therefore we both wondered again what it is we are looking at. Could it be a drug-induced side-effect, are we not dealing with DLE after all?

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A Hovie's Nose

The best summer ever in Denmark. According to meteorologists, the best since 1860.

The summer already started in early May, during our visit to the Danish West-coast. Viva's favorite place on the planet. We enjoyed being outside the whole day. Temperatures where not high, but nonetheless we all got a little sunburned. Also Viva was, on her nose.

The sunburn would soon heal we thought, and hoped the summer would stay, so we could go out into the light again and wash off the Danish winter and its short days.

Now, it is the end of August. We returned to the West-coast, and are looking back at this "best" summer ever. How different has the summer turned out to be. Viva's nose is still "sunburned". The vet thinks it is Lupus (DLE) - also called "Collie Nose" - an auto-immune disease, and in Viva's case, difficult to treat as the medication doesn't go along well with her Cushing's disease. We have been trying three different topical treatments so far that don't interfere with her Cushing's, to no avail.

The vet's best advice was to avoid the sun, as the ultraviolet rays seem to be a main trigger for lupus. We dodged the sun as much as we could in the short sunless window of opportunity, between 23:00 and 04:00, given to us in the South of Scandinavia.

We went for late walks, hunkered inside during the long summer days and only made short trips to potty in areas with an abundance of shadow. It did seem to help to an extend. Although about every two weeks it flared up again to it's worst state.

For us humans it is a strange experience going against the little Nordic voice in our heads telling us to suck up some sun and light now we had the opportunity. Although going nocturnal was counter-intuitive for us humans, Viva really doesn't care when she goes out, as long as she does go out. Her spirit is high, and I wonder how she can. When I look at her nose I know it must itch enough to make one crazy. It must be painful. I don't even have the stomach to add a close-up of her nose to this blog, it looks too horrible.

But somehow Viva sucks it all in and can muster enough fight to remain her cheerful self. Enjoying the little things like she always has. Tough girl.

Two vets and three treatments have not been able to help so far, leaving me in despair and self-hate for not being able to help my girl, and seeing no options other than doing a rain dance and pray this summer will soon end.

Let it storm, rain, hail and thunder. Go away sun and blue skies, you are not welcome any more.

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