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Our Family Dog has Diabetes

Our family dog, Alexander, has diabetes. Glaucoma has taken all of his eyesight, his hearing is starting to go, but every time I say his name, his tail wags and he searches for me in the room. He can also run the yard and bark at the dogs next door. He is still our Alexander!

A Puppy for my Daughters

I found Al one Sunday afternoon over 13 years ago on my way to church to pick up my daughter from confirmation class. My daughters, then 11 and 12 had never had a puppy of their own. We had three dogs when they were born and the first of the three a cocker spaniel named Hunter had just died the month before at the age of 14. Hunter’s death had made me hysterical, because he was “my boy” and I had sworn that day that he couldn’t be replaced and we would never have another dog.

On my way to church that afternoon there was a sign next to the road that said “Free puppies”. I’m sure the car turned on its own as I was drawn to follow the sign down the street. The signs led down a few houses to an identical sign in a front yard. I stopped, another car all ready had, and a lady was standing out there talking to the guy about the puppies. She had two left, a brown female that looked like it would be a large dog (feet, you know) and a smaller footed male. He was black with just a little bit of while on his chest. It was hard to tell what kind he was, he was just a puppy.

I learned after a discussion with the lady that the litter of 6 puppies had been dumped under her water faucet the night before. They were very thirsty; she gave them food and put them in her back yard. The little black guy was the only one left from the bunch.

So, I took the puppy, hid him in the back seat and went on to church. When my daughter found him she screamed with delight, a puppy of her own, you would have thought she had never seen a dog before she was so excited. So Alexander became a member of our family.

My daughters moved out after high school, one to college, one to work and Al was left with us. By this time all of our original three dogs had died and we had three more in addition to Al. He was the oldest, but we also had a Papillon given to us who was the same age, a Welsh Corgi and a lab mix who had been a gift to my other daughter from her then boyfriend. She (the dog) of course was left with us as well.

When Al was 10 he started peeing in the house. He had always been very well housebroken and it just seemed like he couldn’t control himself. I would get up in the middle of the night to let him out and he would come back in and pee again, it seemed to be uncontrollable. Al is part chow so his fur is very fluffy and very thick (with that chow undercoat and when I pet him it was behind the ears or on top of the head), so I hadn’t noticed that he had lost a significant amount of weight. He had lost about 15 pounds in a very short period of time.

We took him to the vet, who said he would run tests and let us know. The tests showed that he had diabetes and would require insulin shorts. At that point his vision had been seriously hampered and he would need drops in his eyes twice a day to keep them lubricated. This was about three and a half years ago.

We have had our ups and downs with Al’s diabetes, in the beginning stages he would walk around in circles seeming to be totally lost and confused. He would get lost in the back yard and not able to find his way to the gate. It took almost a year to get his insulin regulated correctly so that these episodes seem to be over.

Al takes a walk

One Fall evening, just after the time changed, I had fallen asleep and woke up after 6:00, it was all ready dark outside. I called out for the dogs to come in and eat, all showed up except Alexander. I called and called, he was nowhere to be found. We looked in all of his favorite spots and no Al. I drove up and down the street, in case he had gotten out, still no Al. When I returned from driving around we brought out the flashlights and prepared to do a grid search of the back yard, expecting to find a seriously hurt dog or worse. Just as we were about to start the search the phone rang. It was a guy who lived over ½ a mile away who was calling because he had found our dog. All had walked all that way and across two very busy streets and laid down with this guys dog behind his house. The very nice man had traced Al to us through his veterinary tags. Our vet, of course, immediately knew that it was our dog, because of the description. We immediately went to pick Al up and bring him home. We still have no idea how he got out of the yard.

Al and the squirrel

Several weeks after Al’s walk he became very listless. It was hard to even get him up to go outside; he just laid around all day. He didn’t appear to be sick, no vomiting or diarrhea, he just wouldn’t move. The next day he was even worse, we would have to help him outside and then he would just lie down. He didn’t pee or poop, just laid down. We took him to the vet who tried a couple of different things, but as the week went on he got worse, he appeared to be just about totally comatose. Finally, I called the vet and told him there was no improvement and asked if we should consider putting him down. He said that it had probably come to that point and he would do it that afternoon. I said my tearful goodbyes to Al and returned to work, my husband having made the appointment for later that day to take Al in. They decided to try another treatment and Al returned home again that night. The next day there was still no improvement. The only time he would even look up was when I entered the room, and then it was just briefly. The next afternoon my husband took him to the vet again, and again returned home. There was, however, no improvement. The next day I called my son-in-law to come dig a hole for a grave and we made an appointment to have Al put to sleep. I just couldn’t stand him laying around there like that anymore. The day before my husband had found our lab mix, Sooner, carrying around the carcass of a squirrel, finally a clue to what had made Al so sick. It had been over five days and he appeared to be getting worse every day.

That Friday afternoon, I met Al and my husband at the parking lot of the local elementary school to say goodbye one last time. He was so weak at this point I had just given up all hope. (I had even called my daughter’s husband to come dig the hole in the back yard.) When I opened the door to say goodbye to Al in the car, he sat up and wagged his tail. This was the most he had done all week. They went to the vet again and this time as a last effort (and encouraged by his sudden show of energy) the vet tried some new medicine and sent him home saying that if this didn’t help him nothing would. We lifted him out of the truck when he got home from the vet and he immediately lay down on the driveway, just too weak to go any further. I told my husband to call the vet and ask them what to do. They said give him 30 minutes and then call back if there was no improvement.

Thinking his sugar was too low we gave him some honey, which immediately got him to stand. His recovery was pretty quick after that. He ate a little bit of dinner that night and the rest is history. That all happened over a year ago. We are still unsure of what caused this problem. The vet agreed the squirrel could have been the source. The experience was a learning experience for the vet and us.

Now four years into the insulin treatment for his diabetes, Al is totally blind (even to light) and his hearing is starting to fade. He runs across the yard until he hits a tree or some other article and then picks himself up and continues to run again. He also makes his way to the kitchen when he believes there may be chicken or some other type of scraps. This is all pretty good for a blind, diabetic dog in his fourteenth year of life.