Chris Berry On The Net

During all of the years that my wife and I tried unsuccessfully to have a child, we were one of those couples who lavished all their attention on dogs. My sister once told me I wouldn’t love them the same way once we had a “real” child. I refused to believe her at the time, but there is no doubt that my feelings for these creatures have changed dramatically since Robert came along.

Maggie was our fist proxy child, and she joined our family about a year and a half after we were married. Her name is actually Margaret, as in Thatcher, but she has always gone by Maggie. We had done a lot of research on various breeds before deciding on a bulldog, and one of the most appealing characteristics was that they are supposed to be very tolerant of young children. We didn’t realize at the time that Maggie would be well into her golden years before Robert was born, and tolerance is not one of her strong suits.

Even though we had agreed to get a puppy, I purchased Maggie as a surprise while my wife was on a work related trip to Ukraine. That might have been my biggest mistake. I brought her home 5 days before Jennifer returned, and during that time I was her only companion. Maggie apparently came to regard me as her mother during those first few days, and that bond is as strong as ever after 10 years. She is very sociable with other people, but there is no question that her loyalty belongs to me. I have no doubt that if I were ever threatened, Maggie would defend me with her life.

For the first year that we had Maggie, I worked out of a home office and she was my constant companion. I even took her with me to occasional client meetings. Things changed when we moved to New York, and for the first time Maggie was home alone during the day. She made her dissatisfaction abundantly clear, making sure we were greeted by a steaming pile of shit in the middle of the living room floor every afternoon.

We decided that she needed company, so we started researching breeds all over again. Maggie is 50 pounds of solid muscle, and Jennifer wanted a smaller dog she could hold in her lap. We decided on a pug, and located a very reputable breeder in Pittsburgh with a litter of puppies that would be ready for new homes in a month. We put up with the poop for a few more weeks until the fateful day arrived. As we were pulling in the driveway to pick him up, Jennifer very nearly changed her mind about a second dog. In retrospect, our lives would be much simpler if we had simply driven away, but as soon as she saw him, there was no turning back.

We had both agreed on Maggie’s name without much debate, but the decision for our newest family member wasn’t as easy. My choices were either Woodrow or Waylon, but Jennifer wouldn’t go along with either of those. She also shot me down on Arlo before we finally settled on Grover.

He barely weighed 3 pounds when we brought him home, and we worried about the possibility of Maggie accidentally killing him. They got along famously from the start, and in spite of their very rough play, they always seemed to understand that Maggie could snap him in half if she wanted to. Their favorite game was something like tug of war without a rope. Maggie would just latch onto the loose skin on top of Grover’s head and drag him around the house. Every time we tried to separate them Grover would run back for more. From the day we brought Grover home, Maggie never pooped in the house again. Unfortunately, after nearly 8 years, Grover is still not completely house broken.

We enjoyed 5 years of peace and harmony between the two dogs before Robert was born, but the day we brought him home things changed. Grover wasn’t fazed by the new addition, but Maggie was clearly unhappy. She couldn’t do anything about Robert, but she began to assert her dominance over Grover much more aggressively. They still got along most of the time, but would fight occasionally if Maggie felt slighted in any way.

Robert couldn’t pronounce either of their names when he was first learning to talk, so he called them Mama and Wee-wee. Jennifer never thought Mama was as funny as I did, but we both agreed that Wee-wee was a perfect fit. We still call him that most of the time today, and he responds as if it were his real name.

As the dogs get older, they are both dealing with serious health problems. Bulldogs are notorious for arthritis and skin ailments, and Maggie is no exception. The deep skin folds on her face are prone to serious infection and require constant maintenance. After fighting a losing battle for years, her vet has finally given up on the common cleansers and ointments and has agreed to steroid treatment. It works, but only if used every day, and we don’t have any idea what the long-term effects might be. Bulldogs only have a life expectancy of 8 to 10 years, and Maggie is already pushing the upper limit. At her age, I guess we don’t have to worry too much about the long-term effects of anything.

Grover’s health problems are much more serious, and much more costly. He has already had several close encounters with death, including anaphylactic shock from a bee sting, mast cell tumors, and most recently, pancreatitis. He has also undergone surgery on both eyes, and suffers from grand mal seizures.

The seizures began about a year ago, and no one has been able to determine the cause. The onset was sudden, and for a week he was having full blown seizures every 15 minutes. The vet tried to control them with larger and larger doses of Phenobarbital, but it wasn’t working. We decided to put him to sleep. As we sat in the vet’s office trying to figure out how to explain death to our two year old son, Jennifer decided she wanted to bring him home for one more night. The vet agreed, and decided to try and increase his dosage one more time. Amazingly, it worked. In the year since then, he has only had 3 or 4 seizures, but it takes a daily dose of 5 Phenobarbitals to keep him under control.

Grover came home yesterday after 3 days of shuttling back and forth between the his regular doctor and the emergency vet. We don’t know what caused the pancreatitis, but he has once again escaped a close call with death. The total vet bill came to just under $1000.00. I haven’t been keeping track, but my best guess is that between the two dogs, we’ve spent at least $7000.00 at the vet since Robert was born. They are putting a serious dent in his college fund.

The biggest problem we have now is that Maggie has become so aggressive toward Grover that we have to keep them separated at all times. The baby gates that we once used to keep Robert under control are now used to prevent constant fights between them. It’s very sad to separate dogs that were inseparable companions for so many years. It’s also a huge logistical challenge, and my patience is wearing thin. I hate to admit it, but I’m looking forward to the day when we only have 1 dog again.

UPDATE

Read the follow up article An Update On Mans Best And Most Expensive Friends