Heartworms: The Follow-up

(I chose this photo to show how much Father had recovered after being heartworm free. He filled out, and his coat looks really good.)


I took Father back to the vet several weeks after his heartworm treatment. This involved another lovely trip to Knightdale with Father puking and peeing the whole way. In the typical vet visit, we would check in at the receptionist’s desk, wait in the reception area, stare at the wood paneling (the place was built in the late 60’s / early 70’s, decades devoid of architectural advancements and abundant with tackiness), hope that Father wouldn’t try to kill another client’s dog, a trip to an exam room with a pit-stop at the scales in order for Father to be weighed, followed by some more waiting in the exam room, a pre-vet exam by a vet tech, followed by an exam by the vet his or herself.

Father and I were waiting in the exam room a few minutes when a middle-aged man entered the room. It was Dr. Kahdy, a partner in the practice. He himself was a dog owner (Great Danes, I think), and he owned horses, too. Father immediately tried to hide under my chair. It was sweet that Father would come to me for protection, considering that several months ago, all he would do around me was bark and growl. I was starting to gain his trust. Although Dr. Kahdy is a short guy and doesn’t look menacing, he does have a deep voice which must have scared Father more than he already was under the circumstances. Strangers, especially men, scared Father. We speculate that men in Father’s past may have abused him.

Dr. Kahdy could see how scared Father was, and when I told him that Father was scared of strangers, especially men, Dr. Kahdy said “OK” and left the room. A few minutes later, a female vet came into the exam room. She had dark brown hair, blue eyes and was petite and perky. I found her to be attractive. Dr. Lindsay, an associate vet at the clinic, stuck around for several years, but moved to Greensboro because of her husband’s new job. Whenever Father visited the clinic, Dr. Lindsay was almost always the vet who looked after him. With Abby or Andy, they were seen by any and almost every vet practicing at the clinic.

Father was heartworm free; the treatment worked. I knew that Father wasn’t going to die, but I didn’t know if there would be visible changes in him now that he was cured of this disease. A few months later, I would find out what a difference being free of heartworms had for Father’s energy level. He grew stronger and faster by the day. Of course, his gaining weight helped, but it wasn’t until later that I realized what a horrible and yet easily preventable disease heartworms is.

Father Goes to the Vet: The Pick-Up

Later in the day after the morning I had dropped off Father at the vet, I went back to the clinic to pickup Father. After arriving at the front desk, the receptionist sent me back to an examination room where she said someone would bring Father. I wasn’t in the exam room long until someone brought in a dark, small, short-haired dog. It was Father, and I didn’t even recognize him. He seemed so meek and pitiful looking. His long, black, majestic mane had been shaved off leaving about an inch of hair on him. Even the sheen on his hair was gone. His hair had a dull tone to it. To add insult to the situation in addition to taking away Father’s looks was a tiny, blue ribbon attached to the top of his head. It was as if all of his dignity had been taken from him. He had been stripped down naked, and I was sad to see him like this. Father weighed in at around 35 pounds, which was far short of his ideal weight of around 55 pounds. Father didn’t look good, and it turns out, it wasn’t just cosmetic. Being underweight and flea infested was the least of Father’s problems.

I was about to take Father away when the vet tech told me that the vet wanted to have a word with me. I could tell by her tone that it wasn’t going to be good. A female vet entered the room. I don’t remember her name nor what she looked like, but she was an associate and not a partner in that practice. At the time, the clinic had a bit of a turnover with the associate vets making it hard to remember who they were since they didn’t stick around long then. The one thing I do remember well is her saying that Father had heartworms. The vet explained to me what it was, what would happen to Father if he were not treated and what treatment options were available, and of course, the treatment’s cost, several hundreds.

I didn’t make an immediate decision on something of this magnitude because something like this needed to be discussed w/ Father’s co-owner, my mom. I took Father out of the room, stopped by the receptionist’s desk, paid the bill and left.

On the way home, Father got sick again.

Father Goes to the Vet: The Drop-off

We waited almost a half a year until we decided to take Father for a check-up at the vet. It took us a while to do this because we had been burned by the “Princess Ordeal”, and we didn’t want to get emotionally or financially involved with Father only to have some negligent owner swoop in and take him back. However, after waiting a while and asking around with the neighbors about Father, it was apparent that Father’s owners were not going to step forward.

Not only was Father going in for an exam, but he was also going to be groomed, so I was going to drop him off in the morning and pick him up later that afternoon. My mom made the appointment and gave instructions to the clinic what needed to be done while I was the one who had to take Father to the vet. What made the chore annoying was that my mom wanted to use a vet in Knightdale, a town about 10 miles east of where we lived, and it was also in the wrong direction on my way to school, so I was going to have to go 40 miles out of my way that day to get Father to the vet even though there are many choices of vets inside Raleigh itself. At the time, the US 64 Bypass had not been built, so the only way to Knightdale was US 64, which is also a major artery from Raleigh into eastern Wake Co. and eastern NC. That 10 mile drive at the time would often take 30 minutes but it wasn’t unusual for it to take over an hour. It was a pain in the ass having to go through that hick town with all of its randomly timed red lights.

I learned several things that day. First, Father gets car sick – easily. I had hardly pulled out of the driveway onto the street when Father started peeing and throwing up in my car which I had otherwise kept in good shape of 8 years. Poor Father was panting heavily in the backseat the whole way. When we arrived at the vet, a vet tech was in the only person at the reception desk. I told him my name and that we had an appointment. He asked my why Father was there, and I said I really didn’t know what was scheduled for him that day since my mom had made the appointment. The guy, Bob, got gruffy. Then when another client came in, he grew even more frustrated and yelled in the back for some help. Later, a few months, I commented to the vet that Bob scared Father, to which the vet said “Bob scares a lot of people.” I was a little put off by the guy at first and still find him a little odd, but the guy has been at the clinic well over 14 years now, and from what I know, he is a loyal and dependable employee. Vets would love to have employees like that.

Bob took Father to back for his exam and grooming while I went to school with a detour home in order to clean the backseat after Father’s mess.