Darling baby Sofee - the baby of the family and loving every moment of it!

Sofee came to us Easter, 2000. We adored our Murphy so much that we wished for another one just like her!

Well, the little cocker baby we got was not ‘just like Murphy’.  In fact, Sofee is about as unlike Murphy as she could possibly get, and just as sweet, just as giving and loving and just as lovable.

Sofee is her own ‘person’. She is rough and tumble, stubborn and stoic, tough, rough around the edges, and at the same time, tender hearted and sensitive and completely adorable.  She has a sweet kind personality and is a little clown!  And she gives kisses that sweep tonsils!

Sofee sings - I mean real deep soulfull honest-to-God singing! Her favourite accompanyment is opera, preferably sung by a female voice, although she has been known to help out male voices singing the American National Anthem from time to time!

In January of 2002 Sofee gave us a terrible scare. If this is happening to you, please read our diary (below) and then read this article from pethealthcare.net and please email us.

Thursday evening:
Sofee is walking a little slowly.  She must be tired.  In the evening, the kids coax her to jump upon the sofa with them, and she refuses, but loves the idea of being lifted up there.  Lazy little girl! A few hours later, Sofee is breathing shallow and her coat is greasy.  We decide we will see how she is in the morning.

Friday morning:
Sofee is walking sort of sideways and her hind quarters seem to be giving her some trouble.  Our family physician vet looks her over and decides that her symptoms seem to indicate a sprain or a pulled muscle in one of Sofee’s hips. She prescribes pain killers and total rest.  Sofee spends the rest of the day cuddled on the sofa with her own personal servants, not seeming to mind one bit!

Saturday morning:
This problem appears to be worse.  If it were a sprain, the painkillers would have kicked in and would be making her seem better, even if she really weren’t.  But she cannot control her hind legs at all this morning. We call the veterinarian and take her in at 11am for further examination.

Xrays show a narrowing in the space between two of Sofee’s vertabrae, indicating a possible ruptured disk. We are informed that we can be referred to specialists at the Atlantic Veterinary College, and that if surgery is required, there are no promises for recovery, and an anticipated expense of approximately $2,500.00.

Sofee is seen by three doctors including Dr Chalman, who just happens to be the reigning North American expert in canine neurosurgery, and who just happens to be doing visiting lectures at AVC this week.  We agree to a mylogram under general anesthetic to determine for sure whether what has now become total paralysis is the result of a disk rupture (possibly operable) or blood disorder (untreatable) or skeletal disorder (untreatable). It’s hard to wish for disk rupture, but under the circumstances we pray that that is what the problem is.

After the mylogram, Dr Chalman shows us the mylogram x-rays, confirming a ruptured disk compressing the spinal cord and causing the paralysis. At 4pm we ask Dr Chalman to do surgery asap.  We pay $1,000.00 up front, are told that the surgery, even if it goes perfectly, only sets the stage for her recovery, but does not create an automatic cure, and that indeed, Sofee could experience seizures as a result of the mylogram dye, which could cause her death when she starts to come out of the anesthesia.  We go home for something to eat, email our friends begging for doggie prayers, and return to the hospital.

Dr Chalman returns from 2 hours of surgery to tell us that ‘so far’ everything has gone well.  Sofee is still under the effects of the anesthesia and will have someone sitting beside her on ‘seizure watch’ for the next 8 to 12 hours. She is on heavy morphine by injection. During the surgery, the spinal cord came back to shape quickly when the compression was relieved, but there is no way of knowing if the nerves inside the cord were permanently damaged. Only time will tell.

Sunday morning:
We are allowed to see Sofee for the first time in 18 hours.  We are led to her hospital room and find her looking much better than we expected.  Despite the morphine, she recognizes us.  We could have sworn that we saw some movement in her tail, or did we?  She shows no signs of feeling in her hind legs or feet.

Monday morning:
The beginning of a miracle.  I get a call at work to tell me that Sofee is doing VERY well indeed, and that, in fact, I may come to see her, which doesn’t take me long since I work at the University in the building next to the small animal hospital.  When I arrive at her room, there is NO question - that tail wagged!  A miracle!  She can feel! And not only can she feel some of her hind quarters, but the messages are getting from her brain to the tail! That is SUCH a good sign.  And then the added bonus - she is beginning to show signs of involuntary reflex action in her hind feet.  I cannot hold back the tears. I hug her and kiss her and then am whisked away when Sofee starts to get a little too anxious at my presence. She wants to come with me :(

Tuesday morning:
The miracle continues. Sofee can stand.  She can support her hind quarters for 30 seconds when her legs are positioned under her. As small as it seems, it is HUGE.  She is eating well and seems to have an understanding of her bodily function needs. I don’t know who cries more when I leave her, Sofee or me.

Tuesday evening:
Sofee is walking!  Not fast, mind you, but actually walking! We had been told that she may not be able to walk at all for months, if ever. And she is walking on day three post op! AND she hasn’t required any morphine since Sunday night, and is showing absolutely no signs of discomfort.

Wednesday morning:
More miracles! The prayers are working! Sofee can control her bodily functions and can maneuver her positioning all by herself with the help of a sling under her belly, just in case she were to slip or drop.  And she is walking stronger and more straight, indicating that the nerves controlling the right side, which had been more badly damaged during the compression, were starting to catch up with the recovery of the other nerves.

Thursday:
We can’t believe it! Although the average hospital stay for this kind of neurosurgery is 10 days, Sofee has the go-ahead to return home today, five days post op!  She can walk and wiggle and that tail is definitely wagging when she realizes she is coming home! We have to promise to keep her crated at ALL times other than when she is taken out to relieve herself, and at those uncrated times, she must be accompanied and supported with the sling.  The bill which was supposed to be about $2500 turned out to be $1000 less than the estimate.

The following Thursday:
Sofee, loved, coddled, spoiled and adored, returns to the hospital to get her staples removed. She doesn’t flinch, and is given a 100% bill of health. She must be crated most of the time for the next 6 weeks to assure the internal healing process, but when we are there to supervise, she may graduate to an indoor pen which confines her but allows her to be more a part of the family.

Friday:
A friend of a good friend allows me to borrow a folding pen, and thanks to her generousity, Sofee is allowed to come out of the crate to her comforter, her toys and the noses of Murphy and Hannah peering into the fencing walls at her.

She is a happy little girl, and we are even happier!