Another year has passed and Cutter just had his 12th birthday (10 days ago). I can hardly believe it at times, and remember at last year’s 11th birthday I was wondering if…. But here we are, my amazing, bigstrongboy still plugging along, albeit at a much slower pace.
He’s had some rough times, and lately my concern has been over him being hammered with the side effects of his anti-seizure meds. It’s a wicked Catch-22 these days – reduce the drugs to give him a break from side effects (weak, uncoordinated, sedated – all exacerbated due to his age and normal age-related weakening) and the seizures come rushing in to fill the gap. Both are detrimental to his health, but the seizures, if left unchecked, will kill him faster than the drugs. There is more than a whiff of brimstone in the Faustian nature of my ongoing battle with canine epilepsy and I am filled with a chaotic mix of pride, gratitude, humility, and desperation whenever I dwell on his condition for more than a moment or two.
Rottweilers are not a long lived breed, and making it to age 12 is remarkable for any of them. For Cutter, plagued with epilepsy and the brutality of seizures for the past 7.5 years, to have made it to this milestone is a small miracle. I am so proud of him, and yes, myself, for fighting so hard. I’ve spent buckets of cash, dealt with near incompetency from several veterinarians (trust no one!), and have fought tooth and nail advocating for his health and well being. But I can’t take all the credit – without his willing partnership and lionhearted strength nothing I could have done would have made a difference. So here’s to my buddy, my amazing, wonderful, adorable Cutter. Happy Birthday Buddy.