Ace is a beautiful, big dog. Huge. He has always attracted attention from strangers, and been lavished with love and affection. As a result he is incredibly curious about, and loving towards, people. He is wonderfully patient and gentle with children. His heart has been relentlessly, unconditionally filled with love. Maybe that is why it's so big. His left ventricle is enlarged and failing to push oxygenated blood efficiently around his body. As a result there is fluid building around his lungs, making his breathing fast and laboured. He has lost weight and his coat is rough. His body is working hard.
But he is still playful and happy. He smiles. The wag is enthusiastic and when it meets an obstacle (which it frequently does in our small house) it reverberates. He rushes to dance with me when we play salsa music. That dance is not the most elegant, and involves him jumping (invited) onto my back, front paws gripping my waist, his head nibbling my shoulder, while he kangaroo hops ten inches off the floor. He comes for a blow dry when he hears the hairdryer. He is hilarious. Strong. Soulful. We find him endlessly beautiful to look at. None of us has ever managed to sufficiently drink him in. He is majestic, derpy and handsome. He is soft. His paws smell of popcorn. We have painted the inside of one of our cupboards pink in homage to the delicious colour of the inside of his ears. We are obsessed with this dog.
He has taught me so so much in the past 5 years. My journey with him has totalled half of my post diagnosis life. He has truly shown me my ultimate healing environment by finally being the one to get me moving. We have covered much ground over days, weeks, months and years. We must have walked close to 10,000 kms together. He has shown me the seasons, the changes, the beauty of nature pushing up in Spring, and the coldness of muddy East Sussex winters. We have favourite pathways, rivers, forests and chalk pits. We forage together. He has shown me why we should eat cleaver tips in spring and where the best elderflowers blossom. Together we have discovered fields of clover, wild cowslips, hogwort, mullein, dulcamara, and hawthorn. We know where the peregrine falcons nest, and which fields hold the sheep that he would so love to chase. We get high, up onto the South Downs, and low, onto the beaches where there is sand at low tide. He has given me the gift of freedom and of feeling connected to Mother Earth in a way I have never before been, or thought possible. And he has shown me how to see love and familiarity in all animals, in the way they lay, scratch, stretch. No lie, elephants in Sri Lanka reminded me of my dog, as did camels in Morocco. And by being part of a dog walking community I have made wonderful new friends, and I see the genuine kindness in humans.
And so to his healing, and the acceptance that maybe that is not what will be. For weeks now he and I have been walking through fields of hawthorn trees heavy with blossom. I have taken to bringing a large basket and secateurs on those walks, and collecting the flowers and leaves, not really knowing why this year in particular I have been drawn to cut, dehydrate and make tincture from these beautiful plants. I was aware of their powers to aid circulation, support the kidneys and improve heart function. And also for their potency in grief. And so, Ace and I find that we are both taking the medicine from this plant.
I'm amazed at how similar the allopathic treatment for congestive heart failure is for humans and dogs. That has lead me to believe that I can support Ace with herbs, homeopathy and supplements based on what I know about the human body. As such we are giving fermented cod liver oil, vitamin E and oily fish to counter the cardiac cachexia (lean muscle weight loss). He is also taking liposomal glutathione and taurine, and we will be starting him on COQ10 as soon as it arrives. Magnesium and potassium are vital for heart health, and we are adding those to bone broth with colostrum. We feel lucky that we have all of these supplements indoors. He is raw fed and not interested in treats. I am having to be creative about getting him to eat these supplements, but I wholeheartedly believe in the power of supporting body systems with nutraceuticals, so I will find a way.
He has been prescribed diuretics to move fluid from his lungs. These will eventually deplete his kidneys to the point of failure. I am keen to find alternatives to pharmaceuticals, but it feels like a fine line and a huge responsibility. At the moment I am giving him homeopathy to help with this, and we are making fresh teas from plants which are diuretic, like dandelion. As the dandelion wanes, I am looking for plants that are fresh and relevant. He is still teaching me. Elderflowers have diuretic properties, and are abundant at the moment. This local, seasonal magic feels potent to me right now.
He has also, maybe ironically considering his name, huge personality and big heart, been prescribed ACE inhibitors. This medicine widens and dilates blood vessels so that his heart doesn't have to work so hard. There have been studies to show that pomegranate juice is as effective. Pomegranate is in his protocol.
It's a lesson in patience. We are watching him. Making sure he is comfortable. I will let him guide me in whether he needs more, less or something different.
Beyond the physical healing he is teaching me to be even more gentle, patient and communicative with my children who are aching at the moment. I've realised that whether he lives or dies, he was always going to teach us about the process of dying. And of loss. And of letting go. Maybe that will be his biggest lesson to us all.
But at the end of all of that is LOVE.
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