Does everyone know what parvo is? It’s a dog killer. If your dog gets parvo it has a 50/50 chance of living. It’s an intestinal disease, or sometimes in young puppies it’s a heart disease. But for most dogs it’s an intestinal disease where it eats the lining. The dog will become lethargic and depressed, it will stop eating but it will start throwing up, it will lose weight, have diarrhea and eventually choke on its own vomit and die. Heed my advice… GET YOUR DOG VACCINATED!!!

That being said let me get onto one of my worst weeks in a long time starting on November 23. I went over to my friend Justin’s house because I knew that he had a 6 month old boxer-pit mix named Brian I wanted Little Bear to meet and play with. At the time, I thought he was just a boxer or else Bear would have never been allowed around a pit. Anyways, I get to my friend’s house before he does and just let myself in; I used to spend a lot of time over there, and I went to high school with all of his roommates. We’re all good friends.

Well, there was no one home, so I go on the hunt to greet Brian. I start calling his name and I hear a pitiful little squeak and I turned around and there’s……………………….

A 13 pound, 6 month old boxer-pit mix curled up on the couch, surrounded in vomit. I yelped and ran over to the couch and sat down by him. Little Bear was off exploring. This guy should have been HUGE! He should have been able to eat Little Bear for brunch! Not even a valid meal, more like a light snack! But he was so tiny and so frail. Just skin and bones. He looked up at me with some of the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen; he would barely let me touch him. Finally I hugged him and told him I wasn’t gonna hurt him, and I was worried about him and just loved on him.

That’s apparently the key phrase to spring a boxer-pit into action. He pitifully crawled in my lap and clucked his head into my arm. He basically just wanted a hug. He was shaking from head to toe, and I was holding back tears. WTF was up with this dog??? He snuggled into me like I will never forget. He just… wanted to be loved. I couldn’t understand why my “friend” had not taken Brian to the vet yet…

Around the time Little Bear found the OTHER two dogs, locked in the back room, Justin got home, and I railed him. I wanted to know what the hell was the matter with him, why was his tiny, tiny puppy not at the vet, and why he weighed 13 pounds when he should have weighed 50? I tried to get him to let me take Brian home with me, but he wouldn’t let me. I told him I could get my dad to pay for vet services for him, because Little Bear obviously wouldn’t have minded having Brian around; he was all over him, playing with him, swatting at him, smelling his butt… You know. Dog stuff. Normal. But Justin wouldn’t let me take him home. I told him I’d bring him home soon but he still wouldn’t let me. Blessing number one.

Well Justin wasn’t having any of it and we argued for an hour. My Little Bear is well groomed, clean, healthy, happy, well fed (over fed) and active. Everything Brian wasn’t. This dog basically lived in the dark while his owners ignored him. I was between a rock and a hard place trying to figure out if I should rat my friend out or not.

Well after an hour, Justin finally agreed to take Brian to the vet. I didn’t believe him, but there was nothing else I could do. I stayed for another couple of hours and met his other two locked up dogs (apparently they were too active for Brian and they were stressing him out… let’s see, two 100 pound dogs that are healthy and cooped up see another dog… Sure. Whatever).

So the next day, Justin calls me and tells me that Brian is going to die because he has parvo. He actually didtake him to the vet. Blessing number two. I just though, “What the hell is parvo and why is it gonna kill Brian?” So I had been telling my mom all about it, and I called her to let her know Brian’s final prognosis. Yeah, blessing number three. Brian died later that afternoon, I’m sorry to say. He choked on his own vomit, and simply gave up. He was too weak to go on. (Parvo, in its latest stages, is extremely contagious. Lovely...)

She was silent for a second. “Baby,” she said. “Has Bear had his second round of shots?”

“No, he hasn’t,” I told her. “We’re gonna get them in a couple of weeks when he has his next check-up.” My former vet’s office told me it had been done when in fact it hadn’t, so he was due to get them (being 7 months) at his next check-up.

She then explained to me how dangerous and deadly parvo was, all the while I was googling it. I was at work and started freaking out. I ran into my boss’ office and stuttered something about, “Parvo, Bear, shots, 2 hours” and ran out. I sped home, picked up Little Bear, prayed to God, and drove the speed limit to the vet’s office. I made them squeeze me in the schedule. The vet (NOT my normal one) was pretty flaky. She told me that he might or might not get it but probably would and gave him a few vaccines and sent my ass home. I. Was. PISSED.

We got home and I cleaned EVERYTHING. I cleaned the floors, I changed my clothes, changed the sheets Bear and I had slept on the night before, I bought some Woolite heavy duty bacterial disinfectant and coated everything. Then I took a shower and went back to work. When I got home that night, I bathed him for a good 30 minutes. He fell asleep, as always. He pretends to hate baths.

Well, the infection takes 5-10 days to show up. During that time, I fed him everything that said “multi-vitamin” and “healthy immune system” and “protein enriched” and we stayed active all day long. I cleaned everything before and after I left for work and UGH! It was a hell of a week. I was stressed and beyond petrified. Plus, my birthday was the 25^th, and I spent it looking after Bear and making sure to monitor his every move.

All of the three blessings above I am so thankful for. I’m thankful Justin took Brian to the vet, because without that, Bear might have contracted parvo and never have gotten the vaccine until it’s too late. The second blessing was him letting me know what Brian was diagnosed with, and the third was me calling my mom, and her cluing me in early.

Well today, he’s still doing fine. Never got it. And I thank God. I’m just so shocked someone could have a dog and care so little about it. Just not even care that your dog is hurting.

I’m gonna be one of the best moms in the world, but probably the most overprotective. If Little Bear throws up, there is no calling the vet to see what might be going on. No, Bear is at the vet’s office within the next 30 minutes to see what we can do and what is wrong. If the tiniest thing is wrong with him, then we are gone. Dr. Appelbaum is used to us by now… But how can someone neglect their dog like that? A dog, who wants nothing more than to love you and be loved back. My Little Bear is beyond spoiled and loved like my own child. I watched over him, and he came away unscathed. Brian sadly passed away. Justin and I aren't speaking anymore. Not just over Brian, but over the level of care he lives his life at. I don't want MY baby or myself around someone like that.