Cushing's Disease

My brave doggie King-Pup underwent surgery about two years ago for mast cell tumors on his body. The vet got them all out and he had been doing very well (no recurrences), until a month or so ago, when he was diagnosed with Cushing's Disease. He had started pee'ing in the house (something he'd never done before) & drinking much more water than he ever had. He also seemed to be more tired & hungrier than usual, but instead of gaining weight, he lost some weight, developed a sway-back and some atrophy of his hindquarter muscles. Several tests later, the vet diagnosed his endocrine problem as a dysfunction of his pituitary gland, for which he has now been started on medication. The disease is not fatal, but it certainly compromises the quality of the doggie's life, so we're hoping to adjust the dose so that some of these symptoms resolve. King-Pup is definitely not himself and we all just want him to feel better (beyond what extra hugs and snacks can provide)!

Introduction

Before you wonder too much about me, let me explain that I have been living in this crazy household for several years now - at least 6 or 7 years that I know of. My Dog Mother brought me home on July 4th of the fateful year (my personal Independence Day, away from abuse), after meeting me several times before, coming to visit me where I lived with my foster mom who rescued me, and generally falling in love with me. She has told me, and still does, that I have the most beautiful eyes she has ever seen and that one could just melt into them - she neglects to add that I also probably have the most beautiful teeth that she has ever seen, which is what my vet says.

Anyway, when I first came on board, I was it: King of House, King of the Hill, that was it, with the exception of Twinkles the Cat, a male calico, may he rest in peace, who passed away on Christman Eve three years ago. Somewhere down the pike, Dog Mother's younger princess daughter opted to bring Molly, another rescue, home with her, which would have been alright except that princess daughter decided she wanted nothing more to do with Molly after a day or two. This meant that Dog Mother and I had the responsibility of taming that scared little mini-pin chihuahua so that she would understand that she was now part of a loving family. I should tell you that we also fattened Molly up - she came to us barely weighing 6 lb. soaking wet having been neglected by her prior owner - she's now about 10 lb. and has a very pretty and shiny black coat. Molly really is a princess, or so she thinks she is, but we do play pretty often. She likes to annoy me every now and then, but I take her tiny paw in between my jaw and give her a lick and she kisses me back. I think she understands that I could easily eat her for a snack, but I don't. Dog Mother calls me a "mush" but I just see myself as a "gentle giant." I prefer that description: much more manly and in keeping with my character.

Over the years, we added Bailey and Floyd to our family - why our dog family is called "Bailey's Gang" probably has more to do with respect for chronological age of dog (Bailey is the old-lady dog of the house) and not seniority in terms of who's lived here the longest - but I'm definitely the head dog here. Of course, I now have a new issue to deal with - a new addition who Dog Mother will have to provide you more details about. His name is "Mr. Chips" and he was the filthiest, smelliest, most neglected and sickest dog I ever saw Dog Mother bring home. He's certainly been on the mend, but trouble is...for a little dog he has to understand who is boss around here. I'll have to keep you posted as to how it goes. It's our newest challenge.

Hugs, snuffles and woofs, from the Bailey Gang Boss,
King-Pup