My sweet friend, dear Pax,
I last wrote a letter to my dog nearly eight years ago. I was on a plane, flying to say goodbye to your "brother" Skai, my first dog. At the time, I thought I could never feel the same connection with another dog. It took two years before we dared to adopt again.
I had one condition: I didn't want to choose a dog from a litter, knowing that the pup who joined us would hit the jackpot while leaving others behind. How could I pick one and not the others? Impossible!
We first searched for a rescue Border Collie puppy to do "the right thing." It was spring 2019, just before the COVID madness. Despite scanning rescue pages daily, we couldn't find any available pups. Then we found one—thousands of miles away in Oregon—but the rescue wouldn't hold the pup for us. I hope that the pup has a good life.
Our second attempt led us to a house with two puppies, but their mother seemed vicious, and the situation felt wrong. Then, through a Facebook page, we learned about you—waiting just 15 minutes away in a small farmhouse near Prague. Your two sisters had already been adopted, leaving only you. What a relief—we didn't have to choose!
Your human mom, Nella, did a fantastic job raising you. When we met you, you already knew how to explore fields without getting lost. You were naughty, sweet, and cuddly—and that hasn't changed.
I could not hold my tears back the first time we met you. We named you Pax, and I still think the name suits you so well. It means peace and "kissed by all." From that moment on, you became a traveler and never stopped. You may be one of the most traveled dogs in the world!
Your first trip took us through Germany and Austria. People couldn't resist stopping us because of your cuteness! We drove all day but had to return to Prague unexpectedly due to my mom's hospitalization. You behaved impeccably at the hotel—no accidents or whining—as if you'd been with us for years.
You grew up so fast! One day, you were a puppy; the next, a teenager; and soon after, an adult dog. Your first meal was raw meat and veggies—so exciting! For dessert, you had blueberries, which remain your favorite.
You've always been social—a happy butterfly—and stubborn, too! I wanted to go right during our first walk together while you insisted on going left! Eventually, I discovered your trick: three pats on your head would make you budge—and it still works!
Border Collies love having jobs. Yours has been keeping me safe from sleepwalking—a skill that required tough training but has been invaluable given my past injury from sleepwalking through the glass.
Your intelligence and opinionated nature have always stood out—sometimes too much for your good! Watching people's faces light up as you run on beaches or parks is priceless.
Your service dog status brought travel perks, and my remote job allows us to spend winters in Maui. You can come along.
We discovered your love for waves; perhaps you're a reincarnated otter or a dolphin? Yet whenever I swim, you bark and circle me, herding me out of what you see as danger.
It is nice to see someone cares ;-).
Unlike Skai, you became my teacher, ensuring I could help many more dogs as a veterinarian. As an official assistance dog, you had to be neutered—a decision I didn't feel good about but knew was necessary. Less than six months later, you started to limp.
We first noticed it when Auntie Karen Becker and Uncle Rodney visited us in Prague. Your limp progressively worsened, and despite trying everything—physiotherapy, acupuncture, and rehabilitation—nothing made a difference. We were devastated, and I felt like a failure.
You grew up so strong and healthy, yet suddenly this happened. It reawakened the trauma I experienced as a child when I watched my horse limping, unable to help. That experience inspired me to become a veterinarian, and now, more than forty years later, I am facing a similar situation. I should have known how to help you, but nothing seemed to work.
But you know me—I never give up. It took me two years to come across a study by Dr. Michelle Kutzler, whose research showed that spaying and neutering can lead to severe luteinizing hormone (LH) elevation. Elevated LH levels can cause inflammatory changes, organ disease, allergies, behavioral shifts, and injuries that don't heal. It was a tough decision to put you on hormone replacement therapy since only a few dogs in her study had undergone the treatment at the time. However, there was nothing else left to try.
It has been nine months since starting hormone replacement therapy, and you've returned to your old self—happy, strong, and, most importantly, lameness-free. After two years of limping and being unable to run on the beach or swim in the ocean, you're finally back to doing everything you love. I've never been prouder or happier as your dog dad.
Except just a week ago, you must have thought I was ready for another lesson. Early one morning, I noticed something strange—you were lying in a different spot than usual. When I tried to lift you onto the bed as I sometimes do, you were limp and weak.
At first, I thought you might have ingested human feces from someone intoxicated during one of our walks. You were so sleepy, barely able to keep your eyes open. But when we purchased and ran a comprehensive drug test on your urine, it came back negative.
As the day progressed, you didn't improve—you remained tired and sleepy—and cried out whenever we moved your neck. Since I'm not licensed in Maui, this was the first time I found myself as a veterinary clinic client rather than a vet. Fortunately, I encountered a young veterinarian—a 2023 U.S. graduate originally from Ukraine—who was lovely and allowed me to suggest a plan of action.
We ran blood work on you, which came back completely normal despite your apparent symptoms. Nothing made sense—if it were poisoning, your neck wouldn't be sore; if it were solely neck pain, you wouldn't be so severely lethargic.
Then it hit me! We had recently visited Auntie Gabriella on the east side of Maui—a region endemic to Rat Lungworm disease (Angiostrongylus cantonensis). Gabriella herself had been diagnosed with this dangerous parasite after ingesting contaminated greens or possibly a tiny slug carrying it. The parasite can migrate into the spinal canal or brain in mammals and cause neurological symptoms like paralysis, meningitis, blindness, or even death.
I remembered that you had been munching on grass during our visit a month prior—well within the parasite's incubation period—as usual. Could it be that you ingested an infected slug? Testing for Rat Lungworm isn't readily available for dogs in Maui or Hawaii;. At the same time, humans can be tested relatively quickly for confirmation; dogs cannot—not fast enough for certainty, anyway.
Being your vet and dog dad at once was agonizing; your health was entirely in my hands. You became more clingy during this time—as if asking me for help—and I knew I had to trust my instincts and treat you for Rat Lungworm disease despite the risks involved. In some cases of treatment with antiparasitic medication like Fenbendazole, symptoms can worsen as the parasites die off.
Despite these risks, I chose "The Route of Least Regret." We mixed the medication into your food—thankfully, your appetite remained strong—and began treatment immediately.
I also made a very firm decision not to give you prednisone, which the conventional treatment protocols suggested. Your immune system needed to be healthy, and based on my experience, I added a double dose of FeelGood Omega as an anti-inflammatory, cell repair, and nerve repair supplement.
I also gave you JointPowder for your neck pain and LiverTune for detox, just to be sure.
The next day brought slight improvement; you were better again by day two! I can finally breathe deeply six days later, knowing you're back to yourself. Today at the beach, you swam and ran joyfully like nothing had happened. You even had a great visit with your friend Lucy—and yes—even tried to hump her! How embarrassing! But honestly? It made me happy because it meant you were truly all right again.
My sweet friend Pax—I wish you had spared us this lesson, but I am also grateful for it. One of the reasons you recovered so well is how healthy and strong you are—a testament to feeding you well with essential supplements and ensuring regular exercise gave you a solid foundation for healing.
While we still don't have a definitive diagnosis yet—and may never get confirmation of Rat Lungworm—I have zero regrets about treating you with Fenbendazole based on hallmark symptoms: neck pain combined with central nervous system issues; your travel history to an infested region; and most importantly your positive response to treatment.
Some people think I am entirely against drugs—but that's not true. My goal as a veterinarian is always to minimize their use while ensuring they are employed when necessary—when no other option is left.
Thank you again for teaching me—even though this lesson was tough. You humble me repeatedly; through these experiences with you, I've become a better vet who can help more dogs—and their people, too.
One last thing: eight years ago, when Skai passed away, I thought I could never love another dog again—but Pax—I love you just as much. ❤️🐶
