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Being part of dog rescue can be a difficult thing.
I’ve fostered a number of dogs now, many of them puppies. I’ve dealt with all sorts of worms and parasites; but I had not yet encountered the dreaded parvovirus.
On Saturday, I picked up two puppies: Ben and Brenda. I was to foster Ben, and another lady to foster Brenda. At the time, we thought they were healthy, happy, but stressed puppies.
Over the last few days, Brenda got steadily more sick, and Ben started to get diahrea and yesterday began vomiting. Brenda was tested for parvo - it came back positive. So Ben got vetted and he also was positive for parvo.
Now, I know something about parvo: it’s almost everywhere dogs are in public, including dog parks, pet stores, etc. It lives a long time and is very hard to get rid. Puppies are the most likely to get it, and there are excellent vaccinations against it.
But I’d never dealt with it.
Now I know that parvo mimics many other health issues. Parvo itself seems to rarely kill from what I’m reading; what does the puppy in is dehydration and organ failure - secondary symptoms of parvovirus.
But this isn’t about the “technicalities” behind parvo. This is about rescuing.
I vaccinate my dogs. They go to daycare, they go in public places, and I foster. They just got boostered 2 weeks ago; still I called my vet immediately, terrified that I had put my family at risk.
Mali, as a cat, can’t get canine parvovirus from what I’m reading.
But even knowing logically that I’d done everything in my power to protect my dogs from potential foster dog illnesses; I was scared. Had I put my dog’s lives in jeopardy over a somewhat selfish desire to help other dogs? Why hadn’t I put Elka and Milton’s health as my primary concern, and found some other way to help dogs if that was my mission?
What if Elka and/or Milton got parvovirus and died? That would be my fault, for putting them at risk in the first place.
What if, what if, what if.
The thing about me, you see, is that I’m paranoid. Ever since Mali taught me how bad illnesses can be, every little health concern for my furry family has gotten checked out. They’re all well vetted, tested, and taken care of, possibly to some extreme. But here I was bringing in strange dogs that could attack or make sick my loved ones.
I’d been extremely lucky in not getting a truly sick dog before. Brenda passed away from parvovirus overnight; and while Ben is recovering and doing well, if he passed away here I’d have not only the concerns for my family, but the self-blame and pain of seeing a puppy die while under my care.
Ultimately, I know that I need to get passed this. My dogs are safe, Mali is safe. If the vaccines are going to fail, they could fail at daycare, at the dog park, on a walk around the neighborhood.
I can’t live my life paranoid.
What I can do is turn down puppy fosters for the next year until hopefully the parvovirus is out of my yard, and take only 6 month+ fosters that are fully vaccinated. I can make sure I work with rescue agencies that temperament test their dogs with other dogs and with cats.
But I can not live my life fearful that some good thing I’m doing is going to end in disaster.
I won’t be ruled by fear. I’ll experience it, but I’ll also overcome it.
Rescuing dogs has taught me a lot, both about myself and about others. But perhaps this is the most important lesson for me: not to live in fear and paranoia.
-Lisa, on April 5, 2011 at 11:27 am