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With the hope that the experiences related in this article will be of
benefit to others, I am compelled to share the trauma and heartbreak
that my husband and I had to endure during the illness, treatment,
and subsequent loss of our beloved German Shepherd Dog, Opean's
Panzer Shadow. I am sharing my feelings with the dog fancy because of
the helplessness I felt, the desperation with which I had to cope
and, ultimately, the decisions I had to make.
I have loved the German Shepherd Dog for as long as I can remember
and have owned German Shepherds for thirty years. My dogs are my
life; I would do anything to see that they are properly cared for and
that they receive the best veterinary medical attention possible.
We purchased Shadow in July of 1989 at eight weeks of age, and we
could immediately tell that he was very intelligent and could readily
learn whatever task was set before him. We later came to realize that
he was sometimes too smart for his own good, as you will read in one
of the events related later in this article. Shadow was bred from a
very good line, had training in both conformation and obedience, and
had received lessons from a well-known animal behavior consultant and
trainer. We had high hopes that he would live a long, happy and
productive life. He was, however, somewhat shy, which caused
behavioral problems in certain situations, especially in his relating
readily to strangers and new situations. This compounded my anxiety
in dealing with his illness.
Having gone through this experience, I have learned a great deal
about his medical condition and want to share with others my thoughts
and concerns. Many people are apparently touched by this
little-heard-of problem.
Shadow was diagnosed in January of 1993 as having perianal fistulas,
which are open, draining tracts and sores in the skin and mucus
membranes surrounding the rectum. I was familiar with a fistulous
condition in human beings but I had not thought of my pet having this
problem. My first hint that something was wrong with Shadow was when
I noticed that he had a problem with defecation. He also began
licking the affected area almost constantly. On an immediate visit to
our veterinarian, I was told that this condition is very hard to
treat, in fact, perianal fistulas usually are not responsive to
simple treatment and that there in no universally effective method
for their prevention or treatment. I must tell you at this point that
from the time of diagnosis, without the intense concern and support
of my veterinarian, I could not have gone through all those months
feeling as confident as I came to feel - that we were doing the best
that we could in caring for Shadow. I had the utmost confidence in
her and trusted her recommendations and judgement.
I learned that perianal fistulas are most common in German Shepherd
Dogs, although other breeds, including English and Irish Setters,
Labrador Retrievers, and sometimes Collies, are affected. The exact
cause of perianal fistulas is apparently not known. It is believed
that they could be congenital or develop from infection and that the
broad-based, partially depressed tail of certain breeds permits too
much fecal contact with the area around the rectum, thus encouraging
superficial pyoderma and resulting in fistula formation. I was told
that a fistula usually begins with a formation about the size of the
point of a pin, by the time you notice that something is wrong, it
has progressed to a great extent.
The condition is usually very painful for the affected animal.
Inflammation around the anus usually occurs, and fistulous tracts
form in the skin around the anus and sometimes in the rectum. Further
research in to methods of treatment lead me to discover that many
surgical procedures have been used for treatment, ranging from mild
excision of a small fistula to complete excision of all the tissue
surrounding the anus. Cryosurgery has also at times been advised.
Research has shown that all procedures often relapse and sometimes
create strictures and incontinence. I further learned that the only
procedure that has an acceptable success rate is the close amputation
of the tail, which I promptly put out of my mind with no intention of
going to this extreme. To me the tail of the German Shepherd is one
of the most beautiful parts of the dog, and I would not think of
having this type of surgery for Shadow. This was in January, at the
onset of our long journey.
After being informed of the history of the treatment of perianal
fistulas, I had to make a decision about what method of treatment to
begin for Shadow. Something had to be done; without treatment the
fistulas continue to worsen, and the tracts spread muck like roots
from a plant or shrub do in the ground. It was recommended by my
veterinarian that Shadow have surgery to try to get a grip on the
fistulas. I felt that there really was no other choice because of the
extent of his condition and because of his personality. He would not
tolerate conventional treatment and medication well, such as chemical
cauterization of the fistulous tracts, which is often advised, and it
would be with difficulty that my husband or I could treat him, as
would be necessary, on a daily basis.
However, we decided to watch his condition for a month and try to
treat him as well as possible. I dreaded the thought of putting him
through the surgery and follow-up care. During the next few weeks we
made several trips back to the veterinarian, which for us involved a
forty minute drive into Little Rock and then the return trip home. I
often had to take leave from work, and I am very grateful for the
consideration and understanding from my employer throughout Shadow's
illness. During the month of February, Shadow's fistulas only seemed
to get worse; therefore, his surgery was scheduled for March, when I
would have a week off from my job during spring vacation.
I had a few weeks in the interim to think about whether or not I was
doing the right thing, even though I knew there was really no
alternative at this point. I talked with fellow members of my dog
club, the German Shepherd Dog Club of Little Rock, and made many
phone calls to try to find someone who had been through a similar
situation. I found no one. It seemed as though no one knew much about
this; indeed, most had not even heard of perianal fistulas. Some of
my phone calls were to member of the German Shepherd Dog Club of
America. I thought perhaps they might have knowledge of the condition
or know of those who had suffered through it. It would have been of
comfort to me just to talk to someone about what they did in a
similar circumstance. Everyone with whom I spoke was very kind but, I
am sorry to say, not very knowledgeable in the area, even those in
positions whom I thought should have been able to provide information
or direct me to a source that could. I was only told about one other
person who had experienced this condition with her dog, bit it had
not progressed to the extent we were facing. It seemed as though
perianal fistulas were uncommon for our breed. Why then, do records
indicate that German Shepherd Dogs are very often affected?
After speaking with two veterinary teaching hospitals, one located in
the North and one in the South, I was informed that they see many
German Shepherds with perianal fistulas and perform numerous
surgeries to try to alleviate the condition. Everyone was very
sympathetic to my situation, but offered no hope for helping Shadow
other than what I already had been advised. I was just hoping that
something would turn up, something that someone had tried that was
unfamiliar to me. Nothing did. I think it is very natural to hope for
a cure and to try to seek comfort among others who understand what
you are feeling. You just reach out to seek every possible avenue for
treatment, whether it be for your animal or a human member of your
family.
During the week of Shadow's surgery in March, we made a trip to the
veterinarian each day because I had brought him home, feeling that he
would be more comfortable in familiar surroundings. We had never been
separated; he was my constant companion, making every step I did
throughout each day. Perhaps I was thinking of myself too much in
being without him, for I now realize that I should have left him in
the vet's care for a few days initially. Although we make it fine for
the first few days, I knew it would be best for him to return to her
office to stay for a while. I checked on him by phone each day he was
away from home, and it was a very joyous occasion when I picked him
up after five days. We would hope for the best now. He felt good, and
I was optimistic that all would end well, knowing all along that it
was not likely. It wasn't long before he began to have a problem with
stool elimination again, and it was noted that strictures had begun
to form in the anal region, which is not uncommon.
We made many trips back and forth to our veterinarian over the next
six months. On several occasions Shadow was left overnight for
observation and follow-up care. The anal area was cauterized when it
became apparent that fistulas were again beginning to form. The anus
tract was stretched to try to alleviate his problem with elimination.
During these six months my veterinarian had consulted with colleagues
in her field as well as with the medical staff at Louisiana State
University School of Veterinary Medicine.
The situation did not look good, but we were hoping to give him a few
more good years if we could just keep his condition under control. By
October it was apparent that the fistulas were recurring, or new ones
were forming. I was advised that consideration of tail amputation
should be given due thought. Here I was faced with this alternative
which might help; but I had put this out of my mind early on. I had
planned not to give it another thought. But when I was told that my
choices were to put him down now or to take him to a specialist,
preferably at a veterinary teaching hospital, for evaluation and
possible tail amputation, I began to consider just going for an
evaluation. This route was advised because of the number of similar
conditions that such a place comes in contact with and due to
surgical experience in the area by their medical staff. We wanted
only the best for Shadow. I agreed to give this some thought.
Tail amputation is advised for certain animals who suffer from
perianal fistulas, depending on the extent of the condition and the
problems that the animal is having. Removal of the tail allows the
anal region to heal more readily, with more air being able to reach
the area; and without the tail, fecal contact would be eliminated.
Fistulas also sometimes form under the tail itself, as was the case
with Shadow.
After discussing our dilemma with fellow dog club members, friends,
and most of all, our veterinarian, my husband and I decided that we
should give Shadow this chance. Shadow did not want to die; he
deserved to live if there was any hope.
An appointment was set up for us with a surgeon at Louisiana State
University School of Veterinary Medicine in Baton Rouge. I chose this
veterinary college because of their excellent reputation, because my
veterinarian had been in contact with their staff, and because we do
not have one closer to our home in central Arkansas. Baton Rouge is
an eight-hour trip for us, so both my husband and I took days off
work to make the trip. We left early on a Thursday morning for a 3:30
pm appointment that same day, driving in the rain all the way to
Louisiana. Shadow was tranquilized before leaving home, because he
was not used to riding crated for such a long time and because he
would be in strange surroundings upon arrival, with unfamiliar
persons, which usually caused him concern.
This was a hard trip for us; a hard choice, for I knew in the back of
my mind that the matter of tail amputation was going to have to be
dealt with. The doctors at LSU were very kind and explained their
findings after an initial examination upon our arrival. I was told
that tail amputation was the only thing that might help alleviate his
perianal fistulas, but that there were no guarantees. I felt that the
surgeon and her resident were very knowledgeable in this area, and I
could only rely on their good judgement. I asked what she would do if
Shadow were her dog. Her reply was that she would have the surgery
done in a heartbeat. I was worried about what he would be going
through and the pain he would endure. I was told that it would
probably bother me more than it did him; that it would not be any
worse than what he had already experienced. I was again told that my
only other choice was to put him down. What do you do? Your dog is
four years old, healthy otherwise, with a real zest for life even
after all he had been through. When it got right down to the bottom
line, I had to give him another chance at life.
I gave my permission for the tail amputation surgery and left Shadow
for his surgery to be performed the following day. I was told that,
in addition, they would do very aggressive laser surgery on the
fistulas. I planned for him to remain there for about ten days for
recuperation.
As I left Shadow, I told him I would be back, for he knew what I was
saying; he understood more than most. I left the hospital with tears
in my eyes, dreading the ordeal, but knowing there was no other
choice. My husband and I returned home the following day, at which
time I had a message to call the surgeon for a follow-up report. When
I spoke with her, I learned that Shadow's condition was worse than
the brief, initial examination showed. The fistulous tracts reached
into the colon, and part of the lining of the anus was destroyed. I
again asked the doctor what she would do if he were her dog. She
would give him time to see what would happen, even though the
prognosis did not look good. I took her advice and again began to
hope for the best.
The LSU staff was very kind to call me each day to report on Shadow's
condition. Even though he did not relate well to new surroundings and
to strangers, they were coping well with him. He apparently had
caused no problems. I, of course, was very anxious for him to return
home, but realized that it would be at least three to four weeks
before we would know if the surgery was going to be of any help.
I was apprehensive about leaving Shadow in this strange place because
of his personality, but I had begun to relax a bit after learning
that he was adjusting well. Or so we thought. After he had been there
five days, I received a phone call and learned that every dog owner's
worst nightmare was happening to me. Shadow had disappeared from his
chain-link run. Not only this, but he had disappeared from the
veterinary hospital building and was lost somewhere in Baton Rouge.
You cannot imagine the trauma I felt when I received that call. Here
I was, 350 miles away, and there was nothing I could do. I had to ask
- Why me? I try to be so careful not to let my dogs run loose or put
them in any circumstance where they might get lost. The LSU staff had
already alerted the local law enforcement and animal control agencies
of his disappearance. An article was run in the Baton Rouge paper;
the public was made aware that he had just had surgery and was not
the type of dog who would just go up and make friends with someone he
might come into contact with.
Shadow was smart, I knew; he was too smart at times for his own well
being. But how did he open his gate to the run, as well as that of
another chain link enclosure, plus an outside door of the hospital? I
have no doubt that he used his time following surgery to think about
how he could get out and head for home. He had always been able to
figure out how to get out of doing what he didn't want to do. In this
case, he did not want to stay in Louisiana; he wanted to come home.
For the next 36 hours, we were certain that we would never see our
beloved pet again. Every worst thought ran through my mind: Had he
been run over; had he been abducted and taken God knows where? I
contacted friends in Baton Rouge and members of their local German
Shepherd Dog Club. Everyone was more than concerned, and they did all
humanly possible to help find Shadow. After thirty-six hours with him
on the run, we received a call from the resident at LSU in charge of
his care. Shadow had been found, returned, and was unhurt and
unharmed. A member of their staff had been able to capture him in
downtown Baron Rouge on a dock on the Mississippi River, following
reports that he had been spotted in the area. I was told that he had
the choice of plunging into the river or allowing his capture. He was
smart enough to realize what his choice had to be. You can't imagine
the joy we felt when we received this call. Immediately, we made
plans to travel back to Louisiana to bring him home. This we did, and
I can't describe the joy both Shadow and I felt when we were
reunited. It was again raining, and we made the eight-hour trip home
in fog and a constant downpour, but we had our Shadow back again. God
had answered our prayers; he was safely returned to us, and after
this ordeal, he just had to have a good recovery from his last
surgery.
Even without his tail, he seemed in very good spirits and had no
problem with his sense of balance. I had worried about this, although
I had been told that tail amputation would not affect his balance in
any way. He did not seem to be in any pain, except from some type of
chemical irritation on the scrotum which, we believe, he came in
contact with during his time on the run.
We had called our veterinarian in Little Rock and set up an
appointment for the morning after our arrival home. The area on which
Shadow's surgery had been performed had to be washed daily and kept
clean and free from infection. So the next morning we headed for
Little Rock for follow-up care. The anal area involved in the laser
treatment and additional fistula surgery was left open and
unbandaged. It had to heal from the inside out. During the next few
weeks, we made many trips back and forth to our vet. We were keeping
our fingers crossed that everything would heal properly and that no
new fistulas would appear. His stool elimination was not good, but he
was on a daily dosage of stool softeners and a diet of soft food
which, we were told, he would have to remain on the rest of his life.
He was making it okay, though; the tail amputation area healed very
nicely, with no problems. He didn't seem to be concerned in the least
that he no longer had a tail. And it did not look that bad to see him
without it.
In November and December the visits to the vet continued. The
affected area looked okay, then began to need further cauterization.
My veterinarian was in contact with the surgeon at LSU, to keep her
informed of his condition.
By January 1994, we knew that fistulas were again appearing, and it
seemed as though we were traveling in a never-ending circle. Where to
go from here? I knew the inevitable was upon me. I had made up my
mind that I would not put Shadow through any more trauma. On our
visit to the veterinarian in the latter part of January, I was told
that his condition was not improving; in fact, it was worse, and by
this time Shadow was again having a real problem with stool
elimination. Strictures were hindering any progress, as they had
almost from the beginning. They were caused, we believe, not from the
surgery, but from the fistulas themselves. I could not take him back
to LSU for another evaluation, but through my vet and her contact
with the doctor at LSU, we decided that it probably would not help to
go through this all over again.
I left him with my veterinarian to give her an opportunity to confer
one last time with his surgeon at LSU. Upon receiving a call shortly
after arriving home, I gave my permission to have her put him down. I
had decided that I did not want to be there; I felt I could not
handle this in any dignified manner. And I trusted her completely to
make his final minutes as peaceful as possible. By this time, Shadow
had become friends with all of her staff and was not uncomfortable
there with them.
Shadow died on January 27, 1994. Of course, I miss him more than you
can imagine, but in my heart I know I made the right decision. It is
with tears in my eyes that I conclude this article, but Shadow is at
peace now, and he is no longer suffering or under any stress. I will
never forget him - such a wonderful companion, yet a dog with a very
different personality. To give your heart to a dog to love can bring
joy and pleasure, even with traumatic situations which may develop
along the way. The pleasure far outweighs the pain.
I have no regrets. I know that we did everything humanly possible for
Shadow, spending hundreds of dollars along the way. I know that I
could not have prevented his condition from forming - that its
occurrence was not the result of anything I did or did not do. If I
had it to do over, I would do the same thing. This gives me comfort
in our loss.
Since Shadow's death I have been fortunate to have been contacted by
many others who have either been through the same illness with their
German Shepherd Dog, or who are at this time facing the problem. I
have corresponded with and spoken with persons all over the United
States who feel as I do: that this is a devastating illness. As I
look back on my own experience with the problem of perianal fistulas,
I believe that early diagnosis is imperative for any hope of
recovery. However, every situation must be dealt with individually.
What method of treatment works for one may not necessarily work for
another. I am convinced that it is very important to keep watch for
any formation of fistulas and begin treatment as quickly as possible
after diagnosis.
All cases do not have to end like ours did. If caught early enough,
there may be a chance of recovery. You must trust your veterinarian
and/or surgeon and let them help you with your decisions in the event
you ever must go through treatment for your dog for perianal
fistulas.
From conversations with others since Shadow's illness, I believe that
most dogs' owners are willing to try almost any method of treatment
that might work to cure the fistulous condition. You feel very
helpless as though you are sitting on a time bomb just waiting for
the result. But you must have patience and optimism that all will end
well. Owners of dogs with perianal fistulas want to know what to do
for their pets. They are frightened when they realize the seriousness
of the condition, but more times than not they do not know what to do
- what the best method of treatment to follow is. They will try many
methods they think might help.
If I am ever faced with the same situation again, I will deal with it
anew on the basis of the individual dog. And perhaps new methods of
treatment will be available. Perhaps more research will have been
conducted, with good results for a good prognosis.
It is my hope that some type of unified effort can be made by the
American Kennel Club, as well as national breed clubs, to organize
some type of system whereby persons such as myself can reach out and
be put in touch with others who have had similar problems with their
pets, not just those with perianal fistulas, but other heartbreaking
conditions as well. This would help emotionally, even if not
physically, for the animal. It is my further hope that more be
written in order that owners of breeds most often affected by
perianal fistulas may become aware of how devestating this condition
can be, for they do exist, and apparently in quite large numbers.
The German Shepherd Dog Club of America was kind enough to allow me
to share my experience with Shadow in their publication. Since then
many interested persons are working with me to help others, and it is
our desire to form a support group to give moral support to pet
owners facing the problems with fistulas.
Perhaps you will be glad to note I again own German Shepherd Dogs. Of
course they do not take Shadow's place but they do fill a void and
help me continue in my love for the breed. Each dog is different but
you love each for itself, and you give the new puppies all the love
that you have felt for all its predecessors down through the years. I
cannot imagine life without a German Shepherd Dog.