Prior
to taking Rimadyl, my dog (Tara) was “gracefully” aging. She walked slower, walked a shorter distance, independently
climbed up 12 stairs but not down them. Her attitude was mellow
and sweet, and she was basically content.
Additionally, Tara got her regular check-ups, plus a couple
of extras here and there for bladder infections. She had a
few aches and pains, but never moaned or groaned. She
slept all night and did not appear to have much activity while I
was at work. She greeted me every time I came home, and always
had a pleasant and welcoming disposition.
I felt comfortable with Tara’s senior years. Overall,
she was like a “little old lady without any complaints”.
Her life was full of grace. With this, I thought that she would
also die gracefully. Tara did not appear to be in any tremendous
amount of pain, but the “experts” said that she
was, and I believed them.
After
taking Rimadyl, my dog’s remaining months were
spent like a horrible nightmare! I am sending you our story
to help you gain a better understanding from what happened
in our experience. If you are interested in the details, please
read on.
My
dog, Tara was laid to rest on May 5, 2005. Here’s
what happened:
On December 18, 2004, I put Tara on Rimadyl. Almost overnight,
she became extremely restless. She did not sleep through the
night, and kept waking me up to go outside. Sometimes she would
urinate, but most of the time, she just wanted to go out.
Within a week after taking Rimadyl, she was diagnosed with
a bladder infection. She was put on medication for that, and
although it cleared up, the restlessness remained.
After approximately two weeks, and again after two more weeks
of neither of us getting proper sleep, I spoke to the vet’s
staff. We misdiagnosed Tara’s situation. We thought that
the restlessness was contributed to her “renewed life,
thanks to Rimadyl”. The recommendation: “Give it
more time”. So, we kept her on the medication.
Soon afterwards, Tara showed signs of loss
of coordination. Almost daily upon returning from work, I would rescue her from
places that she got stuck in such as, between the couch and
the wall, from underneath the bed, from underneath the dining
room chairs and end tables, in amongst the fireplace tools,
etc. Additionally, she lost her ability to sit down and lay
down properly. Her two front legs would spread off to each
side, and several times, one leg would slide under the couch
or under an ornamental rug, where she would remain stuck until
rescued.
(Prior to taking Rimadyl, my dog had good common sense. While
she had a reputation for being a bit “high-spirited and
curious”, she knew better than to get herself stuck in
places that she couldn’t get herself out of).
Shortly after that, Tara lost muscle mass. She
could not stand in place for longer than three seconds,
sit up straight, or
get up independently. While I was at work, she would scoot
around the house on her side, and with her feet, smear
her blood. She did this by repeatedly moving her front
limbs back
and forth on the carpeting until friction caused her feet
to bleed.
I tried to figure out what was causing her to behave this
way. Was she bored while I was at work? Was she frightened?
To make
her more comfortable, I brought a television into the room
and put it where she could see it. I also built a hedge
of protection around her with pillows, and often times,
she would
somehow move them out of the way, and scoot around on the
carpeted floor sideways, leaving deep smears of blood that
came from her feet wherever she got stuck. Her largest
trail of blood
was approximately 3 inches wide by 18 feet long.
Finally, on February 12, 2005 I took Tara off Rimadyl. The
main reason: Deterioration of the mind and body. Her conditions
were emotional restlessness and physical injury, compounded
with boldness, loss of coordination, and loss of physical strength.
My
Tara never regained her days of “prior to Rimadyl”.
From December 2004, until the day she died, she slept an average
of 90 consecutive minutes at a time. Many nights, she woke
me every 10 minutes. On only two occasions, she slept for 6
consecutive hours. With the exception of May 5, 2005, she was
awake every time I returned home, which made me wonder if she
slept at all while I was away.
By mid March, Tara was totally bedridden and remained uneasy
day and night. Her shoulders, neck, and front legs grew increasingly
stiff. Her hips were limp. She could not lower her head to
eat or drink. She could not turn her head to the left or right.
Her eyelashes would sometimes stick to her eyeballs, and the
area above her eyes began to cave in. Frequently, she would
slowly pull her head backward as she laid on her side, and
she would remain stuck in that position until rescued. She
hadn’t scooted around the house since February.
Prior to taking Rimadyl, although Tara walked a little “different”,
she was always very agile, coordinated, careful, and alert.
I have pictures of her climbing a ladder, carrying big sticks,
running, swimming, barking, and being a tough and enduring
creature.
To see Tara’s body deteriorating from a strong 78 lbs.
to a fragile 49 lbs. between December and February, then to
approximately 40 lbs. by May is the part that distresses me
the most as I represent the condition of my precious pet. Tied
for first place is my memory of her constant “demand” for
comfort and peace.
I am not bitter or seeking revenge. With this letter; however,
I hope that you will address the questions stated, and learn
valuable information from our personal experience. Had I been
given the opportunity to read one letter like this one, the
vet’s staff and I would have been in better position
to make a more accurate determination when Tara first showed
signs of restlessness.
I ask that you share this information with the test laboratory.
Tara did not show any signs of improvement while
on Rimadyl. From the time she took her first dose of Rimadyl until four
days before she died, she ate the same amount of food, scarcely
slept, wanted to live, and wanted me to constantly be beside
her. With these conditions, the only thing that changed during
her last four days was her desire for food.
I hope that these facts will provide assistance as we continue
to explore methods to improve the quality of life for animals.
Please feel free to contact me any time. Tara left me with
a hug, and I am here to help.
Sincerely,
Camille Kulinski
