The Pet Life: Meet Otis

Hello Darlin’,

It’s time I share the story of how Otis came into my life.

___

It was a hot, September day in 2015.  

My grandmother’s funeral.

She was more than just a grandmother, she helped raise me, practically as her own child, she was my mentor…she was my best friend. She was diagnosed and terminally ill for a few years - the last was the worst.

I didn’t like talking about how her death made me feel. I never talked to anyone about how I cried multiple times a day. At work, driving….especially driving. Forty five minutes of unbearable, soul swallowing silence with myself.  

I’ve battled depression before, mixed with a wonderful cocktail of anxiety. For me, depression and anxiety typically grinned its crooked smile in the form of insomnia. But this time it was different. This time I had a full time job, this time I had someone watching me, who loved me so much they noticed small things like me not sleeping. This time it wasn’t just the lack of sleep, instead I also began eating my feelings… a lot, because I didn’t want to talk about it.

I made a decision to make a change for myself when I had a bad anxiety attack and migraine while I was home alone.

As my fiance was taking more overnight trips, I couldn’t get comfortable being in my apartment when I was left alone. Despite having my two cats, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the neighbors or the location (they were both great), it was just me. My anxiety would take over and get the best of me. This wasn’t anything new, I had the same issues and fears as a young child as well, but with the recent events and being depressed, it was a toxic combination that I was tired of facing alone.

When I was home alone at night, I’d lay wide awake on the couch, with the front door barricaded, waiting, listening to every little sound I could possibly hear. I could hear muffled conversations from the surrounding apartments, TVs, music, until finally they all went to sleep and it was just me, laying awake, waiting. Once day break finally broke, I felt the false sense of security in the sun’s rays and could sleep peacefully. One night, it started out as the usual, but by the next morning I was battling a harsh migraine, alone.

Every time I slept I dreamed of my grandmother. It was in small moments, vivid moments, like a silent film. Once, she was standing on her porch with her husband hooked around her arm, they were young again, in their twenties. She was standing on the edge of the porch, as if she were leaving. She had a beautiful green dress on with a matching hat. I was standing by her front door watching her at the end of the porch. She was smiling and waving at me. Waving goodbye. They turned to walk away and I’d wake up cold, crying, alone.

I needed to change that feeling, I needed a new routine. My fiancé always wanted a bulldog and I never had a moment growing up that my family didn’t have a dog, so I started searching local rescues and animal shelters. It was just after Thanksgiving that I found Otis. He was then named Krackel. He was pudgy, wrinkly, and full of attitude.  

December 1st.

We drove four hours alongside rivers, through small towns, through mountains, past a nuclear power plant, past miles and miles of farm land and historical treasures just to get to him. We made it to the family home at dusk. Otis’ mom was playing with the children in the living room, jumping from couch to floor, clearly loving life. The puppies were in a custom made play pen, waiting for us, wiggling, curious, and barking.

Otis caught my eye and didn’t stop watching me. I knew instantly from the photos it was him. He came up to us at the edge of the pen and licked our fingers, and paced with his siblings who were all watching us. He wasn’t barking or jumping. He was glued to us, curious. They picked him up and handed him to me. I knew then he was coming with me. I only let him go for a moment to let my fiancé hold him, for the official double approval test. I sat in the back seat of my fiancé’s Jeep with him, getting him situated in blankets to stay warm while the heat kicked in. We named him Otis before we even pulled out of their driveway.

O T I S

My boy. My precious, rambunctious, spoiled, lightning bolt of love.

He filled my heart with pure light. I stayed home from work for two weeks with him. I taught him how to climb stairs, I spoiled him with treats, I played with every toy we got him, I watched him chase his cat sisters. He made me laugh, a lot, and he took naps with me constantly. And when I needed him most, he sat next to me as I cried and I grieved my way through the holidays without my grandmother. He wasn’t there to fill the void I felt with her passing, but he was there to console me enough to get through it. He became my unofficial emotional support dog through those difficult times. I would still dream about her, but when I woke up feeling cold and alone, I reached over and he was there, snoring loudly next to me.

Today, he’s three years old. Born Sept 30th 2015 – three weeks after grandma had passed.

He’s my light, my heart. He sits with me, always having to lean on me one way or another. He sleeps in our bed, he naps on the couches and chairs, and even has his own special chair in my office. He is spoiled-a true momma’s boy. He has so much of a unique personality that it’s uncanny. I know his facial ques better than anyone. I can look at him and instantly know when he’s tired, when he’s not feeling well, when he’s hungry or wants to play or wants to go outside or just wants to say, ‘I love you”. He would go anywhere and everywhere with me just to be by my side. He’s protective of me when he thinks he has to be, and he’s always there when I need a hug. He’s the best dog I’ve ever had – much more than I ever expected.

We trained him around our business locations to socialize him with a wide range of people from toddlers to the elderly. We’d take him to pet shops and parks to play with other dogs. Now, he gets to spend his days relaxing on the couch while I work from home. We take strolls through the neighborhood and he loves passing time by people watching from his favorite window when he isn’t napping or playing with his siblings.

Otis loves to swim in the pool in the summertime even though I just about have a heart attack each year worrying and fussing over how exhausted he gets. In the winter, he loves playing in the snow. He loves car rides and exploring new places. As long as there’s plenty of nap room and lap room for front seat co-piloting, he’s a happy camper. I plan all of our family vacations around places he can come, because he deserves to enjoy his life with us. We drove to Florida in 2016 so he could be with us – we celebrated his first birthday there with hats, new toys and special doggy cake.

I get asked all the time – yes, he had a successful neutering surgery. We debated this for months – what if we wanted to continue his bloodline, what if it changed his mood/behavior, what if we didn’t and it caused health issues later in life, what if we did and it caused health issues, what if he didn’t make it?

There were so many what ifs, but we ultimately decided it was the healthiest choice for him. He made it through the procedure just fine, and was back to his normal self in no time. By day three he wanted to jump off of everything again so much I was worried he’d rip his stitches-but he didn’t!

A few months later we found a specialist to do a consult and surgery on Otis’ elongated soft palate (*the soft palate is the fleshy, flexible part toward the back of the roof of the mouth that partially separates the mouth from the pharynx – Dictionary and Merriam Webster ). The elongated flap was causing him to have breathing problems (excessive and heavy snoring and excessive struggles with breathing normally when getting excited or heated). We knew that if he was struggling at barely the age of 1, he would triple that in two years.

Brachycephalic breeds are congenitally prone to elongated soft palates and other breathing impairments because of the way they’re physically designed with shortened snouts. It’s something every owner of an English Bulldog should be aware of because more often than not, something will come up. They always warn that it can be an expensive breed because of the amount of health issues they’re prone to, which is why we invested in pet insurance.

I get asked all the time if we thought getting the soft palate surgery was the right thing to do and it was by far the best decision we made for Otis. We knew he was in the best care possible at Hunt Valley Animal Hospital. Before doing anything, HVAH ran extensive tests to ensure Otis would be safe during the procedure. With their top of the line surgical equipment, their advanced knowledge, passion for the breed and their reputation were impossible to match by another local vet for us. We felt confident in their professional abilities, and it’s why we still take our boys there today.

Today, he still doesn’t snore as much, he can be outside and run around a little longer and breathe a little easier. His quality of life has been increased drastically. With that being said, every dog and every case is different.

He’s still a bulldog, so there are still plenty of limitations to the amount of over-excitement and over-extended use of energy that I let him go to. He still very much “gasses out” quicker than other breeds, and it’s hard to explain to people that my dog “requires” A/C to stay healthy and safe during hot summer days. Too much continued and repeated strain on the heart, especially in heat, could kill him. People sometimes do not realize that dogs can also suffer from heat stroke. I take meticulous measures to look after him and keep him safe at all times, because at the end of the day I know what’s best for my dog.

Otis has been and will always be my light. My children have four paws, and I wouldn’t change anything about them, they each fill my life with joy that cannot be compared or substituted.

He’s been an amazing big brother to Boris, showing him how to do simple things, caring for him, sharing everything with him, and even showing him the best places of the back yard. They’re inseparable and it’s absolutely beautiful.

I am incredibly thankful for having him in my life.

Until next time,

M.E.

P.S. - I am not a professional or paid affiliate of any veterinarian practice - all of my shared experiences are of my own and of my own beliefs. None of my comments or blogs should be used in any way to diagnose a possible medical impairment. Always consult a licensed professional if you have any questions or concerns about yourself or your family.