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Boz's Story - Living With An Epileptic Mastiff  2

Karen Reagan of Braveheart Mastiffs
Bigpaws777@aol.com

I am writing this article about a subject that I feel as a club we need to be very concerned about. This is the subject of Epilepsy in Mastiffs.

My first contact with Kristen Dixon was back in 1997. Kristen, as some of you may know, is the Chairperson for the MCOA Epilepsy Subcommittee. We have never met personally, but we soon became familiar with each other over the Internet. We had many "crying sessions" together as we discussed the heartbreaking stories of our wonderful Mastiffs who were both suffering from the same affliction, seizures. My dog Bozwell was diagnosed with Idiopathic Epilepsy. At that time, Kristens boy Mason was diagnosed with Epilepsy also. It wasnt until many months and much turmoil later that Kristen learned that Mason was misdiagnosed, and that in fact had another serious illness in which Masons seizures were a secondary symptom. However, throughout her ordeal with Mason, she came to understand the agony of living and caring for a Mastiff with a seizure disorder. It was because of these experiences that we both shared, that Kristen asked me to write an article about my beloved Mastiff Bozwell. Kristen was also instrumental in organizing the MCOA Epilepsy Subcommittee. I hope the following story will give those of you with and or without an Epileptic Mastiff, courage and hope that we may find a cure for this devastating illness in our wonderful breed. This story is dedicated in Loving Memory of Mason and Bozwell.

When I think back on the experiences I had with Bozwell, "Boz" for short, it sometimes feels like eons ago and other times like just yesterday. It has taken me a long time to be able to sit down and put those memories on paper. Though I think about Boz on a daily basis, and these days those memories are more happy then sad, the thoughts of recalling all we went through together in those long 6 months of his illness seemed overwhelming to me.

Boz was not our first Mastiff. We had a wonderful Mastiff girl named Tory. She started our addiction to the breed. Soon after Tory came into our lives, it wasnt long before my husband Tom and I craved for another Mastiff. As I tell folks when they get their first Mastiff, be careful, you cant have just one. That is when we brought home our new bouncing baby boy Boz. He was the picture of a happy healthy Mastiff puppy. All those who came in contact with Boz instantly fell in love with him. I know, we all say that about our dogs, but Boz did seem to have that little extra spark in his personality that just made everyone think he was special. There wasnt a man, woman, child or other living creature that Boz didnt like.

When we purchased Boz we had decided we wanted to learn to show him. I had always wanted to learn to show and Boz was bought as a show quality pup. Soon we were taking handling classes together and learning the ropes in the ring. He put up with his Moms nervous ring manners and soon he was running around the ring like a Champ. We didnt always win the first prize ribbon, but we always had lots of fun. Boz enjoyed showing and he especially enjoyed all the attention lavished upon him at the shows. Judges and spectators alike would always make comments about how "energetic and happy he looked in the ring". He also was a bit of a clown in the ring. This either worked for us or against us depending upon the sense of humor of the judge on that particular day. The day Boz finished his Championship was one of my happiest moments. My first show dog, finished, totally owner handled. We finished his Championship in our hometown; so many friends were there to congratulate us. My husband and I couldnt have felt prouder. But soon this elation would come to an end.

Two days after Boz finished his Championship, 2 months after his second birthday, while we were still basking in the "Glory of Championship", our lives changed forever. In the still quiet of the early morning, I was awoken to a commotion on my bed. Boz always got up in bed with me in the morning after my husband would leave for work. This particular morning I was awoken to a violent shaking of my bed. As I finally woke up, thinking I must be having some kind of dream, I realized I was waking up to my worse nightmare. Boz was having a grand mal seizure. Being a nurse by trade, my mind knew what was happening but my heart was in a panic. I screamed for help, and the only ones who could hear me were my three children who were getting themselves ready for school. They ran to the bedroom to witness Bozs giant body shake itself off my bed and hit the floor with a loud thud. That vision still haunts me. My other dog, Tory, was on the bed with us at this time. At this point my kids were very frightened and crying. There is absolutely nothing worse then seeing one of these giant dogs having a seizure. The whole episode lasted about two minutes, though it seemed much longer. When Boz came out of the seizure he appeared to be in a daze. I would learn later that this was a normal post-ictal phase that happens after a seizure. It may last minutes to hours depending on the severity of the seizure. During this phase the dog may be blind and or deaf and very disoriented. During this period Boz sat up and just stared blankly and made a low growling noise. This too was very frightening because I had never heard any growl come out of this dogs mouth in the two years of his life. Tory was looking at Boz strangely and I was fearful that she might interpret Bozs behavior as aggression so I quickly got her off the bed and out my bedroom along with my then hysterical children. I too was in a major state of panic. I kept talking to Boz and petting him and trying to let him know I was there, while still trying to absorb what was happening. I kept saying that this must be a nightmare and I was hoping to wake up. Unfortunately that would not be the case.

This was the beginning of a 6 month long battle of what was diagnosed as Idiopathic Epilepsy. After the first seizure Boz was taken to the vet and worked up for any other cause of a seizure. For example, such things as poisoning, metabolic imbalance, cardiac problems could all contribute to possibilities of seizure activity. However, all of these tests were negative. According to my vet, Idiopathic Epilepsy is typically diagnosed around two years of age. It is categorized as seizures of unknown origin. It could be caused by something that happened at birth, but is more likely genetically transmitted. In short, you have a totally happy, healthy appearing dog until one day, bang out of the blue, seizures.

Initially, the vet decided to take the least invasive approach. Send us home and observe. I was instructed to keep a daily diary of Bozs behavior and any seizure activity. We decided not to start Boz on medications until we could see what type of pattern the seizures took on. If we were really lucky, he may never have another seizure at all. Unfortunately, we would not be that lucky. Boz started out having one seizure a month for a few months. As seizures usually do, they seem to take on a kind of pattern. His seemed to come during the full moon, and always upon waking in the morning. It was during this time that I came to understand the type of connection Boz and I had with each other. I always felt a special bond with this dog. More so than any other dog I had ever owned before him. I related this bond to the connection we made with each other during our "career" in the show ring. Being my first show dog, we traveled together all the time and were very "in tune" with each other. When Boz became ill that connection became very deep. So deep that I instinctively knew when Boz was going to have a seizure. I didnt realize this at first, and only thought it was coincidental. But as time passed, I saw the pattern. I would wake up out of a sound sleep just seconds before he would have a seizure. It was very strange, but I was always thankful that I was awake and able to be prepared to help him through the seizures that wracked his body.

The seizures were very frightening, and though experts say, "that the dog isnt aware of what is happening during the actual seizure," before the actual seizure occurs, there is a pre-seizure phase, also called an aura. During this phase the dog may exhibit bizarre behavior and have feelings of restlessness and apprehension. The post-seizure phase can last for hours. Because of "our connection" I was always able to hold him and talk to him through the seizures. As the months passed, Bozs seizures became more violent and more frequent. After the first three months or so he started to have cluster seizures. This is when you have multiple seizures one after another. At this point the vet started Boz on medication. Because the medication used to control seizures is metabolized in the liver, and can have an affect on liver function, the medication is given in the most minimal dose it can be that is effective in controlling the seizures. However, it is also dosed by the weight of the animal. Therefore, in Mastiffs, it is a pretty high dose. Again, the vet started Boz on the lowest possible dose, but soon had to increase the dose to control the seizures. The medication used on Boz was Phenobarbital. At that time that was the popular drug of choice for controlling seizures in dogs. Another drug that was beginning to be used was Potassium Bromide. My vet had decided however, to start out conservatively, and just use the one drug first. I have since learned that using a combination of the two drugs together has been more successful in lowering the toxicity effects of the drug therapy.

Just having a dog on Phenobarbital is a challenge. It is a central nervous system depressant, so your dog needs to build up a tolerance to it. While the dogs system is getting used to the drug he may be lethargic, unsteady on his feet and sleep a lot. I slowly saw my dogs wonderful personality fading. The vet told me that after a while Bozs body would acclimate to the drug and he would be more like his old self. In the mean time Bozs seizures again became more frequent. When this happens, the risk of Status Epilepticus becomes greater. This is a condition where your dog could seize and not stop. This is a true medical emergency.

I cant even begin to express the constant anxiety that the owner of a dog with Epilepsy deals with on a daily basis. And if your dog is a Mastiff the challenge is much greater. I did not want to leave my house. I lived in constant fear of Boz having a seizure when I was at work or not at home and I wouldnt be there to help him. I was fearful that he would injure himself during the seizure. These visions would go through my head constantly while I was away from home. But what could I do? I couldnt quit my job. God knew we needed the money to pay for the veterinary bills that were piling up. I lined up dog friends to call that would come to my house and help me in case Boz should go into Status and I couldnt pick him up and get him into our van to rush him to the vet. These are the constant fears that you live with. Not to mention the sick feeling you get every time you see your beautiful giant of a dog hit the floor with his whole body convulsing violently. Because Bozs seizures almost always happened in the early morning, he would usually be in our bedroom, which was upstairs. We live in a 120-year-old farmhouse, which has a very steep set of stairs to get down. As luck would have it, I almost always was home alone with Boz when the seizures would strike and would always have to worry about getting him down those steep stairs.

One morning in early April, I awoke to Bozs seizure. As soon as the seizure was over I managed to get him down the stairs. No sooner did I get him down and into the kitchen, another seizure started. During these seizures, the dog also empties their bowel and bladder. Again, I was home alone. This particular morning the seizure activity seemed more violent and closer together. Having learned about status, I knew that if the dog went into status, his temperature could rise to a dangerous level and he could die. The advise for this is to try and get the dog packed in ice or in as cold a place as possible. That morning Boz had seven seizures in a half hour period. I live in upstate NY and we still had some snow on the ground and it was fairly cold out. My first instinct was to get him outside into the snow. I also called a "dog friend" who lived a few houses down from me to come and help me get Boz into my van. My vets office was approximately 50 miles from my home, so I knew I had to get him into the van and get there as soon as possible. Because Bozs seizures that morning were so violent and close together, the post-ictal blindness and confusion was very severe. He couldnt see me at all, and seemed very scared and confused. I kept talking to him and stroking him, hoping that he could at least hear me or smell me and would know that I was there with him and trying to help him. My friend Dee and I managed to get him into the van so I could get him to the vet.

At the Vet, IV Valium was started to control and prevent more seizures. A Phenobarbital level was drawn, and his dose increased. The main goal at this point was to prevent him from going into Status. My vet wanted to keep him overnight for observation, but since they did not have twenty-four observation staff coverage, I pleaded with them to let me take him home and watch him myself. I felt no one could care for him like "his Mommy". (Since Bozs illness, I am happy to say my vets office now has a twenty-four hour observation staff). Because I was a nurse and they trusted me, I was allowed to take home IV Valium and administer it as needed to control his seizures.

That night Boz and I slept together on the floor, since he was too weak to go upstairs. When a seizure would start I would administer the Valium through an IV heplock taped to his leg. Within about 24 hours we were able to get the seizures under control, but Boz was so weak he needed help getting up and going to the bathroom. Again, a challenge with a 180-pound dog. Within a few days he was weaned off the Valium and stable.

I cant begin to tell you the toll this illness took on us as a family and on my beautiful boy. Again, my life was a daily ritual of being sure he had his medication and keeping a constant vigil to observe for any signs of seizure activity. Sometimes I felt like I couldnt concentrate on anything else except Boz and his illness. By the end of April things seemed to be better. Boz was beginning to act like his old self and I was starting to let my guard down a little.

During this time there were other stresses in my life. My father had been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer at the end of March. He was given 2-8 weeks to live. Because of Bozs and my close connection, Boz could always tell when I was upset. Many nights I would come home from my fathers house (we were caring for him at home) and I would sit down and cry and Boz would come and crawl in my lap with his head snuggled against me. He gave me as much love and comfort as I could ever give him.

My father passed away in early May. I had gone to my parents home to spend the last hours with my father. My husband stayed home with the kids and the dogs. I hated leaving Boz for that long. As I said earlier, I never felt like anyone could care for him the way his Momma did. But I left explicit instructions with my husband on giving him his medication and watching for seizures. (Ironically, my husband only ever witnessed one seizure from Boz, a mild one at that, due to the fact that his seizures always came in the early morning after my husband left for work). I came home once during that forty-eight hour period to take a shower and change my clothes. That particular day, I knew when I came through the door that something didnt "feel right". After a few moments I realized what it was. Boz did not meet me at the door. I called for him and he slowly came to greet me. I of course was stressed to the max. At this point my father had gone in to a coma, and we knew it was just a matter of hours before the end. Boz did not seem himself at all. He seemed lethargic and depressed. I thought maybe he was reacting to my stress. Unfortunately I did not have a lot of time to dwell on this. I took a shower and got ready to return to my parents home. I pleaded with my husband to keep an extra special eye on Boz and call me if anything should happen. My husband called me paranoid and said not to worry he would be okay. I left my house with an uneasy feeling.

My father passed away the following morning at four a.m. I returned home that day to find Boz not eating well and still acting strange. However, no seizure activity was noted. As the day wore on, Boz stopped eating and was not even drinking. This was Memorial Day weekend, and my vets office was closed for the holiday. However, they did have a twenty-four hour on call service, so I called the vet and explained my situation. I told the vet about my father passing away, and how I thought maybe Boz was just picking up on my emotions. He agreed that could be the case but I was welcome to bring him in if it would relieve my anxiety. We of course decided to make the fifty-mile trip to the vets office. The vet did a thorough exam on Boz and also ruled out bloat, (my other big fear). He sent us home with instructions to call anytime if things got worse. To make a long story short, by the end of that weekend, we had made two more trips back and forth to the vet. The last trip being at 2 a.m. in the morning, when I couldnt get Boz to even stand on his feet. The vet met us at the office. Upon exam he said he thought his spleen felt somewhat enlarged. He took an x-ray and called in another vet for a second opinion. The general consensus was that they needed to do exploratory surgery to assess what was going on with him.

Having just lost my father less then 24 hours before, I cried and pleaded with my vet not to let me lose my dog. (Nothing like putting a little added pressure on my vet). By three a.m. the vet had a surgical team ready and Bozs surgery began. The vet came out an hour later and told me that Bozs spleen was extremely enlarged and that his blood cell count was very low. He had to remove his spleen. During surgery, even his capillary vessels were hemorrhaging each time he even tried to suture him. Boz had lost a lot of blood, and his platelets (blood clotting mechanism) were also extremely low. The vet asked me to call some of my "Mastiff friends" to see if they could bring one of their dogs in so we could give Boz a blood transfusion. One of my dearest friends, Terri, owned a half brother to Boz. We called her at four a.m., (she also lived an hour away). She immediately put her boy Jake in the car and brought him to the vet. Jake donated two pints of blood to Boz, and now all we could do was wait and hope for the best. Boz stayed at the vet for about one week after surgery. During this time, more tests were done, and it seemed that Boz had some sort of autoimmune illness. The origin of the autoimmune illness was still unknown. Boz was started on steroid therapy to counter act the autoimmune process.

Through out Bozs illness, I gained support from my many friends who knew and loved Boz and also from many people whom I met over the Internet, who too had dogs suffering from Epilepsy. It amazed me to learn how many Epileptic dogs there were out there. I was also shocked to learn how many were Mastiffs.

From early May till the end of June we saw a steady decline in our beautiful boy. The steroid therapy took a huge toll on his mind and body. During some of my research, I had read an article about how Phenobarbital can cause a secondary autoimmune process due to the toxicity to the liver. I immediately told my vet that I wanted Boz off the Phenobarbital. My vet practice also does some holistic medicine. One of the vets specialized in acupuncture. We began acupuncture treatments on Boz and even had Gold Bead implants done. Ironically, through out the whole autoimmune illness Boz never had one seizure. I was thankful for that. Along with the Phenobarbital, we asked that they start weaning Boz from the steroid therapy. Again, as I said, the medication was taking its toll. The steroids caused such muscle weakness, that Boz could barely stand up to urinate or have a bowel movement. Remember, as I stated earlier, all the medications are based on weight. In a Mastiff, this calls for larger doses. My husband and I struggled every day to make a decision on what to do. We did not want to see our boy live his life like this. This was not the Boz we knew and loved. Through out all of this turmoil however, Boz never showed a sign of agitation. He let us do everything we had to do with him. The vets were amazed at how well he behaved, even during the acupuncture sessions. He would even wag his tail at the vets, somehow knowing that we all were working towards making him well. The poor boy had more needles in one month than most dogs have in a lifetime. During this time, the vets continued to give us hope that he could get better. I held onto that hope for dear life.

On the early morning of July 2nd 1997, Bozs fight for life ended. We had begun the weaning of the steroids about a week earlier. I noticed that morning that Boz looked weaker then usual. I decided I was going to take him down to Cornell University to see if they could do anything more for us. I called my neighbor down the road, the same one who had assisted me before when Boz had his multiple seizures. That is when I think I got a wake up call. When my friend saw him she couldnt believe how bad he looked. I knew by the look on her face that things were really bad. My mind up until that point just did not want to see what was really in front of me. We got him into my van, and I called the vet on my way. It was just Boz and I in the van. He was in his mesh crate, so it was hard for me to be able to see him. I stopped once to get gas and to check on him. He was standing in his crate wagging his tail. I told him to hang on just a bit longer, that we would be at the vets soon. I continued to talk to him while I was driving. Suddenly the car took on an eerie silence. I was getting ready to go through the Thruway tollbooth, when something told me to pull over and check on him again. When I opened his crate my beautiful boy was gone. My first thought was to try and resuscitate him. But then again, reality set in. This was for the best. The last gift Boz gave me, knowing me as he did, was to "let go" on his own. It was as if he knew his Mom didnt have the heart to do it for him. Looking back, I wonder now, if I would do things differently. If I have only one regret, due to my inability to let go, Bozs suffering went on for too long.

I hope you can forgive the long windedness of this story. But I felt it was the only way I could tell it. Epilepsy is a devastating illness. It needs to be taken seriously in our breed. There are many times I remember saying, and God knows I dont ever wish to deal with this in any of my dogs, but I would say, I could handle cancer, I could handle blindness, or many other disorders. But Epilepsy is so unpredictable and heart wrenching to observe. And, it has other effects on the dog besides just the actual seizures. I hope we as a group can put as much time and energy into finding a cure for this disease as we do on other genetic disorders.

For more information on Epilepsy in Mastiffs, please visit the website dedicated to helping to find a cure at: http://mastiff.org/exhibit-hall/health/epi.mv Also, if you presently have or ever had a Mastiff with Epilepsy, our committee is seeking blood samples and pedigrees to study. All information sent to both of the studies at the website above is totally confidential and both studies are free.