He was born in a puppy mill in Missouri. It gets worse from there.
Hi, it's Imani, also known on the internet as AngryBlackLady. This is the story of how I adopted a puppy mill survivor and ended up with a $3,000 emergency vet bill, a giardia infestation, and a renewed interest in arson.
On May 22, my partner Portia and I adopted a cocker spaniel puppy mill survivor formerly known as Keller through a rescue. We took one look at him—scrappy, suspicious, clearly plotting something, built like a little ottoman with legs—and decided that for social media purposes, he would be known as Spanny DeVito. It was the only correct choice.
Six days later, I was rushing him to the emergency vet.
Spanny was hospitalized with Acute Hemorrhagic Diarrhea Syndrome (AHDS)—a sudden, life-threatening condition that causes severe dehydration and requires immediate IV fluid intervention. The emergency vet's first concern when he came in was parvo. It was not parvo. Phew! When his PCR panel came back, he tested positive for giardia. His signed medical records note that he was "likely to have been infected prior to adoption or during transport."
Giardia. If you don't know what it is, don't google it. It will traumatize you for life. If you're familiar with giardia, you'll understand why I thought my only recourse was to burn my house down and salt the earth. Portia said I was overreacting. She was probably right. Probably.
To make matters worse, we have three other dogs at home. Which means we now get to worry about whether giardia has made its way through the entire household. Monitoring and potential treatment for three additional dogs was not part of the plan.
He spent two nights at the Emergency Pet Clinic of Longmont on IV fluids. He is home now. He is recovering. He is also currently confined to a pen and crate while we wait for a clean fecal test, which means he spends a lot of time looking at us with an expression that says he knows exactly what we did and he has not forgiven us.
Classic Spanny DeVito behavior.
We bring Spanny home. He is suspicious of everything. We are delighted.
Acute symptoms begin. Nobody sleeps.
Portia leaves to visit her mom. Spanny continues pooping water. Emergency vet. Hospitalized for dehydration and observation. First concern: parvo. Ruled out. The rescue is responsive and concerned. The bill is not yet $3,000.
Acute Hemorrhagic Diarrhea Syndrome (AHDS) diagnosis. IV fluids. Nobody is having a good time.
Spanny comes home. PCR panel pending. Bill is nearly $3,000. I wince and put it on a credit card. I reach out to the rescue and ask them to cover half the bill. The rescue becomes noticeably less responsive and less concerned.
Portia comes home to find me exhausted and at my wit's end.
PCR results come back: giardia. The treating vet notes the infection was likely contracted prior to adoption or during transport. I begin furiously deep cleaning the house. Every surface. Every dog bed. Every crate. I threaten to burn the house down approximately seventeen times. Portia remains calm. I do not understand this.
Conference call scheduled with rescue leadership to discuss the bill. They reschedule. Then go silent.
The rescue declines to help. They also decline to return our $450 adoption fee, which seems rude. Still waiting on a clean fecal test. Spanny remains unimpressed by all of it.
In his first week home, I incurred nearly $3,000 in emergency veterinary expenses.
I lost my cocker spaniel Spaniel Day Lewis earlier this year after a ten-week bout with cancer. I was his primary caregiver throughout. The bills from his care left me in a difficult financial position. Adopting Spanny was supposed to be a fresh start. I was not prepared for another medical emergency.
We adopted Spanny and we expected to take responsibility for his long-term care. What we did not expect was a medical emergency requiring hospitalization within days of bringing him home—for an infection the emergency vet said he likely had before he left the rescue's care.
