The moment we knew Vito was going to leave us | Episode 2

When a dog is ill, you often don't realise it straight away. Especially when the symptoms are unspecific and sometimes come and sometimes go, as was the case with our Vito. In this episode of our podcast, we explain how we only realised late on that Vito's recurring abdominal pain and sensitivity were not just coincidence or harmless reactions - but the first signs of a serious, chronic bowel disease.

We would like to share our experiences because many dog owners experience similar uncertainties: When is it still "normal" for a dog to be less fit - and when should you take a closer look? Looking back, we can see many things more clearly, but at the time it was an emotionally gruelling, lengthy journey that repeatedly pushed us to our limits.

This blog not only gives you an insight into our personal story, but also valuable canine background information: How do you recognise chronic intestinal diseases in dogs? What happens in the body when the gut is ill? And what does this mean for the coexistence between humans and dogs?

When a dog is ill, many owners only notice the signs late. Particularly in the case of chronic illnesses that develop gradually, many things seem harmless at first: sometimes a little stomach ache, sometimes restlessness, then weeks or months in which everything seems normal. This was also the case with our Vito. Even as a puppy, he was more sensitive than other dogs: minor injuries, recurring stomach problems, mild stress reactions.

Back then, we often thought: "That's just what happens." It wasn't that he was constantly ill. Rather, we were dealing with a dog who had minor health issues from time to time. Today we know that we were already looking at the first warning signs of chronic intestinal disease - but at that time we didn't have the knowledge to recognise the connections.

Living with a sensitive dog requires a great deal of sensitivity. But where do you draw the line between normal sensitivity and a genuine clinical picture? This question has been with us for years - and that's exactly why we want to talk about it today.

Looking back, we realise that Vito has always been a sensitive dog. Not just in terms of behaviour, but also physically. Even as a puppy, he showed signs that we didn't categorise as alarm signals at the time: minor injuries, recurring stomach problems, phases of restlessness after Eat. Sometimes there were days when he had stomach pains, then weeks without any complaints.

His behaviour after eating was particularly striking: Vito often pulled his lips together, almost like an implied smile. This may have looked cute to outsiders, but to us it was a sure sign of discomfort at some point. He also had a hard belly, which he literally "stretched out" as if to say: "Please massage me here." These rituals after feeding soon became routine for us, without us understanding the big picture.

It was only later that we realised that his "dances of joy" after the shop - small, exuberant jumps - were possibly an expression of relief. Not just pure joie de vivre, but a reaction to the fact that something that had been weighing him down had just been relieved.

That was the beginning of a long journey, during which we had to learn to read Vito's body language differently.

For years, we looked for answers - from vets, in the community, using alternative methods. In the beginning, we were often told: "It's nothing serious." The intervals between periods of abdominal pain were too long for anyone to think of a chronic illness.

We tried different sources of protein: Chicken, then duck - in the hope of finding something more tolerable. But as it turned out later, duck was a problem for Vito. A bioresonance analysis provided clues that vets did not take seriously at first: Intolerances, immune system stress, intestinal problems. Nevertheless, this direction helped us to think more specifically and recognise connections.

The feeling of often being left alone was particularly challenging. "Everything is okay", we heard regularly - and yet Vito clearly showed us that he was not well. It was only through a combination of veterinary medicine, alternative approaches and intensive observation that we slowly made progress.

Most importantly, we learnt not just to rely on a system, but to actively think along with it - and to take our role as Vito's most important advocates seriously.

The moment when everything tipped over came unexpectedly - and violently. During our wedding preparations in Italy, Vito was given the tick repellent Advantix. A preparation that he had not received before. And the consequences were dramatic: He lost his balance, fell off the bed, staggered and toppled over while shaking.

At first we thought the causes were harmless: Water in the ear from playing on the beach. But when the tilting of the head persisted, it became clear that there was something more serious behind it. We travelled to a neurological clinic and underwent expensive examinations - all without a clear result. No tumour, no Wobbler syndrome, no clear diagnosis.

We began to suspect that there was a connection between the spot-on preparation and the neurological deficits, even if the vets were sceptical. We found information in the community that helped us: Tips on detoxification, alternative approaches, things you could do yourself.

That was the turning point. We realised that our dog didn't "just have a tummy ache". His body was fighting on several fronts - and we had to learn to think and steer with him.

After the initial neurological problems, another topic slowly came to the fore: Vito's intestinal health.

At first it was sporadic diarrhoea, then came bloody, slimy faeces. We noticed that he couldn't tolerate certain protein sources - chicken was critical, duck caused discomfort. The vets advised an intestinal biopsy to make a clear diagnosis.

The result was devastating, but also relieving because we finally knew what we were dealing with: Histiocytic ulcerative colitis, an inflammatory bowel disease that is considered a subtype of IBD (Inflammatory Bowel Disease). Genetically predisposed breeds such as Boxers and French Bulldogs, of which Vito was one, are particularly affected. At the same time, a biopsy of the palate showed signs of lupus, an autoimmune disease.

We started with an adapted diet, switched to a highly digestible, protein-reduced diet, tested monoprotein feed and started cortisone therapy. We also carried out a bioresonance analysis - on the recommendation of a veterinary practitioner - which revealed other intolerances (including duck).

We were required to observe, document and adapt on a daily basis. Every small change in food became a risk - but also a hope. It was a particularly emotional experience that we often found helpful approaches more quickly through the community than through veterinary advice.

In addition to the bowel disease, we received a second diagnosis that explained a lot - and at the same time made everything more complicated: lupus erythematosus, an autoimmune disease.

In lupus, the immune system attacks the body's own structures as if they were foreign. This can affect the skin, joints, blood vessels, organs and mucous membranes. In Vito's case, it first appeared on the palate, where white, fungal-like changes formed. Later, general inflammation, fatigue and immunodeficiency were added.

The treatment was challenging because we had to fight two fronts at the same time:

• The intestinal inflammation required a strengthening of the immune system and rebuilding of the intestinal flora.

• Lupus, on the other hand, made immunosuppression with cortisone necessary in order to dampen excessive reactions.

We were faced with a balancing act: how much suppression does the immune system need without rendering the gut completely defenceless? How much build-up can the gut tolerate without triggering lupus?

Dogs with genetic sensitivity in particular - such as those with an MDR1 mutation or special coat colours like "blue" or "lilac" - are highly sensitive in such situations. Their genetic dispositions act as an amplifier for any treatment, which challenged us again and again in many ways with Vito.

When we started the cortisone therapy, we initially felt relief: the inflammatory processes finally seemed to be under control. The diarrhoea subsided, the palate changes receded and Vito became more stable. But cortisone is a double-edged sword.

The typical side effects, which can be particularly stressful for dogs, soon appeared:

• Severe hunger and thirst

• Frequent urination (also at night)

• Muscle atrophy and weakness

• Restlessness

• Weight gain with simultaneous muscle loss

Vito's muscle loss was particularly problematic, which was exacerbated by his castration: Without testosterone, he lacked an important hormonal basis for maintaining muscle mass. His increased appetite also presented us with challenges: He began to eat everything on walks - from leftover food to fox faeces.

We had to learn to see cortisone management as a fine-tuning process: too much meant anti-inflammation, but also side effects. Too little led to relapses of intestinal inflammation and lupus symptoms.

We worked closely with our vet, a nutritionist and alternative practitioners. Step by step, we adjusted the dosage, introduced a selected diet and supplemented it with gentle supportive measures such as detoxification cures and herbal preparations.

Vito's everyday life became a balancing act - for him and for us. But despite all his efforts, we noticed how his body was losing more and more of its reserves as the months went by.

In addition to all the medical challenges, it was above all the emotional strain that pushed us to our limits as owners. Vito was not "just" a dog. He was part of our family, a companion who shaped our everyday life, our routines and our home.

Watching him fight - sometimes strong, sometimes weak - was a constant up and down of emotions:

• Hope if a new therapeutic approach worked.

• Anxiety when new symptoms appeared.

• Exhaustion, due to sleepless nights, constant observation and care.

• Feelings of guilt because you ask yourself: "Could we have realised something earlier? Did we always make the right decisions?"

The uncertainty was particularly difficult: we never knew what to expect the next day. We experienced phases in which Vito happily jumped around the garden, followed by days when he wouldn't move from his spot.

We realised how important it was to take care of ourselves too: small breaks, conversations, accepting help from the community so as not to burn out completely.

But the most emotionally difficult thing was the thought that we would have to make a decision at some point: Would Vito stay with us - or would we release him?
A thought that emerged the more we saw his body struggling and suffering.

By the end of the year, we were exhausted - physically, mentally and emotionally. But we were also hopeful.

The blood results were stable, the diet adjusted, the cortisone reduced. We had the feeling that we had made it. Vito was not a healthy dog, we knew that, but he was a happy dog. We made plans: little outings, cosy walks, cuddly evenings.

But as is so often the case with chronic illnesses, things turned out differently.

Vito's condition suddenly deteriorated in the first few weeks of the new year. It happened quickly - faster than we had expected. And with each deterioration, the one issue that we had previously suppressed grew:
When is it time to say goodbye? 

In episode 3 of our podcast, we will talk about exactly that:

• How we realised it was time.

• What thoughts, fears and doubts we had.

• And why this decision was ultimately an act of love.

This episode was particularly important to us because we wanted to take you into the part of the story that you often don't see from the outside:

• The small signs that have been there for years.

• The emotional highs and lows.

• The challenges that not only demand the dog, but also the people.

We hope that we have not only been able to give you an insight, but also a bit of a connection. Perhaps you have experienced something similar. Maybe you're at a similar point right now.
And maybe this podcast will help you feel a little less alone.