Worshipping at the Altar of Rimadyl

My eldest dog, Murphy, a female Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, is 13. We never expected her to make it to 3, but she’s vibrant and healthy.

 It took a lot to get her that way. Some of her problems were inherited, some medical mistakes, some the normal up’s and down’s of life.

Murphy’s health took choice. Rimadyl is one of those choices.

I had to learn a lot about veterinary care to take care of Murphy. And a lot about human medical care to take care of myself. Our journey together has been enlightening: it was a journey to shared wellness, to a new way of living with animals and of creating community with all life.

In my multi-species family I’m the only human. I live with two Cavaliers, Murphy and her almost 10-year-old brother, Alki, and their 8-year-old sister, Grace the Cat.

They’re my family. I’m not their guardian. Or caretaker. Or mother. They are my kids in that I’ve made myself the boss of the family (so I drive the car and buy and prepare meals and make the final choice on family issues). They are my family. We are living the human-animal bond.

My family has a say in their care, including medical care. Coming to an understanding of what they wanted, of how to explain things to them, of how to accept their choices, of how those choices play out in family dynamics—all of that took patience, thought, education, intuition, and my commitment to participating in a world where creating equal community with all life means all beings have choice, responsibility, and free will.

It included really living what I mean when I say that members of a multi-species family are equals.

Murphy has been through a lot. When degenerative arthritis reared up two years ago, I thought we might be at the end of our journey together. We had a deal: no more of anything that would prolong a life that involved chronic pain and disability.

I’ve been living that personal issue for over 20 years. Murphy’s lived it for 13 now. There’s a time to say enough.

And a time to find the right answers. For that family member. For that time.

When Murphy suddenly contorted in excruciating pain on a Sunday in summer 2009, I pulled out every medical remedy I had. We’ve used a lot over the years: from prescription drugs to Ayurvedic herbs, Chinese herbs, massage, chiropractic, supplements, acupuncture, energy work, acutonics, and animal communication. That Sunday I had leftovers of several things. I made myself calm down, closed my eyes, asked for the right remedy to show up, and picked up a bottle.

It was Rimadyl. I immediately started her on it.

Over the next few days, after extensive criminally bad emergency veterinary care, we ended up right where we were on Sunday: using Rimadyl.

Since then, we’ve added several things to the mix. And we’re still using Rimadyl.

Rimadyl works for Murphy. The other remedies we tried did not. The ‘natural, holistic’ remedies are great, including milk thistle, which Murphy takes to support her liver. But for her, in this time and place, Rimadyl works. I swear by it. I, frankly, worship at the altar of Rimadyl.

Here’s the interesting thing. So many people, interested in Murphy’s care and in our family, have generously offered their opinion on what we should be doing instead. Granted, many of us do not look at alternatives, so we immediately go for the easy fixes, like antibiotics and prescription drugs. But these people have acted as if I am doing something terrible by using a prescription drug.

Yes, Rimadyl can have side effects. Murphy has not had any. She did have side effects from the other things we tried, and some of them plain did not work. The truth? Everything has side effects, even the ‘alternatives.’ What matters is the side effects for that particular animal. What matters is: what are the consequences, and what is the choice?

There are people in the alternative community, from holistic vets to energy workers, who apologize when they use a prescription drug, as if the only choice is something else. They are as short-sighted as the vets who only use prescription drugs. Why can’t these people all get together and support healthy, responsible choice? Eastern and Western medicine can combine to create healthy families. I know. My family is proof.

Ditch your prejudices and use what works. It’s a trial and error process, no question. It requires educated vets, and there really aren’t a lot of them out there these days. It requires educated families, and there aren’t a lot of them, either. It requires weighing the risks and benefits. It requires informed choice.

The politics of care and the realities of care are different. Be proactive. Do the research. Find a good vet. Ask your animal members what they want. Honor their request. Use what works. Monitor it.

Frankly, I appreciate the people who suggest alternatives to Rimadyl. I do not appreciate their insistence that I am doing something wrong by not using something they think is safer or better. I do not appreciate their contempt for my choice, and for Murphy’s.

What did Murphy want? Whatever made her feel good. She deserves no less. Our family deserves no less.

And that’s what she gets. Rimadyl. Every day I am grateful that Rimadyl is out there. That when I asked for help it was there that Sunday, stepping forward to add itself to the mix that creates a healthy family. If Rimadyl, or any remedy, makes Murphy comfortable, we’re happy. If somehow her life is shorter because we chose that drug, then so be it. We have consciously chosen quality over quantity. We chose what works.

The truth is, any remedy can shorten a life, but not every remedy can improve it. And what works for one family member may not work for another. That’s where vigilance and common sense enter the mix.

Every day I live with a dog whose vibrancy at 13 astounds people. Rimadyl helped make that. I am grateful. It is our choice.

Don’t make choices, for or against any treatment, based on prejudice. Choose what works.

We have. Two years on, we’re still worshipping at the altar of Rimadyl. Respecting choice. Living healthy balanced lives.

What is your choice? What does your animal family choose? Have you asked?