MUSIC PREVIEW: A benefit for George in Hermosa Beach
“Apollo” just didn’t sound right.
Three years ago, I saw his photo on thePet Finder website. He was bloated, a little yellow and he had the saddest eyes I’d ever seen on any living being. When I called the shelter in Modesto, I heard Apollo’s story:
Apollo the dog came into the shelter, abused and scared, when he was just a couple of months old. Months into his new life at the shelter, he still wouldn’t warm up to any of the other animals or handlers and wasn’t considered ready for adoption.
George on his way home from the shelter, 3 years ago.
Then he met Helen, a blind and deaf cocker spaniel. The pair became inseparable, with Apollo leading his friend around for protection and comfort. The two dogs perked up so much around each other that the shelter was afraid to have anyone adopt them separately. When Helen died in the shelter, Apollo retreated again. By the time I saw his photo online, he had been at the ASPCA for over a year.
Without the express consent of my boyfriend, now husband, I decided Apollo needed me. The day after I called, Matt and I woke up at 4:30 a.m. to drive the five hours to Modesto. On the way there, we decided on a new name for our boy. Matt was still a bit hesitant – he had never had a dog – but when he came up with the name George, I knew he was stuck.
George’s transformation took some time. It took us three weeks to see George wag his tail. He peed on the floor, hid behind tables to avoid Matt and shook when anyone besides the two of us came into the house. When I was out, Matt would play his guitar to try to help George relax. He made up a simple little strumming melody that actually got the dog to come to him. We still call it “George’s Song.”
Slowly, George came out of his shell. His body became more toned, his color got brighter and his human-like eyes took on a glimmer. And he became very silly and a big flirt. Most who love dogs will understand that the best dogs have damn fine senses of humor.
George on our cross-country RV honeymoon last summer.
Since that first day three years ago, Matt, George and I have been a team. We’ve moved together, traveled together. George even came with us last summer on our honeymoon RV trip across the country. And we’ve had some ups and downs: Two years ago, George ran away from a pet sitter while Matt and I were in Maine. He was missing for 14 hours until a wonderful group of Redondo Beach lifeguards spotted him on the break water. All the way out. He had just kept running. The lifeguards had to take a boat out to get George. They said he looked like he was having fun.
Three weeks ago, George was diagnosed with Immune-Mediated Hemolytic Anemia (IMHA), a condition where the immune system destroys its own red blood cells. He went to bed his normal self on a Thursday night and woke up Friday barely able to move. IMHA is rare, sudden and, quite often, fatal.
A normal, healthy dog has a red blood cell count somewhere between 40 and 50. When George was admitted to Advanced Veterinary Care hospital, he was at a nine. The doctors were surprised he could even stand. The prognosis was grim.
George was given four blood transfusions over the course of the next four days. Matt and I were in the hospital as much as they’d allow us to be. We sang George songs, tussled his hair and rubbed his bloated belly. We could tell he was still in there. I started a Go Fund Me campaign for George three days into the hospitalization. Our bill was already $4000 and climbing. Within the next three days, friends, family and complete strangers had donated almost $2000.
After the sixth day, George came home with us. His level had climbed to 33. IMHA is a tricky illness. Most research says that your dog is not out of the woods for 12 to 24 weeks after symptoms first present. His level has dropped slightly since then, but we are staying positive that he is still on the long road to recovery.
So far, we are very lucky. George is eating again, barking again and even tolerates the obscene amount of pills we feed him twice daily. We are on a regular schedule of twice-weekly hospital appointments. He doesn’t mind going back to AVC, and everyone greets hims with pats and cookies.
I had forgotten, until recently, that Matt and I changed George’s name. Then I looked up the name Apollo and was reminded that he was the Greek god of healing, protection, music and song. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad name, after all.
Matt and Alyssa host “A Benefit for George” on Thursday, October 23 from 8 p.m. to close at Suzy’s Bar and Grill, 1141 Aviation Blvd in Hermosa Beach. Live music provided by Matt, Alyssa and friends. No cover. Any tips for musicians will go to George’s continued hospital expenses. For more information, contact the writer.