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Chapter 1 – Zeke (aka Ezekiel Lord Protectorate)
Zeke was just a pup when we got him from a breeder near our home in Kentucky. I so wanted a basenji and was thrilled to find a breeder so close by. Unfortunately, I was also naïve and ill-educated about the breed. I believe the breeder meant well, but was not very conscientious. I think they bred too close together with the bitches and dogs they had.
It’s not all that uncommon with rare breeds to have the problems of a limited gene pool. Basenjis have been in the United States since the 1940’s, but they are an ancient breed. In the late 80’s there was a massive undertaking to bring fresh basenji stock from Africa into the United States to help fortify the limited gene pool.
So…what does all that have to do with Zeke? Well, as I said, I was not prepared or really educated about the breed. Zeke was not properly socialized and ended up being a pretty mean guy. I think some of the issues were breeding and a lack of attention to temperament, but in the end most of the issues were our fault.
We had Zeke for about 2 years before I left home to go to college. His life changed for the worse then. Because he was a bored basenji, he was destructive. He had no manners and most of the family was afraid of him. He spent much of my college years chained to a wall or a tree. I am ashamed of that.
When I graduated college, I was on a mission to find a place to live where I could bring Zeke to live with me. Unfortunately it was 2 more years before I could do that. About a month after I moved into my new apartment, my stepfather brought Zeke to me. He was unrecognizable. It was so obvious that he was neglected. Zeke was probably about 20-25 pounds overweight. It was so sad. But all that was going to change now! Zeke was back with me!
Zeke and I took several walks a day, mostly for his bathroom breaks but also because he needed it. We often met dogs off leash and Zeke would inevitably go into attack mode. Most folks learned that he was not friendly and kept their distance. This troubled me, but I only did what I could to make sure he didn’t injure anyone.
About a year after Zeke and I were back together, I bought a house. With a yard. This was all for Zeke. I wanted him to have his own yard to play in without a leash or chain. It wasn’t very big but by this time he was older and we still went on daily walks. He had lost most of the weight and looked much better. He certainly didn’t look his age (which by this time was over 7 years at least), but I have found that basenji’s age very well.
For seven more years we lived together, just me and Zeke. He was my rock, my raison d’être, he needed me and I needed him.
It was a Sunday morning in December when I knew something was wrong. Zeke was having a grand mal seizure. It was probably the most awful thing I’ve ever had to watch. I simply sat there while he struggled and made sure he didn’t fall or hurt himself. When it was over I just petted him and talked to him to try to calm him down. He had wet the bed so I moved him off that spot but just let him relax. When he wanted to get up, I let him and helped him to make sure he didn’t’ fall. He was still a bit wobbly.
I called the emergency vet and talked to them. They said that since this was the first and only seizure and as long as he seemed okay (a little disorientation was expected) to just watch him and take him to our regular vet in the morning. He did okay for the rest of the day. The next morning there was another seizure. And off to the vet we went.
There were no obvious reasons for the seizures (i.e. blood work, vitals, etc were normal for a 14 year old dog) so at the time our only solution was to give him phenobarbital.
I stayed home as long as I could but I also needed to be at work. Zeke went to stay at the vet’s after a day on the medicine. He would still have these brief little episodes that seemed like a type of mini-seizure. It’s like the meds were helping, but not stopping the issue. On the day I took him to the vets, I told him I had already given him the medication and that all they needed to do was keep an eye on him. When I called around lunchtime, I asked how he was doing and they said he was fine, sleeping, they had seen nothing unusual. “We gave him his medicine about 10am and he’s been fine”.
WHAT?!?!?!?! I was livid. He’d already had his med and they gave him another dose? Well, of course he was sleeping; the dog was OD’d on Phenobarbital! I was pissed, left the office and brought him home. The vet apologized but I couldn’t trust them again.
On Thursday night Zeke had another seizure that was pretty bad. A friend came over and called a vet he knew, we took Zeke to this new vet (at 11 pm) and they kept him overnight.
On Saturday, December 14, 2002, I made the decision to let Zeke go. We never really knew what happened. One vet thought it might have been a brain tumor and suggested we could go to Virginia Tech Vet School to have an MRI done. I thought that was too extreme because even if we found a brain tumor it was likely to be inoperable, and if it was operable, is this something you put a 14 year old dog through?
Zeke had changed. Whatever had caused the seizures had changed his temperament. He wasn’t Zeke anymore and he seemed to not know who he was. I couldn’t watch his confusion…I couldn’t do that to my dog who was so confident.
Coincidentally – I had met a man online and we started talking the day Zeke first got sick. He had already been so supportive through some of the episodes with Zeke and because I didn’t know what was going to happen, we had made arrangements to meet on Saturday December 14. After deciding to let Zeke go, there was no way to let this guy know that I couldn’t meet him; he’d already be on his way, so I did meet him. We spent a few hours together and he was so understanding and supportive. He didn’t judge just cried with me. Later I would understand how and why this man was so understanding…he became my husband on September 20, 2005.
Zeke was just a pup when we got him from a breeder near our home in Kentucky. I so wanted a basenji and was thrilled to find a breeder so close by. Unfortunately, I was also naïve and ill-educated about the breed. I believe the breeder meant well, but was not very conscientious. I think they bred too close together with the bitches and dogs they had.
It’s not all that uncommon with rare breeds to have the problems of a limited gene pool. Basenjis have been in the United States since the 1940’s, but they are an ancient breed. In the late 80’s there was a massive undertaking to bring fresh basenji stock from Africa into the United States to help fortify the limited gene pool.
So…what does all that have to do with Zeke? Well, as I said, I was not prepared or really educated about the breed. Zeke was not properly socialized and ended up being a pretty mean guy. I think some of the issues were breeding and a lack of attention to temperament, but in the end most of the issues were our fault.
We had Zeke for about 2 years before I left home to go to college. His life changed for the worse then. Because he was a bored basenji, he was destructive. He had no manners and most of the family was afraid of him. He spent much of my college years chained to a wall or a tree. I am ashamed of that.
When I graduated college, I was on a mission to find a place to live where I could bring Zeke to live with me. Unfortunately it was 2 more years before I could do that. About a month after I moved into my new apartment, my stepfather brought Zeke to me. He was unrecognizable. It was so obvious that he was neglected. Zeke was probably about 20-25 pounds overweight. It was so sad. But all that was going to change now! Zeke was back with me!
Zeke and I took several walks a day, mostly for his bathroom breaks but also because he needed it. We often met dogs off leash and Zeke would inevitably go into attack mode. Most folks learned that he was not friendly and kept their distance. This troubled me, but I only did what I could to make sure he didn’t injure anyone.
About a year after Zeke and I were back together, I bought a house. With a yard. This was all for Zeke. I wanted him to have his own yard to play in without a leash or chain. It wasn’t very big but by this time he was older and we still went on daily walks. He had lost most of the weight and looked much better. He certainly didn’t look his age (which by this time was over 7 years at least), but I have found that basenji’s age very well.
For seven more years we lived together, just me and Zeke. He was my rock, my raison d’être, he needed me and I needed him.
It was a Sunday morning in December when I knew something was wrong. Zeke was having a grand mal seizure. It was probably the most awful thing I’ve ever had to watch. I simply sat there while he struggled and made sure he didn’t fall or hurt himself. When it was over I just petted him and talked to him to try to calm him down. He had wet the bed so I moved him off that spot but just let him relax. When he wanted to get up, I let him and helped him to make sure he didn’t’ fall. He was still a bit wobbly.
I called the emergency vet and talked to them. They said that since this was the first and only seizure and as long as he seemed okay (a little disorientation was expected) to just watch him and take him to our regular vet in the morning. He did okay for the rest of the day. The next morning there was another seizure. And off to the vet we went.
There were no obvious reasons for the seizures (i.e. blood work, vitals, etc were normal for a 14 year old dog) so at the time our only solution was to give him phenobarbital.
I stayed home as long as I could but I also needed to be at work. Zeke went to stay at the vet’s after a day on the medicine. He would still have these brief little episodes that seemed like a type of mini-seizure. It’s like the meds were helping, but not stopping the issue. On the day I took him to the vets, I told him I had already given him the medication and that all they needed to do was keep an eye on him. When I called around lunchtime, I asked how he was doing and they said he was fine, sleeping, they had seen nothing unusual. “We gave him his medicine about 10am and he’s been fine”.
WHAT?!?!?!?! I was livid. He’d already had his med and they gave him another dose? Well, of course he was sleeping; the dog was OD’d on Phenobarbital! I was pissed, left the office and brought him home. The vet apologized but I couldn’t trust them again.
On Thursday night Zeke had another seizure that was pretty bad. A friend came over and called a vet he knew, we took Zeke to this new vet (at 11 pm) and they kept him overnight.
On Saturday, December 14, 2002, I made the decision to let Zeke go. We never really knew what happened. One vet thought it might have been a brain tumor and suggested we could go to Virginia Tech Vet School to have an MRI done. I thought that was too extreme because even if we found a brain tumor it was likely to be inoperable, and if it was operable, is this something you put a 14 year old dog through?
Zeke had changed. Whatever had caused the seizures had changed his temperament. He wasn’t Zeke anymore and he seemed to not know who he was. I couldn’t watch his confusion…I couldn’t do that to my dog who was so confident.
Coincidentally – I had met a man online and we started talking the day Zeke first got sick. He had already been so supportive through some of the episodes with Zeke and because I didn’t know what was going to happen, we had made arrangements to meet on Saturday December 14. After deciding to let Zeke go, there was no way to let this guy know that I couldn’t meet him; he’d already be on his way, so I did meet him. We spent a few hours together and he was so understanding and supportive. He didn’t judge just cried with me. Later I would understand how and why this man was so understanding…he became my husband on September 20, 2005.
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