Last night started out like any other—until it didn’t.

We came home to blood. A lot of it. In various places.

Honestly, with the way our hounds like to hunt, we thought maybe they had dragged something in, but we couldn’t find a thing. Later, we realized it was Cash—bleeding from his nose, only on one side. Other than that, he seemed perfectly fine, still wagging that tail like nothing was wrong. The bleeding stopped quickly, but my heart didn’t stop worrying.

This morning, Greg dropped him off at the veterinarian’s office, where they’re running a full battery of tests. We love Dr. Moore at Animal Medical Center, and I know he’s in the best hands possible.

Cash isn’t just a dog—he’s my furry best friend. We adopted him when he was just a year old from the Etowah Valley Humane Society, and we were blessed to get his full history. Back then, I was still in the veterinary field—a blessing in disguise, because within months of bringing him home, he got sick.

His red blood cell count dropped to 4. Yes… four.

What followed was months of tests, rounds of steroids and other medications, and research help from UGA, Merck Pharmaceuticals, and Idexx Labs. No one could ever pinpoint an exact diagnosis beyond the fact that he was immune-compromised.

The week before all of that, he had undergone surgery to remove his spleen because it had twisted. (Spleens, as it turns out, are generally overrated anyway.) Through it all, Cash was a trooper—never once anything less than his happy, hound-dog self.

That’s why, today, this feels like déjà vu. We’ve walked the scary path before, and thanks to prayer, love, and one determined dog, we came out the other side.

So, I’m asking again—for love, prayers, and good vibes for Cash. Because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that the power of prayer, paired with the wag of a determined tail, can work miracles. And Greg and I just can’t accept anything less than our boy being back to 100% soon. 💕 —Jani

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