The Maxwell Chronicles (Continued…)

Have you ever heard the age old “tale” that having children one does not get an instruction manual but do you know what else they do not give you a manual to?


Or more specifically — handiPUGS.

It is even more difficult when you have a handipug who has a medical diagnosis that is not commonly seen (all of you handipet parents with those rare babies know exactly what I am lamenting about!) so you run into the problem of worry that is almost like an onion and you can peel away the layers but its just a different avenue of worry.

“Could this minor issue/problem be somehow related to their diagnosis?”

Can they handle or tolerate minor wellness things such as vaccines or dental cleanings?”

Am I doing everything that I can possibly be doing for their comfort, happiness & well-being?”

I am the very first to admit that I am stumbling in the dark when it pertains to Maxwell and his diagnosis (multiple limb deformity & kyphosis) but I am always willing to learn and continue to learn about dudes like Maxwell but in the meantime I am sort of learning by the absolute seat of my pants.

Is that scary? Absolutely.

But what can you do? You just have to keep “pressing on” because what else is there possibly to do? So you roll with the good and you roll with the bad just like life.

For every heart warming video I post of Maxwell cruising in his wheelchair there is probably a memory to match that of him and I up all night long while I hose down his bed that he managed to smear poop all around in (we suspect a nerve was pinched in his spine which was causing his legs to kick madly) or panic texting the patient vet’s that I work with because Maxwell is behaving in pain and I am constantly worried that he will BLOAT (again, insert face palm here!) and that I probably sprouted another few dozen gray hairs worrying if I am doing all of the right things for Maxwell all while not breaking the bank, being a pest to my co-workers or straining my marriage — sometimes handipets are dirty work and sure sometimes my husband and I bicker and squable over the animals, their “abilities” and if they in fact rule the house or not (I have accepted the fact they run the house but I fear my husband is still in denial and thinks we stand a chance — we do not), some days I am absolutely a few minutes late to social engagements because I had to hose off/sanitize/hazmat/biohazard someone’s litter box, bed, behind, paws or on one occasion face but it is life and I do believe that everything happens for a reason and there was a purpose and a reason that my adorable crew of misfits came to bless our home.

And then there are some memories that you just laugh at the horribly-timed misfortune that if you do not laugh you will cry type of moments – like when we took Bifford on his first adventure to Michigan and were unsure how to handle the bathroom issue so at the time my husband and I decided that a diaper would be the best plan of action (in case you were wondering it was not, in fact, the best plan of action!) but we had not decided who would be the official “checker” if we happened to find ourselves catching whiffs of atomic sulfur.

So if you can picture my husband and I circling our vehicle as if we are in some sort of a hazmat standoff because we could not decide who was about to check if Bifford graced us with a code brown or not. After a heated round of few choice words and panic I took the plunge and became the hero that day and checked (luckily it was a false alarm!).

But just like in life, a life with handipets is not for the weak person. They are no more work if you go in with an open mind, a healthy serving of patience and then lastly (but most important) … you must have a warped sense of humor! How else do you cope with life in general? Which is why we enjoy posting all of our funny, adorable, cuddly and sometimes messed up memories because they are all warm memories to us!