LET me introduce one of the loves of my life, my dog Bonnie.
Bonnie is a three year old Australian Cobberdog, our first family pet and a big sooky, fluffball.
When Bonnie was around 12 months old she started limping.
Initially we thought she might have just twinged her leg doing what puppies do but after a while we realised it wasn’t getting much better. With the help of Steve, at Balance Vet Rehab, Bonnie was diagnosed with hip dysplasia.
My first reaction was sadness and worry.
Would she be able to go on family walks? Can we ever take her to the beach to run in the sand? Was she going to live her life in pain?
As a physio, I knew the clinical side of joint instability and the probable development of arthritis.
But the logic of physiology feels very different when you’re looking into the eyes of your own dog who just wants to run and chase a ball.
What I quickly realised was that the same principle I tell my patients holds true for Bonnie too, movement is medicine.
Completely stopping wasn’t the answer.
Initially it became about finding the right kind of movement.
Like gentle controlled walks on flatter ground instead of the big hills around our house, playing tug-of-war instead of chasing the ball and when we could, getting her in the water.
The bigger lesson, though, wasn’t about biomechanics and loading, it was about patience and taking it one step at a time.
Some days Bonnie is great, she is energetic, trotting along happily as if nothing’s wrong.
Other days, her limp is obvious, she is quiet, subdued and she’s not that keen to go for a walk.
At first, I felt sadness at seeing her like this, especially as a young dog. But over time, I’ve learned to embrace the small wins: the wag of her tail when she gets my full attention, the small but incremental improvement in movement she has and the sheer joy she exudes when she is playing with the kids.
Bonnie has reminded me that rehab is never a straight line, for dogs or humans.
There are ups and downs, setbacks and leaps forward. And most of all, that quality of life isn’t about perfection, it’s about finding ways to keep moving, to adapt, and to enjoy the things you love, even if they look a little different now.
So when I tell my patients to be patient with their bodies, to celebrate the little milestones, I mean it. Because the wag of Bonnie’s tail even when she is sore is proof that we can always find some good.
