Help With Falcor's Medical Bills
Donation protected
Our beloved little Falcor has been very sick and was close to dying. His human Wonder Russell has been heart broken.
A few things about Wonder:
1. Falcor is her baby. Her Horcrux. Her Road Dog. She would do anything for him.
2. Wonder has supported so many people throughout the years. Through Kickstarter, Seed&Spark and gofundme. She's a tireless champion for so many people and never asks for a thing in return.
3. She has a really hard time asking for help. Which is why I'm running this campaign for her. She needs our help.
Three weeks ago Falcor became very sick (summary below.) On top of multiple Vet ER visits, driving to Pullman to see a specialist and having almost all his teeth pulled, Wonder has lost her job. Her company she's been with for 9 years has folded. Now on top of thousands of dollars of vet bills, she has lost income and is currently applying for other jobs.
She needs us. Anything will help. I can't think of a more giving, kind and deserving person to send a few bucks to.
Here is the breakdown of bills:
- 9/09, South Seattle Vet, $327 (first exam)
- 9/14, South Seattle Vet, $634 (first hospitalization)
- 9/28, South Seattle Vet, $656 (hospitalized)
- 10/17, Inland Empire Vet, $360 (ultrasounds)
10/17, Pet Emergency Clinic of Spokane, $500 (first intake deposit)
- 10/18, Pet Emergency Clinic of Spokane, $959 (hospitalization)
- 10/18, Animal Eye Clinic of Spokane, $310
- 10/19, Pet Emergency Clinic of Spokane, $846 (continued hospitalization)
- 10/25 WSU Vet Medical Hospital, $2000 (initial hospitalization + tests)
- 10/27, WSU Vet Medical Hospital, $1250 (remaining hospitalization + tests)
- 10/31, South Seattle Vet, $980 (dental extractions + meds)
Total to date: $8,822
Statement from Wonder about this journey:
When Lisa told me she wanted to do a GoFundMe for Falcor's medical bills, I could have cried at her thoughtfulness. I was alone in a motel in Pullman, WA, while my best buddy, The F-Bomb, Sir Waggy, Falcor Happy Pants, my Luck Dragon, was on his most recent hospital stay. "Wonder lost her job and Falcor almost died," was Lisa's original pitch title. It made me laugh because...it's true.
About two months ago in mid September, I was at my desk at work when I realized that Falcor was acting strange. When I picked him up to give him a cuddle, he cried out in pain and I knew something was wrong. We left work immediately and went straight to our vet, who thought Falcor had possibly injured his back or his shoulder. However, a series of X-rays of his neck, back, and legs revealed no issues. "Maybe it's early arthritis," they said, while admitting they didn't see any signs of that. They sent us home with anti-inflammatories and painkillers and told me to see if he improved.
Falcor did improve, temporarily. Then he got much, much worse.
Over the next month, Falcor's health became a roller coaster. He would seem to be getting better and even act playful, and then without warning he'd, stop eating, have a day or two of diarrhea, and would continue to strain to defecate with nothing but blood coming out. He walked gingerly with his tail tucked, his back hunched in pain. I tried hand feeding him super high quality canned dog food, yogurt, peanut butter, rice made with bone broth, boiled chicken, hard boiled egg whites, scrambled eggs - any of the foods recommended to me or that I knew he liked. But instead, he hid in his travel case, turning his head away from every offer.
I once noticed something really strange: other dogs didn't want to get close to Falcor. They'd stand afar off from where Falcor huddled in his case, their necks stretched out and sniffing the air aggressively. Then they'd balk and acted afraid to come near him. I knew Falcor was dying.
This time I admitted him to a hospital with an Internal Medicine specialist. He stayed there 48 hours while they ran every test; ultrasounds, more bloodwork, more x-rays. They took needle draws of fluid from areas that looked suspicious - swollen lymph nodes, enlarged liver, even his bladder. Frustratingly, nothing came back abnormal. "Your guy is a bit of a mystery," the doctor told me.
We also got him into an animal ophthamologist in the area, thanks to WSU's animal science program. They confirmed he had uveitis, an inflammation in the eyes that had caused an ulcer in his left eye. Untreated, he could have gone blind. But nothing else made sense.
48 hours after Falcor was admitted, he seemed to recover and we went home to Seattle. But less than a week later, his symptoms were back. The lows just kept getting lower, and every time he hit these setbacks it was worse. I felt like death was closing in and I kept trying to outrace it with my credit cards.
"It's time to go to Pullman," my Mom texted me. I agreed. The teaching hospital at WSU is one of the best in the nation. After explaining his recent history, the vet on the phone said, "How soon can you be here?" I was home in Seattle and still in pajamas. My mind raced. "Five hours, maybe six so I can get gas and some food for the road?" and off we went.
Falcor spent 48 hours in the Pullman hospital. Once again we started the battery of tests: bloodwork, X-rays, ultrasounds. Needle draws of the fluid in his eyes and in his joints. They did a CT scan of his head looking for tumors and took a nasal biopsy from a cluster of inflamed tissues and cells that were causing him labored breathing. "It's almost like he's trying to breath through his mouth," the vet said. "I've never seen a dog try to inspire through his mouth."
Sure they would find a mass in his intestines, they performed an endoscopy through his mouth of his upper intestine, and an endoscopy through is anus of his lower intestine, and took biopsy samples. They found nothing. "It's actually the most normal GI I've seen in months," the vet said, obviously frustrated.
We did find one clue: the CT scan revealed dental decay that didn't show up in any of the physical exams. "That doesn't explain any of his GI distress though," the vet warned.
Since our Pullman visit, I am waiting on the biopsy results. They had been reluctant to discharge him, but after all, I had a job to get back to. I'd already taken time off for the trips to Spokane and Pullman, and I'd had to completely chancel a work trip to LA. We drove home to Seattle and got his infected teeth pulled.
Then I lost my job. On November 3, Runic Games was closed forever. That Friday was our last day. Out of work, just like that. The timing is devastating.
If you know me, you know Falcor, and he's probably touched your life in a way you won't forget. He's the most loving and sweet soul, a little adventurer who loves fetch and hiking, a buddy so well behaved you didn't know he was sleeping on my coat BACKSTAGE while I was performing theatre. He is so well loved at Runic that they put him in our game Torchlight II as the papillon pet. Falcor is only 9 years old, and the average lifespan for a papillon is 13-15 years. He's been my buddy and best friend since he was 8 weeks old.
Today, Falcor is still recovering well from oral surgery, and eating a few bites of the dog food I'm making for him at home. We're waiting on a new medication that Pullman expressly formulated for him as well as the biopsy results.
A few things about Wonder:
1. Falcor is her baby. Her Horcrux. Her Road Dog. She would do anything for him.
2. Wonder has supported so many people throughout the years. Through Kickstarter, Seed&Spark and gofundme. She's a tireless champion for so many people and never asks for a thing in return.
3. She has a really hard time asking for help. Which is why I'm running this campaign for her. She needs our help.
Three weeks ago Falcor became very sick (summary below.) On top of multiple Vet ER visits, driving to Pullman to see a specialist and having almost all his teeth pulled, Wonder has lost her job. Her company she's been with for 9 years has folded. Now on top of thousands of dollars of vet bills, she has lost income and is currently applying for other jobs.
She needs us. Anything will help. I can't think of a more giving, kind and deserving person to send a few bucks to.
Here is the breakdown of bills:
- 9/09, South Seattle Vet, $327 (first exam)
- 9/14, South Seattle Vet, $634 (first hospitalization)
- 9/28, South Seattle Vet, $656 (hospitalized)
- 10/17, Inland Empire Vet, $360 (ultrasounds)
10/17, Pet Emergency Clinic of Spokane, $500 (first intake deposit)
- 10/18, Pet Emergency Clinic of Spokane, $959 (hospitalization)
- 10/18, Animal Eye Clinic of Spokane, $310
- 10/19, Pet Emergency Clinic of Spokane, $846 (continued hospitalization)
- 10/25 WSU Vet Medical Hospital, $2000 (initial hospitalization + tests)
- 10/27, WSU Vet Medical Hospital, $1250 (remaining hospitalization + tests)
- 10/31, South Seattle Vet, $980 (dental extractions + meds)
Total to date: $8,822
Statement from Wonder about this journey:
When Lisa told me she wanted to do a GoFundMe for Falcor's medical bills, I could have cried at her thoughtfulness. I was alone in a motel in Pullman, WA, while my best buddy, The F-Bomb, Sir Waggy, Falcor Happy Pants, my Luck Dragon, was on his most recent hospital stay. "Wonder lost her job and Falcor almost died," was Lisa's original pitch title. It made me laugh because...it's true.
About two months ago in mid September, I was at my desk at work when I realized that Falcor was acting strange. When I picked him up to give him a cuddle, he cried out in pain and I knew something was wrong. We left work immediately and went straight to our vet, who thought Falcor had possibly injured his back or his shoulder. However, a series of X-rays of his neck, back, and legs revealed no issues. "Maybe it's early arthritis," they said, while admitting they didn't see any signs of that. They sent us home with anti-inflammatories and painkillers and told me to see if he improved.
Falcor did improve, temporarily. Then he got much, much worse.
Over the next month, Falcor's health became a roller coaster. He would seem to be getting better and even act playful, and then without warning he'd, stop eating, have a day or two of diarrhea, and would continue to strain to defecate with nothing but blood coming out. He walked gingerly with his tail tucked, his back hunched in pain. I tried hand feeding him super high quality canned dog food, yogurt, peanut butter, rice made with bone broth, boiled chicken, hard boiled egg whites, scrambled eggs - any of the foods recommended to me or that I knew he liked. But instead, he hid in his travel case, turning his head away from every offer.
I once noticed something really strange: other dogs didn't want to get close to Falcor. They'd stand afar off from where Falcor huddled in his case, their necks stretched out and sniffing the air aggressively. Then they'd balk and acted afraid to come near him. I knew Falcor was dying.
This time I admitted him to a hospital with an Internal Medicine specialist. He stayed there 48 hours while they ran every test; ultrasounds, more bloodwork, more x-rays. They took needle draws of fluid from areas that looked suspicious - swollen lymph nodes, enlarged liver, even his bladder. Frustratingly, nothing came back abnormal. "Your guy is a bit of a mystery," the doctor told me.
We also got him into an animal ophthamologist in the area, thanks to WSU's animal science program. They confirmed he had uveitis, an inflammation in the eyes that had caused an ulcer in his left eye. Untreated, he could have gone blind. But nothing else made sense.
48 hours after Falcor was admitted, he seemed to recover and we went home to Seattle. But less than a week later, his symptoms were back. The lows just kept getting lower, and every time he hit these setbacks it was worse. I felt like death was closing in and I kept trying to outrace it with my credit cards.
"It's time to go to Pullman," my Mom texted me. I agreed. The teaching hospital at WSU is one of the best in the nation. After explaining his recent history, the vet on the phone said, "How soon can you be here?" I was home in Seattle and still in pajamas. My mind raced. "Five hours, maybe six so I can get gas and some food for the road?" and off we went.
Falcor spent 48 hours in the Pullman hospital. Once again we started the battery of tests: bloodwork, X-rays, ultrasounds. Needle draws of the fluid in his eyes and in his joints. They did a CT scan of his head looking for tumors and took a nasal biopsy from a cluster of inflamed tissues and cells that were causing him labored breathing. "It's almost like he's trying to breath through his mouth," the vet said. "I've never seen a dog try to inspire through his mouth."
Sure they would find a mass in his intestines, they performed an endoscopy through his mouth of his upper intestine, and an endoscopy through is anus of his lower intestine, and took biopsy samples. They found nothing. "It's actually the most normal GI I've seen in months," the vet said, obviously frustrated.
We did find one clue: the CT scan revealed dental decay that didn't show up in any of the physical exams. "That doesn't explain any of his GI distress though," the vet warned.
Since our Pullman visit, I am waiting on the biopsy results. They had been reluctant to discharge him, but after all, I had a job to get back to. I'd already taken time off for the trips to Spokane and Pullman, and I'd had to completely chancel a work trip to LA. We drove home to Seattle and got his infected teeth pulled.
Then I lost my job. On November 3, Runic Games was closed forever. That Friday was our last day. Out of work, just like that. The timing is devastating.
If you know me, you know Falcor, and he's probably touched your life in a way you won't forget. He's the most loving and sweet soul, a little adventurer who loves fetch and hiking, a buddy so well behaved you didn't know he was sleeping on my coat BACKSTAGE while I was performing theatre. He is so well loved at Runic that they put him in our game Torchlight II as the papillon pet. Falcor is only 9 years old, and the average lifespan for a papillon is 13-15 years. He's been my buddy and best friend since he was 8 weeks old.
Today, Falcor is still recovering well from oral surgery, and eating a few bites of the dog food I'm making for him at home. We're waiting on a new medication that Pullman expressly formulated for him as well as the biopsy results.
Organizer and beneficiary
Wonder Russell
Organizer
Seattle, WA
Wonder Russell
Beneficiary
