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Help save Phoebe's life.

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One-eyed rescue dog who fed kittens needs expensive treatment to save her life

Phoebe so loving she fed motherless kittens before she had eye scratched out by a stray cat

A loving rescue dog which provided milk for kittens - then survived having her eye scratched out by a cat - now needs expensive veterinary treatment for high blood sugar.

Bichon frise Phoebe mothered the two homeless kittens which her owner Cheri Bickley had brought home, but was then attacked by a stray cat in her garden.

Phoebe lost an eye and had to have the eyelids sewn together by a vet, but recently became very weak and went off her food.

Tests showed Phoebe has hyperglycaemia - the scientific name for very high blood sugar - and is being treated with insulin, and also has an inflamed liver and pancreas.

Cheri, 28, said Phoebe now needed £4,000-worth of surgery, but because she does not have pet insurance, has launched an online fundraising page.

“She’s hanging on, but is far from stable yet and this is where my problem lies,” she said.

“Phoebe can’t eat by herself or keep food down, so she needs to be re-admitted to hospital in their intensive care unit for five to seven days until the correct amount of insulin is able to stabilize her, but I just can’t afford the hospital and vet bills right now.

“I’m a very independent lady and I don’t like having to ask for help, but I’m desperate to save my little Phoebe.

“I had to see a private vet, and pay enormous bills. The GoFundMe page has raised £110 so far, but there’s still a long way to go.

“I just cannot bring myself to consider the prospect and grief of letting Phoebe die. I simply couldn’t manage without her.”

Cheri has owned Phoebe since she was a teenager and credits the dog with helping her through difficult family times.

Cheri’s GoFundMe.com page has raised £110 so far but she needs £4,000 to get Phoebe well again.










My precious life companion is ‘Phoebe’. A delightfully humanised, little Bichon Frise.



She has been with me since I was just 16 years old, when I rescued her from a very neglective breeder from mid Wales.


She totally changed my life around, and gave me love, hope, and positivity, at a time when my life was torn apart because my parents decided to divorce.



Phoebe has been with me through all my highs and lows over the last 12 years guaranteeing me comfort, loyalty and always putting a smile on my face whenever I needed. She is my soul mate and best friend.


When Phoebe was 6 years old, I decided to buy two kittens to keep her company on the odd times I wasn't at home. I already knew how much she loved cats when she befriended my neighbours cat. They would often be seen lying down together side by side, or playing and sunbathing in the back garden. (I think she actually thinks she is a cat). The kittens were 10 weeks old when I brought them home, and Phoebe instantly started to mother them. She began by grooming and washing them, but within 24 hours Phoebe had produced her own milk, and the kittens were suckling off her!

Contently purring away, as they filled themselves up with the finest Bichon milk!
I was in no doubt that the kittens believed they were dogs, and the dog was convinced she was a cat!!

Whatever they thought they were, Phoebe had decided that those helpless little kittens were her own babies and they needed looking after with a natural motherly instinct.

Once she knew the kittens were strong enough, she dried up and stopped producing her milk, but she continued herself adopted Matriarchal duties by constantly mothering, comforting, and playing with them.


Several months later... on an innocent, ordinary day, Phoebe’s life changed forever.

She was outside in the backyard eating her dinner in the sun, when a stray Tom cat hopped over the fence into our garden. I guess he was searching for food and was tracking the scent of Phoebe's dinner.

He approached Phoebe from the side, and without any malice whatsoever, she turned her head to greet him, but in the blink of an eye the stray cat struck out at Phoebe's face, and clawed her eye out!!

The horrifying yelp and screech she made stays with me to this day, and sends shudders straight through me whenever I think about it!
The consequences were absolutely devastating, and I apologise in advance for the graphic detail.

In a pure survivalist attempt to push Phoebe off her food, the stray Tom cat had completely clawed out her eye, and it was hanging down on her cheek by a strand. There was blood everywhere and Phoebe was in pain, desperate, and confused. My poor cat-loving doggie had no idea why the cat attacked her.

I instantly went into survival mode, wrapped her up in a blanket and rushed her to the nearest emergency animal hospital. Sadly, the vet was unable to save Phoebe's eye, but she managed to stop the bleeding, and he sewed her eyelids together. Afterwards, she told me that it was the most horrific thing she had ever seen in 10 years veterinary experience.

Poor Phoebe could now only see the world through one eye :(


Phoebe became reclusive. Afraid to go outside. I had to pick her up and carry her out to the garden to her ‘toilet spot’, and stay with her whilst she did her business. I would constantly whisper reassuringly to her while she warily did her toilet duties, and then pick her up and carry her back inside. It took at least 3 weeks of bumping into door frames and chair legs, before she built up the courage to venture out of the back door and into the garden by herself.

She made amazing progress after that, and quickly learned to move her head more, to be able to see stuff on her blind side.

Luckily, we never saw the stray cat again and Phoebe remained having a strong bond with her adopted kittens.

Life has gone on with many happy years, until last weekend when we were struck by another devastating blow.

Out of the blue Phoebe quickly became ill. She started off in obvious discomfort, and so weak that she couldn't stand up.

I rushed her to the local PDSA, (I have used them before) in a panic. I called them from my mobile as I was leaving the house to tell them I was on my way with an emergency case. Unfortunately the call was cut off when my phone credit ran out. I was hoping that they would call me back to continue the conversation, but they didn't, so I proceeded to make my way there anyway.

I arrived at the PDSA animal hospital just 10 minutes later carrying Phoebe in my arms and I was greeted by a grossly unhelpful and unfriendly receptionist. Whilst I stood before her with my dying dog in my arms, the woman proceeded to lecture me about postcode boundaries!

She was arguing that I shouldn't have brought my dog there because my postcode doesn't cover their catchment area. Apparently that particular PDSA only covers up to CV34 and my postcode is CV35.

I frantically explained that I had been to them before and CV34 is literally less than a mile from me. Despite having my desperate dog in my arms and in need of emergency treatment, she told me I should make my way to the Birmingham PDSA centre.

I explained to her that this branch was only ten minutes from my house, but the Birmingham branch was a further 40 minutes away!

I also explained that I only just had enough fuel in my car to get here and I was forced to beg her to allow me to see a vet.

I waited 40 minutes with Phoebe on my lap in a boiling hot waiting room with constant barking and whining dogs waiting to be seen. It was a very stressful environment, adding to a very stressful situation.

From what I can make out, it seemed like there were five vets on duty, and a number of nurses all working away covering appointments. I felt that Phoebe was deteriorating further, so I tentatively approached the receptionist to ask how much longer it would be until Phoebe could see a vet. She replied with; "You can see we are busy, you will have to be patient".

I pleaded with her; "Please can we see someone very soon, this is an emergency and my dog is deteriorating by the minute. She sarcastically replied with; "Why? can't she breathe or something?"

I tell you, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I explained to her that a dog can still be very ill whilst 'still breathing'.

I went there in desperate need of help with my very poorly little girl, and felt discriminated against, bullied, intimidated, let down, and very upset.

I simply could not believe or understand the lack of compassion for an animal in desperate need.
I took a seat and waited another 20 minutes.

Finally I heard someone call Phoebe's name. At last, we were going to be seen!
I put Phoebe on the vets stainless steel table where she tried to sit, but struggled to gain her balance and grip on the slippery surface. I asked the vet if we could get a towel for Phoebe to sit on to support her. Unbelievably, she made a big sigh, rolled her eyes, and reluctantly went and fetched a towel.


The vet asked me details of Phoebe's symptoms. I explained she had been drinking excessively yet seemed dehydrated, and that she had been limping this morning, but now can't even walk. She vomited and had diarrhoea, lethargy, and was very low in mood.

The vet took her temperature, listened to her heart rate and felt her abdomen. Her conclusion was... "It seems she has an undiagnosed ongoing problem which isn't life threatening, which means this is a NON emergency case”.
She advised me to go to my normal vet and make an appointment with them!

Once again I couldn't believe what i was hearing. I knew how unwell my dog was, yet the people who are supposed to be helping us (the professionals/the trained vets) were making us feel like an inconvenience, and that we were wasting their time.

I wasn't prepared to give up. I asked her to please rethink, as my dog was in a lot of pain and needed help and pain relief. She repeated; "Like I said, you need to take this up with you own vet" (They are my vets!). The vet then suddenly lost her patience with me and stormed out of the room. She then returned 2 minutes later and asked me to leave as she had other patients to see.

I pleaded with her to please help my dog. But she snapped back and said “NO, but you can speak to my manager if you like”. I agreed.

The practice manager came in and argued that I had to leave, as I was wasting their time and my dog isn't an emergency case. (I know my dog). I burst into tears. I couldn't hold it in any longer. These people just weren't listening to me, and refusing to help my poorly girl. I told him whilst sobbing; "Please”. “You may not like me or my demina, but please, please help my dog”. “I'm frustrated because no one will help us”. He said "Sorry, your address doesn't fall under our catchment area, therefore we shouldn't have seen you in the first place”!!

I stood there holding Phoebe shaking my head in disbelief. I told him I would pay, I would find a way, whatever it takes. I asked him if he would bring in another vet for a second opinion. He brought in the vet who was stood just around the corner on a computer, who had been there throughout and heard everything that had just gone on.

She examined Phoebe by doing exactly the same as the previous vet, who had now suddenly disappeared. She also came to the same conclusion as the previous vet, which was that Phoebe was not an emergency case.

The manager then walked passed me, opened the door to the waiting room, and said “Sorry, you should leave now”.

I picked Phoebe up and carried her out of the surgery in an utter state of incredulity.

I had been made to feel like I had committed a serious crime or something, and been ganged up on by the receptionist, two vets and the manager!

By now, Phoebe was even worse in herself, and just wanting to sleep. It was like she was shutting down, and I was finding it increasingly more difficult to keep her aroused and awake.

Because I had no remaining call credit, I frantically texted my friend to ask for her advice, and whether she knew of any other vets nearby, I asked her to text me the phone numbers and postcodes of any she could find or think of. She came up trumps in a matter of minutes which gave me chance to find a payphone. I called them straight away, explained Phoebe’s symptoms, and they told me to bring her in without delay.

As soon as I entered the building I was greeted by professional, compassionate people. We were seen without delay, by a very lovely vet called ‘Mary’. She examined Phoebe and instantly came to the conclusion that she needed emergency medical attention as she had a 'dying dog' on her hands!!!!

Phoebe was immediately given pain relief and put on a intravenous drip. She was quickly diagnosed with an inflamed liver and pancreas, blood in her urine (water infection), ketones, and very high blood sugar which meant she was a hypoglycaemic diabetic in a very serious state of pain and dehydration!


Phoebe was transferred by Mary the vet to an overnight hospital at 5.30pm, where insulin treatment was started and full bloods taken. She had intensive care all night long until 1pm the next day. Blood glucose monitored and neutral insulin repeated. She remained on the drip until 12.30pm. She was discharged to me at 1pm to take her home to try and get her to eat, as the insulin wouldn't work unless she started to eat.


She wouldn't eat even her favourite foods and could barely drink more than a sip. I ended up having to take her back to the out of hours hospital at 7pm. She once again got treated and I took her back home to start the feeding process again and I had to give her two injections of insulin and a painkiller injection every day.

Phoebe is hanging on in, but is far from stable yet, and her treatment continues.


Now here's my problem;

As the PDSA were of no help at all, I had no option but to seek help from a private Vet, who were amazing, and have without doubt saved Phoebe's life.

Unfortunately, the Vets fees and overnight stays in the animal hospital are enormous! As I don't have my little girl insured, I am left with a very poorly dog, and zero funds to pay for her medical bills.

Phoebe is currently at home with me, but still in desperate need of treatment. But I am terrified of how I am going to pay for what she's had let alone what she needs.

The emergency Vet has advised me that Phoebe really needs to be admitted into their hospital for between 5 and 7 days in their intensive care unit, until they have got her properly stable on the right amount of insulin.
The cost of this is £500 per day and night. Which I cannot afford.


I am a very independent lady, who has always striven to manage my own needs, and it grieves me to have to ask, or beg for help. But at this time I just cannot bring myself to consider the prospect and grief, of letting Phoebe die. I simply couldn't manage without her.

So please, if anyone out there is able to help me save Phoebe with the medical care she needs, we will be forever grateful.

We are keeping our fingers crossed.


Thank you so much for reading our story.
To give us the best chance of finding the financial help we need, could you please pass on this message to your friends and friends of friends.
Thank you so much. x x x


Organizer

Cheri Bickley
Organizer

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