Impossible not to draw some similarities between Bill’s loss and our own.

h/t Beijing Boyce on Twitter.

Only a month ago that we began to suspect, and then learned, that our beautiful dog Addie was dying.

These 18 days since she died have been sad, lonely and full of anger at a situation that could never give back what it took from us.

But now, it’s done.

As of this morning, the Chinese distributor of the Optima dog food that killed our dog has paid us compensation and we are closing the book on this painful chapter of our lives.

When, early on, we were told we would need to come up with an amount for compensation, we realized that no amount would equal the suffering and loss we’ve endured. No figure could be attached as a value to Addie, and whatever was paid would never bring her back.

Knowing this, we set ourselves to the task of separating what would need to be a rational and logical decision from the volatile emotions we felt about it. We spoke to a local lawyer friend of ours, and he told us that the last thing we wanted was for this to go to court.

He explained that this isn’t a Western nation, where we might have a case. This is China, and taking it to court would very likely end in frustration and disappointment. Ultimately we’d be lucky if the court ordered the company to pay out anything more than current “book value” for the breed of dog.

He suggested that we try our best to get as much as we can from the company, but ultimately take whatever they will give – as that’s our best chance at receiving any sort of compensation. Dogs (and this might be true in Western law too, I have no idea) are considered nothing but property under the law, and so the best you can expect is compensation for the practical (not emotional) value of that property.

It was with this in mind that we eventually settled with the company for the sum of 10,000 RMB (plus the vet costs, which probably ran about that amount again – but which we never had to pay up front). This figure basically constitutes the cost of Addie (3,000 RMB) and approximately all our expenses in the 10 months of raising her.

In light of the “property” idea, I think the compensation is fair. That it includes an amount, twice that of the purchase price of the dog, which is basically for pain and suffering (something they had no “legal” obligation to compensate for), shows to me that the company is at least attempting to resolve this appropriately.

It’s not enough to bring back our dog, or allow me to forgive what their negligence did, but it never could be.

The important thing to Maggie and I is that we can put this behind us. Each conversation with the distributor, each day we were waiting to resolve this, was just more time when we were forced into remembering with vivid detail the horrible month it has been and the incredible loss we still feel.

Addie was our baby and her death has scarred both of us deeply. I still look for her underfoot, catch myself wondering if she wants to go out and play fetch, and wishing it could have turned out differently. However, at least now we can move forward remembering her life, not her death – remembering all the joy she brought to our home, and believing that the pain of loss makes more vibrant that which we still have.

When all this began I created a Google Alert for “Optima dog food”, so I’d know any time the phrase appeared on Google’s news channel. For weeks there wasn’t a peep, but then suddenly (just after the Shanghai Daily piece) it lit up and I began receiving several notices a day.

Perhaps most prominently, the Associated Press picked up the story, and Elaine Kurtenbach (AP writer) chatted with me for some time about the situation and on what she had discovered about the supply chain (and its convolution):

(AP) … A sales person at Optima Co., the local representative for the product, said the dog food had been sent for analysis, but he would give no details.

“I’m not authorized to speak about this,” said the man, who gave only his surname, Zhang.

Ryan McLaughlin, a Canadian living in the eastern Chinese city of Suzhou, publicized the problem after his own 1-year-old golden retriever, Addie, fell sick after eating Optima dog food.

“When it’s an imported dog food, you don’t expect this sort of thing to happen,” Ryan, who comes from Welland, Canada, said in a phone interview. “Here we were paying the extra cash to try to ensure she was healthy and instead it made her sick,” he said. Addie died on Jan. 5.

Gu, of the local distributor, said only that his supplier was based in Taiwan.

Zhang said the product his company sold came from “somewhere in Australia.”

The AP article was picked up by a few other news sources, including the Canadian Press (CP), reprinted on CBC.

Here’s a partial aggregation of where the story was reported (those that include mention of Addie are noted):

• Shanghai Daily: Emergency recall of dog food after pets poisoned – Jan 12/09
• Associated Press: Shanghai seller stops sales of suspect dog food [Mentions Addie] – Jan 13/09
• Canadian Press/CBC: Pet food suspected of killing dogs in China; distributor suspends sales [Mentions Addie] – Jan 13/09
• CNN: Australian dog food pulled from Chinese stores in health scare – Jan 13/09
• China Daily: Dogs’ deaths linked to imported food – Jan 13/09
• iNews880: Troubles with cheap brake pads & Chinese pet food  - Jan 13/09
• Xinhua: China quality watchdog denies authorizing imports of problematic dog food - Jan 14/09
• People’s Daily: AQSIQ: China never imported Optima dog food from Australia – Jan 15/09
• Seattle PI: Poisoned pet food is killing Chinese dogs. Is it really made in the U.S. or is it counterfeit? [Mentions Addie] – Jan 15/09

It’s been an experience watching the coverage unfold. Seeing where certain news sources pull their information from. It’s a bit surprising to see how little actual journalism goes into it. Aside from one or two of the articles above, the rest are essentially re-writes based on information found online and/or from other news sources. 

That’s fine if the handful of reporters actually reporting have everything in order – but in most situations, they don’t. They can’t. In a case like this, especially in China, the ONLY people that are going to be co-operative are the victims, and they’re (we’re) generally relying on the media to uncover the truth.

And so you get CNN reporting that Optima dog food comes from Australia (it’s very definitely made in the USA), you get a lot of the reports (bordering on editorials) insinuating that it was fake dog food manufactured in China (it’s more likely that it’s real dog food, but illegally imported from Taiwan), and you get virtually every single one of them pointing out a connection to melamine-tainted Chinese-made dog food that killed dogs in the US in 2007 – then making the obvious jump to the melamine milk scandal of last fall.

Does it surprise anyone that when I close my eyes and think “modern media” I have visions of the Keystone Cops or a Benny Hill sketch playing out in my head?

Don’t get me wrong – news exposure is important and the media are purported to be the watchdogs of evil corporations and gov’ts who are looking to endlessly pull fast ones on the public.

But here’s the rub. The increased media exposure, and in turn pressure on local gov’t, has thrown the local distributor into chaos. Assuming it is the media calling for a one-liner or sound-bite, they are now dodging all calls, including those from those of us that have been affected by this situation and whom, until this week, had been receiving at least a decent amount of co-operation.

Maggie and I had a meeting planned with the distributor on Monday to discuss compensation, but when the Chinese media picked up the story they had to cancel, prioritizing their fires. This only worsened as the week went on and the story grew, until now we’ve been given the rather open-ended “we need to wait and see what happens”.

The distributor informs us that before they can reach a compensation deal with us (and allow us to put this whole tragedy behind us and move on), they need to wait and see if the government takes over the case. If so, it would virtually assure we’ll (a) never see a dime of compensation, (b) this will drag on for months and months, and (c) anyone responsible for this situation that can cut and run, will.

On the plus side, whether we see compensation or not, the increased exposure pretty much guarantees that the company responsible will be destroyed – as I doubt anyone would trust them again – which is a reward of sorts. But then, it just creates a void for another distributor to rise and take its place – one without the black-eye and still-tender reminder to not do something like this again.

Bah.

The site reports:

Since the end of November at least 20 dogs are believed to have died in Beijing, Shanghai, Nanjing and Hangzhou from liver complications. Some pets died within 10 days of showing symptoms.

An agent of Shanghai Yidi Pet Co Ltd, a Shanghai dealer of Optima food, admitted that a “severe quality problem” was found in the batch, and they were recalling the products.

Yidi said pet owners should return the contaminated food to be exchanged for other brands.

Yidi purchased the batch of Optima dog food from a Taiwan supplier, according to an agent who declined to be named.

An imported feedstuff registration list posted by China’s Ministry of Agriculture shows that the Optima dog food’s production enterprise is Australia-based Doane International Pet Products.

But Tan said her purchase order said the food was made in the United States. “American-made Optima is a very famous brand. That’s part of the reason I chose it,” Tan added.

The confusion over where Optima is actually made is rampant in the Chinese forums discussing this as well – with most claiming Optima is made in Australia – but Optima’s Web site clearly indicates that it is “Made in U.S.A.”

Optima is owned by Doane International Pet Products, as the SH Daily reports, however where SH Daily says it is Australia-based doesn’t jive. According to the company’s history, the company was originally based in Missouri, but moved to Brentwood, Tennessee, after a merger in 1998 with Windy Hill Pet Food. This corresponds with both the company’s Web site registration, as well as Optima’s address. No mention of Australia at all.

I’m generally not one to go looking for conspiracies or cover-ups, but if SH Daily is right and China’s Ministry of Agriculture shows Optima pet food coming from Australia – there is a massive failure in the transparency of the distribution chain.

When this all started (December 22, 2008) I e-mailed Optima via their Web contact form:

My name is Ryan McLaughlin and I am a Canadian living in China.

I have a one year old golden retriever and since we got her last February we\’ve been feeding her Optima Puppy Formula (alternating chicken and lamb).

As I\’m guessing you\’re well aware, the local media and message boards are filling with reports that Optima food is killing dogs due to contaminants that are causing liver failure.

My wife is Chinese and so has been following all this in Chinese, as well as in dialog with our local Optima dealing pet shop, but I\’ve not seen anything online about it.

So, to be blunt about it, are you killing my dog?

Ryan McLaughlin

The e-mail was sent to Optima’s sales department, which seems to use the address sales@nappinc.com (nappinc.com domain expired December 28, 2008) and then was forwarded to Shirley Yu from an e-mail using the domain effem.com – which appears to be connected to Mars, Inc.. Her reply:

Dated December 26, 2008
Mr. Mclaughlin,

What you described in your mail surprises me. Optima pet food is produced in US and only sold in Taiwan around the world. As a business representive of Optima pet food in Taiwan, we have never been allowed to export any pet foods to PRC either from Taiwan or US.

For your information, Optima had been launched in Taiwan for over 10 years, and never have lethal cases reported. Optima is the top 4 brand in Taiwan market and famous for it’s superior quality and palatability. If you have queries about petfood you bought in China, I would suggest you to directly contact the retailer which you buy products from.

Best Regards,

Shirley Yu

My response:

Dated December 26, 2008
Hi Shirley,

When you say “Optima pet food is produced in US and only sold in Taiwan around the world” are you saying that Optima isn’t exported from the US to any other countries but Taiwan? As that seems to contradict what the Optima Web site indicates.

You said you are a business representative for Optima in Taiwan – but did not indicate your company, nor your title at the company.

According to the OPTIMA literature we received from our local pet shop, it lists Natural Pet (in Taiwan) as the distributor for Optima. Are you the only Optima distributor? Natural Pet’s Web site (www.naturalpet.com.tw) very clearly shows Optima as a brand they distribute and shows distribution to Shanghai, Beijing and Nanjing in the People’s Republic of China.

Our dog has since been diagnosed with exposure to aflatoxin from Optima brand dog food here in China and is in critical condition, not expected to recover. If someone is selling Optima dog food (widely) in China, particularly poisoned dog food, I would think that your company, Optima and Doane would know or want to know about it.

Ryan

To date I’ve still not received a reply from Shirley, nor from CCing the message to the sales@nappinc.com address.

At the end of the day, I really don’t expect this convoluted path to lead anywhere, nor do I believe that Optima, Doane, Natural Pet, Shanghai Yidi Pet Co Ltd, or whoever the fuck is actually responsible for killing my dog to owe up to the true responsibility of that action. How can they? Money? Apologies? None of it will bring back Addie. None of it will fill that which they have taken away from us. And really, none of it will ever allow me to forgive them.

Tomorrow we meet with the distributor to come to some sort of compensation agreement. Part of me wants to fight as hard as I can and reign what fire I can down on the parties responsible for killing a dog I loved so deeply, but another part of me looks forward to being able to lay this all to rest so we can move on and begin to heal.

Ultimately, I know that if I travel down this road of seeking retribution and justice, no matter what I am able to do, I will only find disappointment.

One step in that process is laying her to rest. You would think that with everyone and their cousin having a dog in this city that there would be a well-developed system for handling the dead bodies of our four-legged friends. Nope.

Initially we had planned to bury her someplace near our home here in Suzhou. To do so we would have had to sneak out at night, under cover of darkness, shovels in hand – the picture of a twisted Scooby Doo episode – and bury her before anyone noticed what we were up to. A problem in itself, this awkward affair is compoundly complicated when you consider there are few areas in Suzhou, or any Chinese city for that matter, that aren’t likely to get dug up for development in the next 6 to 12 months.

With the images of Addie’s disturbed remains being churned into foundation for a new over-priced expat sanctuary, we switched our focus to cremation. Problem being that Suzhou has no animal cremation facilities. Always helpful, the vet said he knew of one in Hangzhou and another in Shanghai.

After a bit of hunting (and reading about this scary experience), we found that Shanghai has a big government-invested crematorium for animal body disposal. Only problem was getting Addie’s body to Shanghai.

Peter, the owner of Wàng Wàng Gōng Guǎn (汪旺公馆 – on Sú Xiù Lù/苏绣路) – the vet/pet shop that had been helping us care for Addie over the last week or so, volunteered to take us, all we had to do was cover gas and tolls. A remarkable guy, coupled with their care and service, I really can’t recommend them enough.

After borrowing his friend’s car, and loading Addie’s body (which they were storing at their shop) in the trunk, Peter picked us up and I endured one of the scariest car rides of my life (and I’ve had a few). He spent more time whizzing 140 km/h down the shoulder than he did on the roadway proper. But, he got us there in one piece.

The crematorium is in the middle of no where, which considering its function, probably makes sense. Should anyone need to find it, the address is:

上海市奉贤浦南病死畜禽无害化处理站
上海市奉贤区庄行镇浦卫公路934号
Tel：(021)57462612/57462143
Web: www.pnwhcl.org/p.htm (translated)

If you’re in Shanghai, it may just be easier to talk to your vet about it. I believe there’s inner-city pickup/disposal.

I’ve never been to a crematorium of any kind before, so pulling up to the large tree-lined compound I wasn’t sure what to expect.

We were greeted by a rather helpful attendant who instructed us to park and come into the office. We filled out some paperwork and paid the fee (200 RMB to have her body cremated solo). We were then asked to give him the body, to which it appeared he would then pedal to a large building in the back of the complex with a smoke-billowing chimney sticking out of it.

For the sake of imagery here, Addie’s body had been wrapped in blankets and placed in a large box when they collected her from our home on Sunday, and so wasn’t laying exposed in the trunk of the car.

Removing the box from the trunk the man exclaimed that it was far too big for him to take and that we should drive it the 50m back to the incinerator. This suited us just fine, as we wanted to be there to assure they properly handled the situation (ie. didn’t just dump her in a bin and hand us a cup of random ash).

The atmosphere was about what you’d expect from a government-run facility that’s primary purpose was to dispose of dead livestock (deadstock?). We didn’t get much of a tour, but before carrying Addie’s body inside the barn-sized building, I couldn’t help but notice a huge bin of pig corpses further back on the lot. Kind of creepy.

It didn’t take long once inside for the workers to remove Addie from the box and, still wrapped in the blanket and sheets, put her in the furnace. We were then gently rushed out of the building by the front gate attendant, explaining that the area wasn’t the safest place due to many of the dead corpses in the back having succumbed to disease. Again, kind of creepy.

With 40 minutes to wait for the process to complete and the ashes to be returned, Maggie and I walked around the impressive building that houses the facilities offices, washrooms and … a cafeteria. Have I mentioned, creepy?

The time passed and eventually the attendant appeared with our small urn, wrapped in newspaper and still warm. We got back in the car and returned to Suzhou (in pure Battle For Endor fashion) in a rather somber, but satisfied, manner.

We will hold on to Addie’s ashes until the weather improves and we can take them and spread them someplace beautiful and befitting.

A moment for thanks

I just want to take this opportunity to say thank you to everyone who has given their condolences to Maggie and I during this rather rough time. I’ve received numerous comments, Twitter tweets and e-mails offering support and well-wishes. Thank you everyone, it is truly touching that so many of you, most whom I’ve never met in person, took the time to do so.

Also, thank you to Kenneth Tan and the Shanghaiist for picking up Addie’s tragic story and sharing it with a larger audience. Though it may be too late now, if her story can help save anyone else from going through what we went through, it was well worth sharing.

Update: Also thanks to Richard Brubaker and All Roads for elavating the exposure of this horrible tragedy.

Reason. Ration. These are vile words when you’ve lost a loved one. Words that, like some linguistic drug, offer you an escape from the pain you’re feeling by masking it with purpose and order.

But, and continuing with the metaphor, they’re circular. Rationalizing the death leads no where. There’s no reason. It’s just happened and now she’s gone – leaving us with an unanswerable question: why?

I can ask the pet shop why they sold us food that killed our dog. I can ask the distributor why they didn’t take better precautions in the food’s storage, allowing it to develop the poison that killed our dog. I can ask the manufacturer why they don’t hold more responsibility over their distribution network, and why they’ve not even commented on the fact that their product killed my dog.

But none of their answers will mean anything. No apologies or compensation will put substance back in that void that has been left in our home today.

Nothing they do will be able to remove the scar that has been left on me for having to watch my dog die, having to feel with my own hands her heart slow and then stop. She didn’t go to sleep, she didn’t slip away, she didn’t benefit from any of the euphemisms that I now envy. She died.

I can’t put to words the sadness I feel.

It’s been a week, and with three days to go, Addie’s still putting up a good fight. She’s looking a bit worse for wear though, and despite us doing our best to clean her, smells of a rather horrible combination of stomach juices and sweet glucose water we have to feed her. Additionally, her liver failing has caused her to now be suffering from ascites, or fluid in the abdomen.

The ascites is creating pressure on her diaphragm, which is causing her breathing to be a bit laboured. Whether it’s the ascites or another side-effect of liver failure, she’s also continually having stomach/GI cramping, causing her to suffer quite a bit of discomfort.

The hardest thing remains keeping food and medicine in her stomach. The SAMe tablets that she’s on take a long time to dissolve, and it’s a rare thing indeed for her to go through long periods where she doesn’t add a new technicoloured stain to her bedsheet.

Though the above may seem like she’s in bad shape, and she is, I’m still hopeful. She’s been in roughly the same shape for the last two days or so, and the ascites swelling has gone down a bit. She looks tired, and is no doubt in pain, but we’re not throwing in the towel yet.

Obviously the question of when we surrender is close on both Maggie’s and my mind. Maggie asked me today when we will have to make the tough decision to put Addie down so as not to force her to suffer needlessly. My answer centers around that last bit. Needlessly.

She’s young and she’s tough. She has the will to survive this, or she would have already given up. Now, I understand that it may come down to her just not having the physical strength to beat this, but I feel we need to make sure that we give her every opportunity to win.

It’s impossible not to anthropomorphise a bit here, so let me dive in.

I look at Addie’s situation as if it were me. There are a lot of situations where if I was in a lot of pain I would want to die and would hope (if I was not able to express it) that people who love me would help me do so. All of those situations revolve around chronic, unmanageable, quality of life destroying pain.

In the short-term, it would suck, but I would be more than willing to suffer the pain, a lot of pain, to keep my life. Of course, there’s nothing good about it. It’s pain, it’s illness, it’s discomfort, it’s humiliating, it’s tiring, it’s messy. And it’s hard to watch someone (or some dog) endure. But me not wanting to watch as my dog fights for her life is not reason enough, in my mind, for us to make the decision to end it. Not yet.

Maggie, quite logically, asked then how we’ll know it’s time. I really can’t say, other than to say that we’ll just know. I think we’ll know when she’s stopped fighting. She asked if I thought we were unnaturally keeping her alive through the use of medicine/IVs, but I don’t think so. She’s not on machines. Her body is still doing everything itself, and the IVs, nutrients and pills we’re giving her all work to keep it that way.

Basically, what it comes down to for me is – if she’s willing to fight, I’m going to keep fighting for her too. Human or not, I don’t think it’s my right to take that away from her.

The Lighter Side…

It’s New Year’s Eve – let me leave this with a less-heavy message. I’m off to cook up some steaks and baked potatoes, cork a bottle of wine, heat up some mulled wine, kick back and greet the new year with a cigar.

Wishing everyone a very happy new year and a prosperous 2009. 新年快乐!

First, she’s de-energized but still fighting. She’s having a really hard time keeping any food (and/or pills) down, and is quite nauseated most of the time. We’ve routinely been giving her shots to help with the nausea, and that seems to alleviate it for a while, but hasn’t much helped her appetite (we’re now feeding her baby formula/food as a quick and easy way to get nutrients and protein into her).

Additionally, one of the key drugs is S-Adenosyl methionine (SAMe), which is a horse-choker of a pill that seems barely digested even after waiting 6-8 hours before being regurgitated. Apparently there’s an intravenous version for humans, but none of the vets are able to get their hands on it.

Speaking of vets, we’ve switched from Cao Lang Feng down by the Suzhou Zoo to Wang Wang Gong Guan (汪旺公馆) here in SIP. The closer proximity is a bonus, but the choice was hardly ours. After going to Vet Cao for the last few days, when Maggie went there yesterday the staff explained that if we wanted to stay we’d have to pay the approx. 1500 RMB/day because the dog food distributor had cut off payment there.

Rather confused by this turn of events, the story we got from Vet Cao was that the cheap-ass distributor didn’t want to pay the high costs associated with the “premium” care at Cao Lang Feng Animal Hospital – largely considered the most well-equipped vet in Suzhou.

The distributor (predictably) had a different opinion. He told Maggie that Cao Lang Feng had been using this aflatoxin exposure as a big payday. He accused Vet Cao of ordering unneeded and excessive testing and expensive blood transfusions as a way to beef up the bill – which he knew the “clients” wouldn’t have to pay for. He then also said he’d heard that Vet Cao was overheard saying to a friend, “When else am I going to get a chance to make this money from them?” The distributor seemed pretty bothered by this, as he had a long relationship with the animal hospital. He also added that at least one dog brought in with this problem had died not from the liver damage, but because no one was caring for the dog while it was having an IV.

It’s impossible to say who is right, and so rather than bother ourselves with that unanswerable question, we are keeping focused on maintaining the quality of care that Addie needs. We went to Wang Wang yesterday and checked out the place before committing to the switch, but we had already developed a decent opinion of the place based on recommendations from friends and the fact that this was the animal hospital that tracked down someone to make an 11pm house-call the first night when Addie had the allergic reaction to her meds.

Admittedly, Wang Wang seems like a smaller operation and the staff seem quite a bit younger – but we’re pretty happy with the change. Despite being the “biggest and best”, Cao Lang Feng seemed very cold, dreary and depressing. The staff were curt and none of the vets ever said anything but that we needed to prepare for Addie’s death. Wang Wang, on the other hand, seems warm, bright and the staff (perhaps because of their un-jaded youth) seem to genuinely love and care for animals.

They also gave us hope – and that’s something we really need. We accept that aflatoxin exposure is most often fatal. We know that Addie is going to have to be a damn lucky dog to survive, and even if she does she’s going to have a long road to recovery, which is not likely to ever be “full recovery”. We know this. But it’s not the knowledge of this that’s going to drive us to stay up all night administering IVs, cleaning up her vomit, encouraging her to eat, forcing pills down her throat, and trying through it all to keep a positive attitude in hopes that it will carry over to her.

The other awesome thing about Wang Wang is rather than stress Addie with nerve-straining and vomit-inducing car trips down to the vets office, they’ve sent out a staff member to give her plasma transfusions, deliver the IV meds, and check up on her right in our home.

The toughest bit in all this though is making sure Addie’s got the right meds. I’ve not got the first clue about proper medicine, but I’m also willing to bet that most staff, at any vet’s in Suzhou – or indeed China – has much idea about how to best and specifically treat aflatoxin exposure. The drugs they’re giving her seem to support this, as they all tend to be generic liver failure drugs – helpful, but not necessarily specific enough.

Thanks to the Internet, I came across an article by Eva Furrow, VMD, entitled “Toxicology Brief: The critical care of aflatoxin-induced liver failure in dogs“. It, along with a few other sources, extol the virtues of Milk Thistle, but none of the vets we spoke with here have heard of it.

We took it upon ourselves to track down the stuff. Calling around to pharmacies we weren’t able to find anyone that carried it, but Maggie tracked down the name of a Chinese manufacturer and then went to the pharmacy and asked to see any drugs (natural or pharmaceutical) that help with liver disease – sure enough she found a pack of Milk Thistle pills.

As I mentioned in my post “Why self-medicating is an essential China expat skill“, self-medicating makes me nervous, but trusting that over-worked and under-paid staff at an (animal) hospital have mine or Addie’s best interests in crystal clear focus also makes me nervous.

Milk Thistle is also relatively harmless/safe to administer, so hopefully it helps.

Anyway, lack of sleep has me rambling here. I think I’ll go see what Maggie and the girl from Wang Wang are talking about in the other room.

After posting the other day about the possibility of her having come into contact with aflatoxin contaminated Optima dog food, a visit to the vet yesterday confirmed it. Her liver is shutting down.

We had hoped that her fussy eating lately was just her usual finicky self. However, when the whites of her eyes yellowed yesterday and she peed in the house (something she never does) we called up the vet and had them send over a car – the downside of having no car in China is that most taxis wont take you with a large dog.

Upon the recommendation of our pet shop, we took Addie to Cao Lang Feng Pet Hospital. The service was great, if somewhat typically health care in style (lots of smiles, but little direct information). Addie had blood taken and we then waited 30 minutes or so for the results to come out.

While waiting we asked some of the vet nurses (assistant vets? what’s the terminology here?) if they had seen a lot of dogs coming in because of the Optima dog food problem and they confirmed they had.

The blood results showed she was definitely symptomatic of liver failure due to aflatoxin exposure.

The vet explained that dogs afflicted are showing about a 20% chance of recovery (a euphemism for saying that 4/5ths of the dogs are dying). He prescribed some liver protecting medication and told us all we can do is take care of her best we can and hope she pulls through.

The medication is all done via IV, but the vet gave us the option of leaving her there for them to care for her or letting us take her home to care for her. We decided on bringing her home, figuring that the cold, strange and noisy kennel was no place for her to try and fight this.

Essentially, the vet said that once diagnosed most dogs were either improved or dead after 10 days – so that’s our time frame.

While waiting for the medication to be prepared, some representatives from the dog food distributor arrived. I’m not sure if they were from Optima (as they were Chinese, that’s unlikely), Natrual Pet (the Taiwanese importer to the Mainland) or the local Chinese representatives for Natural Pet (most likely).

Corporate Damage Control

I watched Addie while Maggie went into a room with them and talked about the situation. They essentially laid out that they would cover all medical costs related to this, and in the event of her death they would come up with compensation of some sort. How exactly do they calculate that? Pro-rated from time of birth with a bonus for a good temperament and numbers of hours trained? I realize they’re managing the damage and just doing their jobs, but fuck – assholes. They very likely killed my dog and actually had the audacity to tell Maggie they’ll reimburse us based on book value for the breed plus a bit for pain and suffering.

The one good thing that came out of the conversation is that we learned a bit more about what happened. Apparently the Olympics are to blame. Fucking Olympics. Allegedly, the reason for the contamination is because during the Olympics the Chinese gov’t set tight restrictions on ports of entry for importing. All the dog food was therefore brought in through the hot and humid Guangzhou, where it sat in a non-temperature controlled warehouse long enough for the aflatoxin to develop in the food.

Back at home

Getting Addie back home we set her up with a custom rigged IV suspender (a step-ladder and a coat hanger – I felt like frigin’ MacGyver). It’s a bit weird giving your dog an IV, but they made it as easy as possible by installing an “butterfly” in her leg by which we can just plug in the new IV to.

She was prescribed four medications, and about 10 minutes into the second bag of medi-juice she started fidgeting and her lips swelled up. Almost immediately after pulling out the IV she let loose from both ends. Our night was going swell. While I sat with Addie, as she slowly slipped into unconsciousness, Maggie called the vet in a panic.

With no way to get Addie to the vet, we were referred to a pet shop in SIP (our district) that had the shot she needed to reverse the allergic reaction. Unfortunately, no cab was going to take Addie, even if we could get her out to the road. Miracuously the vet called up a staff member and sent him out to our house with the needles. By the time he arrived Addie was nearly normal (thank god), but we stuck her just to be sure.

By the time we were finally able to get the next IV into her it was midnight, and we were completely beat. Rather than have both of us fight to stay awake with her, we decided to take shifts. Maggie went first, and I promptly slept through the first shift change, finally taking over at about 4:30 until the last drop dripped at about 7am.

And that’s the story of how I discovered there was no Santa Clause. Fat man never showed.

Christmas Morning … later

After a bit of sleep, we got up and did our best to have a Christmas morning. I did a bit of a fry-up, we exchanged gifts and then went back to worrying about Addie.

We took her back down to the vet at about 1:30 today and got more blood work done. No major changes, but her platelet count (I’m guessing by the rough translation I got) was lower – not great.

The vet suggested that while we were there we again give her the IV she had a reaction to last night, but add in some anti-allergy stuff. Though the reaction wasn’t as bad, she still began getting irritated and her face began to swell a bit – so that stuff’s out. We stuck around a bit longer to let Addie’s veins suck back one of the other bags of meds – one less thing we’d have to do later at home and nice to have the vet show us how the damn IV works (a day late).

We’re home now, just hooking Addie up to one of two more IVs she’ll need to have tonight and trying to figure out when best to give her some food and a pill she needs to have (but always ends up throwing up a couple hours after taking it).

To her credit, Addie is being a complete doll about everything. She’s let an endless line of people jab her with sharp objects, stick chemicals in her, push pills down her throat and force her into cars (she’s NOT a car dog). Through it all she sort of lumbers along, only showing enough distaste for it to let us know she’s not pleased about it but trusts that we know what we’re doing.

I wish we did. This is easily one of the most difficult things I’ve had to deal with. Not having any control or real understanding of what is happening is not a feeling I will be looking to repeat.

Apparently since the end of November about 30 dogs have died in the Yangtze Delta (Shanghai, Nanjing, Suzhou, etc.) of liver complications – and they all ate Optima dog food.

According to the pet shop, the food was contaminated with “黄曲霉素”, or aflatoxin, an extremely toxic and carcinogenic fungus that can contaminate grains, spices and nuts. In 2006 it was aflatoxin that was responsible for a number of dog deaths that had eaten contaminated Diamond dog food.

The Chinese message boards are buzzing with chatter about this news about Optima (see Google search for Optima’s Chinese name: 优格狗粮), but we’ve not seen anything from “official” channels yet.

Adding confusion is that the message boards are reporting that the China-distributed Optima is manufactured in Australia – which is in conflict with the big “Made in the USA” image on Optima’s Web site.

This is particularly scary for us, as Addie has been very fussy about her food and hasn’t been eating it without some coaxing on our end. And then the other day she threw up – all matching the symptoms of aflatoxin exposure. However, they also match the symptoms of a dog in general, so we’re hopeful. Also, that she’s not lethargic is a good sign she wasn’t exposed.

Here’s what little I know:

Optima Professional Pet Foods is a brand under the Doane International Pet Products. According to the Optima flyer we had lying around the dog food is imported into China through Taiwanese company Natural Pet and then distributed in Mainland China via 北京裕康园商贸有限公司 (Beijing) and 上海瑞宠商贸有限公司 (Shanghai).

Am still waiting for a response from Optima. Meanwhile, we’ve switched Addie to a combination of Purina Pro Plan and Natura Innova – credit to our pet shop, they drove to our house, examined Addie for signs of liver problems (yellowing of the skin/gums/eyes, and enlarging of the abdomen) and switched out all our Optima dog food.

For now we’re just going to watch her closely for any unusual behavior. If anything changes we’ll be taking her to the vet right away, despite the fact that if she has been exposed to aflatoxin and is suffering from liver failure, there’s little a vet can do.