Cash's Journey : Episode 6 - Mileage on the truck

The Road to Recovery Begins

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of adjustments, progress, and a whole lot of driving back and forth to the vet. Cashie was settling into his new routine, and little by little, I could see the tiniest sparks of improvement—small victories that filled my heart with hope.

After countless check-ups and a new introduction to the clinic’s in-house physiotherapist, we finally had a game plan. No more meds—just movement, therapy, and a whole lot of determination. Cashie didn’t need medicine anymore. He needed to move.

And that’s where Caroline came in.

Caroline: The Dog Whisperer & Magic Healer

Caroline, our physiotherapist, was nothing short of a miracle worker—equal parts dog whisperer and magic healer. She had this calm, confident way about her, like she’d seen it all and wasn’t fazed by anything.

She taught me how to work with Cashie’s body in ways I never would have imagined. Gentle massages to stimulate his muscles, tiny stretches to relieve spinal pressure—even stretching his tail to encourage nerve responses (which, let me tell you, felt incredibly weird at first).

She showed me how to work on his paws, massaging them like some kind of tiny canine reflexologist, kneading his stiff muscles to wake up his nervous system.

So there I was, in my sweatpants, covered in dog hair and exhaustion, giving my pup spa treatments like he was royalty. Who knew rehab could be so glamorous?

A Tiny, Unexpected Victory… and a New Challenge

For weeks, we were at physio two to three times a week, and I was learning fast. And then—it happened.

Cashie peed on his own.

Cue the confetti! The celebration! The happy tears! Until… we realized he had no idea he was peeing.

Yep. My little fighter was basically a leaky faucet with no off switch.

And so, I was introduced to my new best friends: men’s incontinence pads and belly bands with Velcro.

Now, let me tell you, strapping a belly band onto a dog that can’t stand is about as easy as diapering a flailing octopus. The kids tried to help—bless them—but their attempts were... let’s just say less than effective. If the belly band wasn’t snug enough, we’d be greeted with a surprise puddle somewhere in the house.

And so, I became a professional pee detective—checking floors, sniffing the air, and chasing after Cashie like a crime scene investigator on a mission. My mop and I became inseparable.

Strength, Determination, and a Tiny Bodybuilder in Action

But despite the chaos, progress was happening.

One day, out of nowhere, Cashie propped himself up on his elbows.

It was shaky, it was wobbly, but it was movement! Watching him struggle, wiggle, and push himself up felt like watching a tiny, furry bodybuilder in action. He grunted, he wiggled, and then—he did it.

His tail wasn’t wagging yet, his back legs were still on strike, but his eyes… oh, those eyes. They sparkled with determination, with fire, with the unshakable will of a dog who wanted to move again.

And in that moment, I knew.

We were just getting started. ❤️