Emotional State of Matt #14: DISTEMPERED

Driving at night down a back road in Costa Rica with a dead dog in the car was not on my bingo card for 2025, but that's exactly what I did earlier this week. Even now, as I sit down to write this post, the last few days are hard to process. I’m outside at dusk, getting eaten alive by no-see-ums, and this whole situation has me feeling DISTEMPERED.

From late October last year until mid-May this year, I will have spent nearly three months - almost half of my time - in Costa Rica. How did I end up in Costa Rica while I was on a tour of the 50 States? That is an excellent question with a long answer. I was actually just sitting down to write that post when everything went pear-shaped. For now, here is what you need to know:

At the beginning of October last year, I’d been on hiatus from my trip for two months, living with my mom and helping her sort out the aftermath of Jeff’s death. My dear friend from high school and co-instigator, Larissa, talked me into an international trip. She needed a vacation and I needed some time to catch up on the blog. We settled on Costa Rica. 

We discovered heaven on earth, which we now call “The Finca” for short. It's a house on two acres of idyllic land on a remote beach along the Pacific coast of the Nicoya Peninsula. It was so good we’ve been back again twice since.

The on-site caretaker of The Finca is named Chello and, in November, he had two dogs - Doggy and Sammy. Sammy, we discovered, was pregnant, which was shocking considering how thin she was.

Larissa, an animal lover, bonded with them and bought Chello two big bags of dog food when we left before Thanksgiving. 

Sammy delivered a litter of 8 puppies in December. Three were killed and carried off in the night by a jaguar, and four found homes with other people. By the time we returned in February, only one puppy remained. As the progeny of Sammy and Doggy, and because it had rained the whole first month we were there, Larissa called him Soggy. Chello liked the name, and it stuck. 

I never had dogs growing up, but I had a few different cats as a kid and considered myself a cat person. The first time I lived with dogs was my time as Dupree, staying with my friends Brad and Carolyn. I bonded with their dogs, Scout and Atticus, in a way I’d never experienced with cats. When Brad and Carolyn offered to let me stay longer, I’m pretty sure the dogs were part of the reason.

My former partner had a cat when we met, Roma, and we got two dogs together, Arya and Bee. My former partner is a huge animal lover, including being vegan. Although I never shared her fervor for animals, I love our critters deeply. 

When Larissa and I returned again to The Finca in late March, Soggy was 15 pounds of mischief with needle teeth and boundless energy. Larissa replenished Chello’s dog food reserve and got a supply of “trocitos", which she doled out generously. She even started teaching Soggy “sientate” (sit) and “cinco” (high five). She was working on teaching him to stay when she had to return to the US for work. 

Doggy started getting visibly sick near the end of Larissa’s stay. Using our best, Google-assisted efforts, we conferred with Chello and agreed to see if he would improve on his own. Two days passed between taking Larissa to the airport and the next time I saw Doggy after I returned.

I saw him from a distance, walking with Soggy toward the beach. His gait looked a little off, but he seemed to be okay. Soggy was jumping around, biting at his face playfully. When he came back toward the house, he found a little spot of sand by a tide pool and lay down. Then he started convulsing.

I brought a bowl of cold water over to him. He was in bad shape. His hindquarters were flinching like he had hiccups and he had crusty boogers on his eyes. When I put my fingers through the fur on his neck to comfort him, he didn’t even acknowledge my presence. 

It was Palm Sunday, Chello was at church, and everything was closed. Google Maps showed a sole 24-hour emergency vet over 2 hours away in Nicoya, and I didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t my dog, but I couldn’t stand to watch Doggy suffer. 

Then just like that, he stood up. The twitching had stopped, but he looked rough. Chello returned home from church and we discussed the situation. Chello suggested that he "take care of" Doggy himself, but we agreed I would take him to the vet, get an evaluation, then very likely put him to sleep peacefully.

I found a tarp in the garage and laid it in the back of the car. I grabbed a couple of beach towels and lifted Doggy into the back as gently as possible, making him a little nest. I called the vet as I drove away, doing my best on those rutted dirt roads to give Doggy a comfortable ride.

I worried whether I’d done the right thing. Was Chello's solution more humane than taking this poor dog two hours on bumpy roads just to give him an injection? I wanted to make sure that if there was even a 1% chance he could be saved that we would try. As I drove, I thought back to the other times in my life when I had urgently shepherded sick animals to the vet. 

The first time was with Carolyn’s first dog Boo. I was dog-sitting while she and Brad were out of town when he started acting weird. I rushed him to the vet and Brad flew back. An all-nighter and an emergency surgery later, Boo was on the mend and lived many more months. 

Years later, when I was living in Portland. Bee got lethargic and had stopped eating. My former partner and I took her into the emergency vet around 10pm one night. She told us that Bee had developed pancreatitis, which would have been fatal if left untreated. She got medicine, and she’s still her feisty, business-giving self today. 

I entertained fantasies of Doggy receiving a miracle treatment and making a full recovery. I thought about Arya, my first dog with my former partner, who is now 12 years old. I dread the day I get that call - I am not ready for it.

By the time we arrived in Nicoya, Doggy had started snapping his jaw shut involuntarily. My hope was fading. The wonderful Dr. Delgado opened up his practice and welcomed me in. After confirming his suspicions with a blood test, he informed me that Doggy had canine distemper and there was nothing to be done for him. I stroked Doggy’s head while the doctor gave him an injection that ended his suffering. 

Distemper, he gravely informed me, is a usually fatal and highly communicable virus that runs in the canine family of animals. Along the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica, where there are loads of wild animals and free-roaming, unvaccinated dogs, it’s been a major problem lately. Our best guess was that Doggy got it from a dead raccoon we saw on the beach. Raccoons and coatis, although not canines, are close enough to dogs to contract and spread the virus.  

Early detection and treatment provides the only, albeit low probability, chance of beating it. Once it reaches the brain it starts causing neurological symptoms like the convulsing and jaw clamping. When that starts happening it’s too late. My first thought, of course, was of Sammy and little Soggy back at The Finca. The doctor was unable to dispose of Doggy’s body, and Chello wanted to bury it anyway, so it was wrapped in plastic and put back into my car on the tarp. 

The sun set during my two-hour drive back to The Finca. Chello had already dug a grave, but he had to dig it another foot deeper per the vet’s orders. I held the flashlight for him while he shoveled, with bare feet, until he was chest-deep in the hole. Doggy was rolled into the hole, tarp and all, and covered up. We said a few words, and went home for the night. 

First thing the next morning I scheduled time with the vet in Jicaral, just one hour away. Given Soggy’s puppy energy, I gave him Benadryl for the ride. Sammy was very well behaved in the back and Soggy passed out on my lap for the whole bumpy ride. 

In Jicaral, Chello and I got more terrible news. Soggy tested positive for distemper. Sammy wasn’t showing any distemper symptoms, so she couldn’t be tested, but she was diagnosed with a bad case of heartworm. The ride back to The Finca was a solemn one. Sammy was given a 6-month treatment for heartworm, and Soggy was given a two-week treatment for distemper. Dr Aju was very blunt with us about their chance of survival, which weren't great, but at least now they had one.

The vets had also been blunt about the virus and how contagious it is. It’s transmitted through mucous and saliva and it can survive outside a host for up to six months. We were told sternly to disinfect everything thoroughly with Lysol and bleach and to keep Sammy and Soggy away from other dogs - especially unvaccinated ones.

I had to call Larissa and tell her to disinfect everything she'd had here and to make sure she was taking every precaution with her dog. Thankfully Ludo had just had his booster. I had to call the woman who owns The Finca and tell her. It turns out that the next guest coming in a couple of weeks was bringing a dog. 

It's been a few days since the diagnosis and now it's Easter week. All the Ticos (Costa Ricans), it seems, come to the beach this week, many with their dogs. Chello and his partner have had probably 30 different friends and family members over to his house on the property. All the kids have been playing with the dogs and taking them down to the beach. I don’t know if their guests have dogs at home, but I worry that they weren't thoroughly disinfecting when they left.

I spoke with Chello and expressed my concerns. He is at least keeping Soggy off the beach now, but the parade of people are still coming through. He heard the same speech at the vet I did - at least, I assume his in Spanish was the same as mine in English.

He seems in denial about the situation because they haven't developed any further symptoms. I love Chello, but I want to scream. However, I need to remind myself that, although Chello is exceedingly grateful, I wasn't asked to help. This isn’t my house - or even my country, Chello doesn’t work for me, and they’re not my dogs. 

As gut wrenching as the trip was to take Doggy to Nicoya and have put him put down, I’m glad I did it. It allowed us to catch the virus early in Soggy and give him the best chance of survival that he could have.

I had also thought that the diagnosis would allow us to prevent the spread of the virus further, sparing others the awful experience of losing their beloved furry companions. But instead, I spent the afternoon watching kids frolic with a sick dog on the beach, and I am DISTEMPERED. 

Please spare good thoughts for Soggy. If he is able to survive this, it will be a miracle and I will be beyond relieved. Also - everyone - PLEASE vaccinate your pets (and children for that matter) it can save their lives and the lives of others. 

Yes, and…

Matt

If you want to help some other animals, here are a few good places you can donate or volunteer:

Animal Love Rescue Center, Costa Rica

ASPCA

Best Friends Animal Society

Earth Angels Animal Rescue and Sanctuary (run by Stephanie Seaholm, who I stayed with in Utah)