When the Spine Breaks but the Spirit Doesn’t: Living with IVDD

When the Spine Breaks but the Spirit Doesn’t: Living with IVDD

A Guest Story by Aliana Prisca > Author of "The Handy Guide to Being a Dog Owner"

This is a personal, true story shared by Aliana Prisca regarding her journey with her two dachshunds and their battle with Intervertebral Disc Disease (IVDD).


The Lessons Dogs Teach Us

If you’ve ever loved a dog, you already know this: they are living, breathing manuals on how to be. They don’t overthink. They don’t hold grudges. They don’t measure life in perfect bodies or perfect outcomes. They just are.

And nowhere is that more clear than when life gets hard—really hard.

This is our story of IVDD. But more than that, it’s a story about resilience, adaptation, and what dogs can teach us when everything doesn’t go to plan.

What IVDD Actually Looks Like

Intervertebral Disc Disease (IVDD) sounds clinical and distant until it lands in your home. Then it’s sudden, emotional, and overwhelming. For us, it wasn’t just one dog—it was both.

We had two miniature smooth-haired dachshunds.

  • Rory went through surgery once.

  • Mia had to go through two operations.

Anyone who has sat in a vet waiting room during spinal surgery knows that kind of waiting—it’s the kind that stretches time and squeezes your chest all at once. Plus, there is the worry of the expense; thankfully, we had insurance.

One of them recovered better physically. The other didn’t. After his surgery, Rory was left semi-paralysed—and he stayed that way for the last eight years of his life.

The Version of Life You Didn’t Plan For

When your dog can’t walk properly anymore, your life changes too. There is a steep learning curve that involves both physical and emotional labor.

The Physical Reality:

  • Learning how to manually express his bladder.

  • Managing accidents without frustration.

  • Adjusting your home, your routines, and your expectations.

The Emotional Reality:

  • Grieving the dog you thought you’d have.

  • Questioning if you’re doing enough.

  • Wondering what their quality of life really feels like.

We tried everything we could to help him, including hydrotherapy.

When Progress Doesn’t Come (Yet)

Hydrotherapy gave us hope. It’s one of those treatments that feels like it should work—gentle, supportive, natural. We committed to it fully. But after a month… nothing. No improvement. No spark. No change.

That kind of plateau can break you if you let it. And then something unexpected happened.

The Conversation That Changed Everything

One day, I just talked to him. Not in a training way, but in a real, honest, heart-open way. I told him I believed in him, I knew he could try, and I was proud of him no matter what.

Within three days, he started trying to walk. Not perfectly, but trying. Whether it was coincidence, timing, or neurological recovery finally kicking in, we knew one thing: dogs listen in ways we don’t fully understand.

The Trolley (Dog Wheelchair) That Changed Everything

Eventually, we got him a custom-made trolley. Suddenly, the world opened up again. We genuinely couldn’t keep up with him! That trolley didn’t slow him down—it unleashed him.

Public Reactions: A Mirror to Humanity

Walking a dog in a trolley brings out a huge range of reactions:

  • Curiosity: People wanting to learn.

  • Admiration: People moved by his determination.

  • Discomfort: People unsure how to react.

  • Judgment: The occasional "Is that fair?" But here’s what mattered: We knew he was happy. He still got excited for walks, he still wagged his tail, and he still wanted to be part of everything.

The Reality Behind the Scenes

Let’s not romanticize it completely. Life with a disabled dog isn’t easy. We manually expressed his bladder, he had no control over his bowels, and there were many messy, exhausting days.

But there were also joyful, funny, and completely normal days. Disability didn’t take away who he was.

The Result: Both of our dogs lived to 15 years old. Not a shortened life, but a full one. IVDD didn’t define their lifespan; it just changed the shape of it.


What Dogs Know That We Forget

If dogs wrote "The Handy Guide to Being a Dog Owner," it would include:

  1. Use what works: Can’t walk? Roll. Drag. Scoot. Adapt.

  2. Don’t dwell on what’s gone: Yesterday’s ability doesn’t matter today.

  3. Joy is still available: Even in a broken body.

  4. Connection matters more than perfection: Your presence matters more than your condition.

  5. Try again tomorrow: Or in three days, apparently.

New Hope: Emerging IVDD Therapies

When we were going through this, options felt limited. Now, things are changing. For the "crunchy mama" crowd—those who lean toward natural, supportive care—there is a growing interest in:

  • Laser Therapy (Cold Laser): To reduce inflammation and promote healing.

  • Improved Rehabilitation: Advanced physio and nervous system support.

  • Modern Mobility Aids: Better prams and specialized dog wheelchairs.

If your dog has IVDD right now, know this: It’s hard, but it’s not the end. Dogs are unbelievably resilient. They don’t measure their worth by mobility. They just keep going with whatever tools they have—whether those tools are wheels, patience, or a human who refuses to give up on them.

Our dogs showed us that a “different” life can still be a full life.


Written by Aliana Prisca

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