♡Let's rally for the best boy in town♡
February 25th will forever be a day that shifted our world. My sweet baby boy, Aries Berries, just wasn’t himself, and by the next morning, things took a devastating turn. We rushed him to the emergency vet only to hear the words no pet parent is ever prepared for: he has a slipped disk in his back. 😔
The heartbreak of watching him lose the use of his back legs is indescribable. Seeing him struggle to be his usual, happy self breaks me a little more every day. There is a small, flickering glimmer of hope because he still has feeling in them, but right now, he can’t walk. We’re currently facing the reality that if he doesn’t improve, we’ll be looking at a referral for surgery—a $5,000 to $8,000 mountain we’ll have to climb. 😭
Aries Berries is my “velcro dog.” He may have fur and four legs, but he is my son in every way that matters. The truth is, he’s saved my life just as much as I ever saved his.
March 3rd, 2026: We took Aries out to feel the grass beneath him today. He did so well! We even went for a truck ride to lift his spirits. Then, something miraculous happened. He found the courage to try and stand, and he actually took a tiny, shaky baby step. We showered him with praise, and through sheer determination, he tried again—taking two more steps before his left leg gave out. It was a small moment, but it felt like everything.
March 25th: The road has hit another painful bump. Since March 15th, Aries has been suffering from seizure episodes. We’ve seen him twitch before his injury, but nothing like the intensity of the episode at 2:00 AM on the 15th. Usually, I can just call his name or pet him to bring him back to me, but this time, he was gone. I stayed beside him, rubbing his back and whispering his name, just trying to be his anchor until it passed. Kristi sat with us, both of us just praying he’d snap out of it.
He’s had four more minor episodes since then. We’ve spoken with the vet about seeing a neurologist or starting medication, and for now, we are documenting every single moment, filming what we can, and waiting to reevaluate.
Through the seizures and the heartbreak, we are still showing up for him every single day with physical therapy. We are doing everything humanly possible to help him heal. He’s our fighter, and we aren’t giving up on him.
