That big guy in that picture is my Sully. My Sullivan. Melvin (ask me sometime how he got that name). He's a bulloxer... a breed that never should have happened. He's a bulldog/boxer mix. He's a rescue dog. He was left outside a home to die. He's a hot mess, with food allergies and seasonal allergies, ear infections. He's been with us almost 3 years. He's older than 7 - being a rescue, we had no idea but the estimate was about that. X-Rays show him as much older than that.
He's the dog I SWORE I'd never get after our purebred bulldog, Rocky, died after being with us at 12 weeks old until he was 11 years old. He's a sweetest, most gentle, laid-back dog in the world. And I thought we were going to lose him before Christmas (SPOILER - we didn't).
It started about 2 weeks when he yelped in pain trying to stand. Yelped is putting it mildly... he SCREAMED. X-rays revealed major deterioration in his hips and knees. 3 fused together vertebra. Bloodwork showed an infection somewhere. I seriously thought Sully wouldn't be with us much longer. And my heart was broken.
He was put on a battery of meds. Improvement came slowly, but it came. Now, you'd never know he was in such horrible shape.
I credit his AMAZING vet... a lot of prayers... and a Christmas miracle.