FINNICK'S FIRST SEASON
Ten years old, wagging, and surrounded by a very good team. Here's how he's doing, at a glance.
Grab a time with Carter whenever you want to talk anything through.
Finnick's map below shows how each part of him is doing. Green means doing great, gold means we're keeping an eye on it, and clay means it's a focus this season. Tap any bubble for the story.
Six parts of his story, one very good boy. Tap a bubble to open it.
Where Carter and Jenny are pointing their attention right now, chosen with, and guided by, Finnick's veterinary team.
His cardiology team is watching his heart closely, and the next check is coming up. Our job: steady routines, calm exercise, and a daily sleeping-breath count.
His readings have drifted up since 2023, so Dr. Ponteres asked for relaxed at-home checks. Home numbers beat clinic nerves every time.
His lower back is getting twice-weekly care, and it's helping. We track the good days and keep movement gentle and fun.
WORTH CELEBRATING
In 2023, Finnick's kidneys were the scariest thing on this page. Today they're the success story. His protein levels came all the way back and have held steady for three years. His veterinary team caught it early, chose the plan, and Finnick did the rest.
Nothing here needs action today. These are the quieter threads of Finnick's story that Carter tracks between visits, so small drifts get noticed early and nothing sneaks up on anyone.
His thyroid number has eased downward over the last 18 months on the same daily dose, from 3.3 to 1.4, still inside the normal range. Worth a fuller thyroid panel at an upcoming visit, because thyroid health also matters to hearts.
Thyroid testing decisions sit with Rise Pet Health.
The medicines protecting Finnick's kidneys quiet his immune system on purpose, and his lymphocyte counts have run below range for well over a year, dipping lowest in mid-2025. His team checks these on every lab day; it's the main reason routine bloodwork never gets skipped.
Dosing and monitoring cadence are his veterinarians' calls.
Platelets have stepped down gradually since early 2024 and now sit near the bottom of their range. A known, watched effect of his kidney-protecting medicine. The trend matters more than any single number.
After holding steady for years, Finnick gained about 13 pounds between December and May, peaking three weeks before his spring heart check. Appetite? Less running? Fluid? Weekly home weights are how we find out, gently and early.
A gut-absorbed vitamin that has drifted from the high end to the middle-low end over two years. Still in range, and an easy, inexpensive question for his internal-medicine team before it isn't.
COMING SOON
When his Maven monitor connects, this space fills with his real numbers, updating on its own, day and night. His sleeping-breath counts will live here too, tracked automatically while he snoozes.
His care team likes sleeping breaths under 30 per minute. A steady trend above 35 is a call-the-vet number.
Small habits, big signal. These two only take a minute, and Maven will handle the rest on its own. Syncing is almost on. Carter is finishing setup. Entries save on this device meanwhile.
Cuff on the front leg while he's lying calm, one or two readings, done. Just like Dr. Ponteres showed.
Same scale, same time of day. Weight tells us things bloodwork can't, quietly and early.
A creature of habit, in the best way. Unless something unusual is going on, this is every single day.
Routine is one of the kindest things we can give a senior heart. Predictable days, predictable naps.
Finnick's current menu, portion by portion. Tap any portion to adjust it as things get refined. This card is meant to stay current. Syncing is almost on. Carter is finishing setup. Entries save on this device meanwhile.
Any change to what's in the bowl gets decided with Finnick's veterinary team. This card just keeps us all looking at the same menu.
Finnick joins Jenny's world, smiley, spotted, and full of opinions.
Allergies and skin flare-ups get figured out, one clue at a time, with his vets.
A hard year, and a turning point. His veterinary team found the problem, made a plan, and it worked.
His cardiology team starts yearly heart pictures and fine-tunes his support as things change.
Everything in one place, one team around one dog, and a clear plan for the months ahead.
The shared to-do list for Team Finnick. Anyone with this page can add, check off, or clear a step, from either end of the leash. Syncing is almost on. Carter is finishing setup. Entries save on this device meanwhile.
Finnick has one of the deepest benches we've seen. Every decision on this page traces back to them.
Finnick's heart muscle is a little stretchier than it should be, a condition his cardiologists have been tracking with yearly pictures since 2023. At this spring's check, Dr. Jung's team saw the changes had moved forward a step, so they adjusted his heart medication and asked us to watch more closely. Here's the important part: Finnick feels fine. No symptoms, full of joy. This was caught by good medicine, not by him feeling sick.
Heart findings and medication decisions here are Dr. Jung's (EchoVet Cardiology), working with Rise Pet Health.
The medical name is dilated cardiomyopathy, or DCM. His cardiologist staged it B1 (early, no enlargement) in 2023 and moved it to B2 (mild enlargement, still no symptoms) in May 2026: the left side of his heart measured larger than the year before, and its squeeze is mildly reduced. His pimobendan dose was increased, and a recheck heart picture is planned for around late November. Two things make Finnick's situation interesting: his diet is grain-free, which cardiologists ask about because of a possible link to this condition, and yet he has taken a daily taurine supplement (the nutrient at the center of that theory) since December 2023 and the changes still progressed. That's exactly why the taurine blood level is our top question: it tells the team whether food is really the lever here. Risks his cardiologist watches for are fluid in the lungs and rhythm changes, which is what the sleeping-breath count catches earliest. Nothing about his daily life needs to feel different right now, and that's the goal: keep it that way.
When his kidneys were checked in 2023, Finnick's blood pressure was a calm 124. This August it read 140 to 150 at the clinic. Dr. Ponteres wondered aloud if that was just excitement (he does love his vet visits), which is exactly why she asked for relaxed readings at home.
Blood-pressure monitoring and any next steps are Dr. Ponteres's call (Rise Pet Health).
Why it matters: blood pressure touches both of Finnick's big stories. Pressure that stays high makes kidneys work harder, and it adds load to a heart that's already being watched. There's also a wrinkle worth knowing: the medicine he once took that happened to help blood pressure (telmisartan) was stopped by his vets in 2024 after a rough kidney episode, on purpose, and his kidney numbers stayed good without it. So right now nothing in his medicine cabinet is holding pressure down, which makes real home numbers genuinely important. If they run high when he's relaxed, his team has good options; if they're calm, everyone exhales. Either way, the home log answers it.
This is the comeback story. In 2023 a kidney biopsy showed Finnick's immune system was irritating his kidney filters, letting protein leak away. His albumin had dropped to 1.7, well below where it should live. Three years later that leak is essentially closed: albumin 3.2 and steady, protein loss near zero.
The diagnosis came from a kidney biopsy read by veterinary kidney specialists; the ongoing plan is Rise Pet Health's.
The full name is immune-complex glomerulonephritis. The filters were inflamed by his own immune system. The luckiest sentence in his whole record: the biopsy found almost no scarring, which meant his kidneys had room to heal, and they used it. His vets prescribed medicines that quiet the immune system, and the numbers tell the rest: urine protein went from heavy leak to trace; albumin returned to normal range by 2024 and hasn't wobbled since. His kidney values (creatinine, BUN) still run a touch above the lab's range. They have for three years, steadily, and his team knows and expects that. The quiet immune system is also why his white-cell counts run low; that's watched on every lab day, and it's one of the reasons routine bloodwork stays non-negotiable even when he looks perfect.
Finnick's gut has opinions, always has. In early 2024 his vets confirmed inflammatory bowel changes and a condition that lets the gut lose protein, which is part of why his food is so carefully chosen. Lately? Quiet, comfortable, good appetite, good energy.
His gut diagnoses came by biopsy through his internal-medicine team; food changes go through them.
The details: inflammatory bowel disease plus lymphangiectasia, a condition where the gut's tiny lymph channels leak protein. Together with the kidney story, it means Finnick has had two ways to lose protein, which makes his diet a genuine balancing act rather than a simple choice. It's also why the "should his food have grains?" question from cardiology can't be answered casually: his current rabbit-based diet was built around his gut and his history of food sensitivities. One of his gut vitamins (B12) has drifted down over two years, still in range, worth a question at the next visit. Any food redesign happens with his vet team, after the taurine test, weighing all three organs at once. That's the deliberate plan, not a delay.
Way back in 2018, five years before anything else on this page, Finnick's vets found his immune system nudging his thyroid. He's taken a small thyroid supplement twice a day ever since, and it's been smooth sailing.
Thyroid testing and dosing are Rise Pet Health's domain.
The condition is autoimmune (lymphocytic) thyroiditis, and it was actually Finnick's first autoimmune diagnosis, the opening chapter of a pattern that later touched his kidneys and gut. That pattern matters: it tells his team his immune system runs enthusiastic, which is why his medicines lean the other way. The watch item is simple: his total T4 reading has slid from 3.3 to 1.4 over 18 months on an unchanged dose. Still technically in range, but thyroid also matters to hearts, so the fuller panel (free T4, TSH) is a well-aimed, inexpensive question for an upcoming visit.
This spring, after some wobbly back legs and a reluctance to hop onto furniture, imaging found a disc in Finnick's lower back pressing where it shouldn't. The good news came in the same picture: his spinal cord itself looked healthy. He now gets twice-weekly care for it (laser, acupuncture, and friends) and his people say it's helping.
The imaging and injections are his veterinary specialists' work; rehab runs through Rancho Mobile and his integrative team.
The imaging (an MRI in May 2026) showed a disc at the lumbosacral junction (L7-S1, where the spine meets the pelvis) pressing on the bundle of nerves that runs to his back legs, along with some age-related disc wear above it. His vets treated it with targeted epidural anti-inflammatory injections, daily nerve-comfort medication as needed, and a joint-support injection series, on top of the twice-weekly rehab sessions. The encouraging part: no damage inside the spinal cord itself, and a real response to treatment. This is also the quiet explanation for a lot of little things (the hesitation to jump, the slower stairs) and why his care plan treats comfort as a first-class goal, not an afterthought.
Ask anyone who knew young Finnick: the itchies were his original nemesis. Years of allergy detective work (foods, pollens, even specific bugs) taught his people exactly how to keep him comfortable. These days his coat is calm and glossy.
Allergy history and any flare-up care belong to his primary vet team.
His allergy story runs the full decade: environmental allergies (atopy) plus a documented insect allergy, managed over the years with everything from medicated support to targeted injections. Here's the honest nuance his team keeps in mind: part of why his skin is so quiet right now is that the immune-calming medicines protecting his kidneys also calm allergies. If his vets ever ease those medicines down, the itch may ask for attention again, and there are good, modern options ready if it does. For now: quiet skin, happy dog, zero action needed.