I’m Kayla, and I’m a dog mom with a bad back. So yeah, I’m that person. I use a foam roller, and now my dog does, too—well, sort of.
Why I Went Looking
One night, I typed “dog chiropractor near me.” I felt silly. Then I booked it.
Side note: My human friends say that trawling the web for canine care still beats their late-night hunts for a no-strings-attached hookup—what French speakers cheekily call a “plan Q.” If you’ve ever been curious about how those spontaneous meet-ups work, this overview of the plan Q concept breaks down the etiquette, the dos and don’ts, and how to stay safe while having a bit of adult fun. If you happen to be in North Texas and want something a little more local than a broad “plan Q,” the community spotlighted at Addison Swingers offers location-specific event listings, venue reviews, and clear etiquette tips so newcomers can explore safely and confidently.
My Lab mix, Cooper, is 8. Big smile. Bigger zoomies. Last spring he started to limp after long walks. Stairs got slow. He’d pause at the bottom and sigh. The vet ruled out a torn ligament. We tried rest and meds. It helped, but the limp came back.
The Place Down The Street
I found a certified animal chiropractor in my part of Portland. Small office. Warm light. There was a jar of liver treats on the counter. Cooper spotted it first, of course.
The doc, Dr. Liz, asked a lot of questions. How long has he limped? Does he bunny hop? How’s his poop? (Pet folks get it.) She watched him walk in a straight line. Then in a little circle. She pressed along his spine and hips. Cooper licked her face. Classic.
The First Visit: Gentle, Not Scary
I thought I’d hear loud cracks. You know what? I didn’t. It was slow and light. She used her hands, and a small clicker tool on his mid-back. He yawned, then did that full-body shake dogs do after a bath. The doc smiled and said, “That’s a good sign.”
We did a few hip stretches. Cookie stretches, too—nose to shoulder, nose to hip. He loved that part because, well, cookies.
She told me: water, a short walk, no fetch for 48 hours. I nodded. Then went home and hid his squeaky ball like a thief.
Did It Help?
Not a miracle. But also… kind of great. Here’s what I noticed:
- Day 1: He napped hard. Less pacing. No whining when he stood up.
- Day 2: Limp still there, but softer. He took the stairs with less drama.
- Week 1: His stride got longer. He did a happy trot to the door when I said “walk.”
- Week 3: He jumped into the car again without the little “oof” sound. That felt huge.
We did four visits over five weeks. The plan was simple: adjust, reassess, add home work. Think warm-ups for an old athlete. Which he is, in his mind.
Cost, Time, and Little Surprises
- First exam and adjustment: $95
- Follow-ups: $70 each
- Session length: 30–40 minutes
- Wait time: 10–20 minutes (one time we waited longer; a nervous corgi needed extra love)
Not covered by my pet insurance. That part stung. After reading an honest take on a community vet clinic, I keep that option in my back pocket for future budget crunches.
A small surprise: I heard a tiny pop once, but it was later at home when he stretched on the rug. He looked at me like, “Did you hear that?” Then he fell asleep, belly up.
The Good Stuff vs. The Meh Stuff
The good:
- Cooper moved smoother. Less limping after long walks.
- He slept better. So I slept better.
- Dr. Liz showed me simple moves I could do at home. No gear needed. Well, a few treats.
The meh:
- It’s not a quick fix. We still do joint checks and short rest days.
- One visit felt rushed. The clinic was slammed. I spoke up the next time, and it was better.
- Not cheap. And again, not covered for us.
Safety Notes I Liked Hearing
This part mattered most to me. Dr. Liz wanted a vet note first. Regular preventive check-ins—like the ones covered in pet wellness exams—already taught me how valuable baseline info can be, so her caution made sense.
She checked for pain, reflexes, and nerve signs. If Cooper had sudden back pain, dragging paws, or fever, she said we’d stop and go back to the vet. No hero moves. That made me trust her.
She also had AVCA training posted on the wall. I looked it up before I went. I’m that person, remember? If you want to double-check credentials, you can browse the official AVCA “find a doctor” tool here.
Tiny Home Things That Helped
- Warm-up: 3 minutes of slow leash walking before play.
- Cookie stretches: nose to shoulder, nose to hip, a few reps each side.
- Figure 8s around two cones (I used a laundry basket and a plant).
- A bath mat on the tile for traction near the stairs.
- A wobble cushion later on, for core work. Cooper stood on it like a surfer and looked proud.
Side note: A dab of peanut butter on the fridge door kept him steady during stretches. Messy. Worth it.
A Quick Story About My Neighbor’s Dog
My neighbor’s dachshund, Nina, had a cranky back last year. She did vet care, pain meds, then added chiro and canine PT. The chiro and the PT talked to each other. They set limits. No stairs, short potty breaks, slow gains. It took time, but Nina stopped flinching when picked up. She does tiny safe zooms now. It made me feel less alone.
How I’d Pick a Good “Near Me” Choice
- Ask your vet for a name, and ask why they trust them.
- Look for animal-specific training on the wall. AVCA or similar (like the IVCA).
- First visit should be more talking and testing than adjusting.
- They should welcome questions. Even the weird ones. I had many.
- They should say “no” if something’s not right for your dog that day.
You can also browse the directory at Pet Care Services to see qualified practitioners in your area.
If a clinic promises a cure, I’d pass. Relief is real, but a cure is big talk.
Would I Go Again?
Yes. For Cooper, it helped. He moves easier. He smiles more. I feel less worry when we hit the trail. We do tune-ups every 6–8 weeks now, plus the home work. If he has a bad flare, we pause and call our vet first. That’s our rule.
So, if you’re typing “dog chiropractor near me” at midnight with a soft panic in your chest, hey, I’ve been there. Ask your vet. Meet the doc. Start slow. Watch your dog. They’ll tell you a lot, if you look.
And bring the good treats. Always bring the good treats.
—Kayla Sox