4:30 a.m. (look, getting it right more often): Are you up? I’m up. Everybody say haaaay-ooo for withdrawal insomnia.
The things your mind comes up with when you are tired, right?
The cats are up. Mostly, because I’m up, and they do what I do. I’m sort of their ringleader. Okay, I lie. I’m their bitch; but, they follow me around a lot because I have the treats and the soft touch with the wet food.
We’re missing an animal here this early morning. So, I'm going to talk about my dog, for a rambling bit. M'kay?
She’s in the doggie hospital, and we don’t know when she’s coming home. We’re pretty worried about the stupid oaf. We love her. I mentioned before that she had been clamoring to go outside more and more often, and I feel so guilty about being annoyed with her about it now because she didn’t feel well. At least now we don't have to think about giving her up, not for one second. She's happy here, she just didn't feel well. In the back of my mind, I’d wondered if that was why she was doing it. But, it’d coincided with Bryon traveling more, and that’s something she does when he travels, so I chalked it up to that.
About a week ago, when she wasn’t just skipping meals when he was gone, but also when he was home, I started floating the idea that maybe we should take her to the vet. I got more insistent when she stopped sleeping in her bed, and when she had an accident in the house for the first time, ever in her life. Okay, she had another one when she was a puppy, but that one doesn’t count, and we’ve not spoken of the river of diarrhea (that’s the world’s hardest word to spell) since, as it was a family pact that night, never to speak of it again. The lake of shit, we called it.
Still, it seemed like, maybe it was a bunch of random, unrelated behaviors, not just one thing that screamed, “I’m a sick lil’ doggie!” And, otherwise she seemed okay. She slept on the couch. She wagged her tail. She got excited when we came home. She was so frustratingly normal in most regards, that it was hard to pull the trigger on the whole, “let’s take her in,” decision.
I know this video has NOTHING to do with what I'm talking about...but it's crazy cool. Collin had been messing with the phone, when it was new, and learned about the SloMo feature. Look how huge she looks! Well, that's how huge she is, but it looks cool.
Anyway, boy am I glad we took her in. The vet said, “this is one sick dog.” Why is it that no matter how you phrase that, it sounds like you are being sarcastic; using weird, but lame street lingo; or, trying to be covertly, and cheesily sexual about something else? One of her liver enzyme levels was so high that it couldn’t be accurately measured by his equipment. For real. Good God, Daphne. And, others were all in the ghastly range. In other words, she’s jaundiced. He’s got her on antibiotics; but, it’s anyone’s guess why and how this happened.
He said that it could be a slowly developing allergy to her insanely expensive, high-quality diet. Thanks for that, Daphne. It would be nice of you to develop an allergy to the food that we special-order for you, and have delivered to the house. No biggie, we’ll just start you on a prescription diet. I’m serious, of course. We would, but come on. Dog, stop it. Right now. She’s well trained. She might listen, even though I sound harsh right now. Right? Hope lies in strange places. This is the most likely culprit, but seems unusual, even to the vet.
Or, it could be a parasite, which she could’ve picked up at the emergency vet, or even their office, when she had her cyst removed in September; but that’s unlikely. Parasites come, usually, through fecal contact. Our vet is pretty sanitary, so she’d have had to have licked up something pretty icky, after something else pretty icky, that wasn’t cleaned up properly. Yummy, parasitic poop trail. Stranger things have happened. But, doctor’s offices are clean. However, animals poop everywhere, and you can’t catch everything.
And finally, it could be because her gallbladder isn’t working properly, causing the bile sludge to back up the whole system. If that’s the problem, we are in a hurry up scenario, especially with her, because her gallbladder would be pretty large, and if it bursts, she’ll die. He said that if her gallbladder walls are weak, and filled with sludge or stones, it could burst at any time, so we have to find out, and now. So, he is in contact with the traveling ultrasound vet, arranging to have her ultrasounded (Word believes that not to be a word, oh well) today, to see if it needs to be removed.
I have to pause here to reveal a secret about writing these things: I usually write for ten minutes, then screw around for 10-20 minutes, then write ten more. Or, some other “work/life” balance that sounds more important, like write, then meal-prep. Today, I’ve written ten minutes, then messed around for, like 45 minutes. I think, I don’t want to think about my dog being sick. Obviously. She went for a ride in the car with us, which she loves, because it’s endless possibilities for her, and then got left at the scary vet, when she feels terrible. I feel rotten.
I love animals. I try so hard to take good care of mine, to listen to the way they talk to me. I watch their body language, to make sure that I’m not bothering them, but doing things the way they want me to, when playing with, or petting them. I work hard to get them good food, toys and treats. I want their lives to be comfortable and happy, and I failed my girl here. Now, she’s sick, scared and alone. I just want her better, and home with us, so I can spend the rest of her life making up for it.
With a dog, I can flop all over her and spoil her with petting, love and attention, thankfully. Had this been Homer, the only way I could make it up to him would be to leave him alone, and let him retreat to the comfort of his study, away from all people. Dogs have a way of letting you love on them, the way you want to, tolerating all of your nonsense, and eating it up like melting ice cream. Cats, not so much. As a relatively cold, not all that affectionate, person myself, I think I relate more to the cats, but appreciate the need for a dog in the great balance of the universe, as I have been over-petting the cats, at this moment of dog-despair.
Okay...we were missing one animal from the cozy napping above; although Daphne understands that Frodo is a friend, not food, the cats, not so much. They will play with Frodo, if he's in his ball, which Frodo seems to delight in, fleeing and then charging them with impunity. But, outside of his ball, that's another story. Homer seems too old to bother caring, bot Loki has made it his life's mission to find, destroy and then eat that hamster.