She's better. She's home. And she's literally worth her weight in platinum now.
If you've read my blogs or know me, you know my dog Katie. She's my one constant, often my reason for getting up in the mornings. The cats will take exception to this but they take exception to most things, especially relating to the dog. You rarely see me, anywhere, without her.
She took sick last week. At first she just seemed to have lost her energy (and that's not easy to tell). Then she didn't want to eat. "Ride in the Car?" or "Wanta go for a walk?" got no response. Saturday afternoon she took a turn for the worse. I'd taken her temp' that morning and it was 101, no big deal. By afternoon it was up to 104.5 and she had blood in her stool. Time for a drive down the mountain to the ER Vet. My friend, Jackie, came over and down we went. This little dog who loves to sit in the center of the front seats laid in the back and slept.
This is my best friend, my child, my constant companion. I can't begin to imagine a day without her. She's been there for me through all my traumas and adventures and just sitting and watching the sunset or my idea of a good TV show.
We arrived at the ER and a doctor saw her immediately and, as doctors are prone to do, gave me worst case and best case scenarios. But he was filled with confidence just from looking at her that she was going to be just fine. He's a local boy, from Ahwahnee; specializes in emergency veterinary medicine. Must have a handle on it, right? Then he said, "We'll just take her in the back, run some labs, get an IV going and I'll call you in a hour or so. You can probably pick her up tomorrow (Sunday) or Monday." Whoa, back up. Leave her? You want me to leave her? Well, thanks to Jackie, who knew the questions to ask that I'd forgotten and who'd brought some common sense with her and not just emotions, Katie went to the back and I came home.
Apparently she'd ingested something that irritated her upper intestine creating an irritation (like an ulcer in you and me,) which developed a bacterial infection that worked its way down, and went from bad to worse. Saturday night she didn't much care what was going on, but by Sunday morning she was re-hydrated, the antibiotics were kicking butt and she was taking soft food. This morning I drove down and she was doing do-nuts (wheelies) again. She's on a diet that she thinks is the best ever and is in for a rude awakening toward the end of the week when she starts transitioning back to "dog food". She's on a weird combo of meds for at least a week. But she's home. She'll sleep on the bed with me again tonight ... and maybe I'll get some sleep.
I'm not ready for her to go hang with Dad. She has a lot to care for yet down here, mainly me. And she's still a youngster, she's only 9 years old, young for a cocker/pom mix.
To those who sent their thoughts and comments and to those who worked to keep me from unraveling, thank you! And, dear Lord, for not calling that angel back yet, only you know how grateful I am!
No comments:
Post a Comment