Blanch, our recently adopted 8 year old dog didn't want breakfast this morning. That was odd. She spent the morning sleeping, the afternoon having diarrhea and vomiting. By the time I got home from work she was pretty droopy and drooly and my husband, who works from home and wasn't crazy about getting a dog in the first place, wasn't really happy. I found an emergency vet hospital online, made a phone call and off we went.
There are a few significant things to note here. My husband, Blanch's daddy, was very concerned about Blanch. He wasn't just upset that she had disrupted his day and made messes everywhere, which he dutifully cleaned up. He held her in his lap on the way to the ER, petting her all the way. Blanch sat on the cold, stainless steel table and held on tight to him with her gaze. I may have brought her home from the shelter, but she is his girl.
The vet and staff were very nice. They got that we'd only had her a couple of weeks and knew precious little about her. They got that we were nervous parents. I found out a few bits of information that I wouldn't have otherwise known. Blanch isn't an all American mutt. She is a Shitsu. So that's why she doesn't shed, eh?
And she isn't spayed. The vet showed us that her nipple was leaking some milk and my husband and I began leaking perspiration.
Some blood tests, a shot and some pills later, we found out Blanch has some gastroenteritis (who knows how) and a false pregnancy! A false pregnancy?!! Give me a break. Well it does explain some of her recent behavior involving Mr. Pinky, a toy of hers. So much for the shelter that stated all their dogs a neutered or spayed, blah, blah.
Not that it would have mattered. It was all over the first time I held her. But dang, I'm glad we aren't getting puppies. Well, they would be sweet. And definitely cute. And Blanch would be a good mommy, I'm sure. But, whew! What a relief. I guess for Christmas she'll be getting a hysterectomy.
What a relief that we aren't going to have a litter of granddogs. What a relief that Blanch isn't deathly ill. What a relief that there's a vet ER nearby. But most of all, what a relief that Blanch's daddy is such a good daddy.
Aw glad she's ok.
ReplyDeleteOoohh...I am glad that she's ok too! Scary to see a sweet little babe ill. Sounds like you parents just had your hearts expand even more! :)
ReplyDeleteIt's so hard when the love of your life--in this case, Blanch--gets sick. I'm happy to hear she's OK.
ReplyDeleteNow for a story.
When we moved from Colorado to Arizona in early 1997, our Pekingnese was six-months-old--not much more than a handful of fur with eyes. Or a tribble with eyes.
She was acting strange in our new digs and we thought it was stress from the move. We found a vet (whom we still use), and she told us our tiny daughter was "in season."
"You're kidding, aren't you," I said. "She's just a baby puppy! She's no more prepared to be a mother than I am!"
It was, however, true. After she was "out of season" she had her operation--which we had planned on all along.
A bit of social commentary: nowadays we talk about babies having babies, but we're referring to humans in their tweens and young teens.
I didn't know that dogs don't get The Pause. I figured since she's my age in dog years we were both well beyond all that stuff. Silly me!
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