Archive for January 13th, 2008
Bennie lost his marbles.
Well, I wouldn’t so much say “lost” as maybe……”had them surgically extracted.”
But you know what Bob Barker says….spay and neuter your pets. So we did.
I’m warning you now…..this post will get graphic. So the weak stomach and easy fainters (Kevin) should probably just stop reading here.
Okay. So we picked him up from the vet Wednesday evening….following his little…..procedure….and he was fine. Right as rain. I took him for a abbreviated walk that evening, he did his business, as usual, and we came home. Thursday, he was fine. Ate fine all day. played fine, did his business as usual.
Friday morning, he barfed (on the shag rug, why is it always on the freaking rug??). If you have a dog, you know….hey, barf happens sometimes. Usually for no reason. No biggie. I stuck him in the kitchen and Celia and I proceeded to have one of the greatest shopping experiences of the whole year.
We came home around one to find that Bennie had pretty much EXPLODED in the kitchen. Oh, it was bad! Celia retreated upstairs. I put Bennie (poor dog) still wretching and squatting out on the porch, cleaned and called the vet. I got us a late afternoon appointment and all afternoon, my poor dog was violently sick. One he started expelling blood, I was really afraid he was going to die.
Chris came home (on his way out of town) to watch the kids and a get the poor pup to the vet. The diagnosis? Stress. He’s stressed out. I guess he finally noticed that someone took his…ah…goodies away and totally flipped out. “Senstive” breeds can sometimes make themselves poo blood when they are stressed.
Really? I so did not know that.
So he got a shot of something called Reglen, some Pepsid. I got a pile of drugs to load him up with over the next week, I paid the vet a hundred freaking more dollars, and we were on our way.
Unfortunately, none of that took effect right away. My doggie was still very sick, Celia hadn’t had a nap, and Chris was leaving for Charleston.
Oh, and since I’d had Bennie in the kitchen (ie, highway to the litterbox) and focusing on him all day, I was totally unaware that a cat had pooped in the dining room (Okay, stop a minute. I know you are thinking my house is a filthy hovel. It’s not, okay. These things never happen. But when they do, they just seem to happen all at once. I’m just as disgusted as you are, promise)
Celia was the one to find the poo, by stepping in it….milliseconds before Kevin (Chris’s co-worker) walks through the front door. So Kevin is standing in the living room, just staring at the piles of disaster (shopping bags that got dropped where they were when I found sick doggie, 1001 brand new socks that Celia had removed from shopping bags to assemble a ‘project’ in the hallway) Celia is hobbling around with poo on her foot, Bennie is wretching in the kitchen, and the pizza guy comes to the door.
It’s really one of those moments where the sane woman in your head looks around, starts screaming and crying saying “How did I end up here?!?!?”
Luckily, the crazy woman on the outside is still in control. So (after pulling Kevin aside and explaining that I’m a good freaking wife, mother, and pet owner…and did you SEE that beautiful floor in the bedroom? I did all that myself not to mention that 36 hours ago this house was freaking spotless!) Chris left for Charleston, the kids watched a movie and scarfed down some pizza, and I took up my vigil over the dog.
He finally stopped getting sick, and about 9 I started squirting some gatorade water down his throat. He wouldn’t move. Just would gaze up at me with those big brown eye as is to say “I’m sorry I did all that on your floor. Please stop making me drink this stuff”.
I went to bed at 2. And somehow, he was fine Saturday morning. Absolutely fine. I don’t get it.
I then had the pleasure of attending a child’s birthday party. Halfway through the party I was helping clean up some wrapping paper and the carpet beneath my knees seemed a little….damp. I asked the grandma if there should be a wet spot on the carpet. Her response, “Ew. Don’t touch it. That’s where A threw up earlier”
GROSS! I was kneeling in the puke spot!!! Shouldn’t you warn a person about that kind of thing???
At least it’s not just my house………..
