Tag Archives: vet

Dog days…

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After a ridiculous amount of time in and out of the vet’s office, tests, retests, and the some more tests, the results are somewhat less conclusive than I would have hoped. The bottom line is this: Despite higher than normal protein levels in her urine, there doesn’t appear to be anything physically wrong with Maggie. She’s behaving normally and has no ill effects in terms of kidney, liver, or heart function. The phrase the vet used this morning was that it seemed likely that Maggie just has “an unusually high baseline on these tests.” I’m pretty sure that’s veterinary medicine’s way of saying the numbers aren’t right, but we have no idea why, but I let the nice vet off the hook without asking too many questions. As long as my pup is in good health and not from something causing long term damage, I’m content to leave well enough alone.

For now, I’m going to do some tinkering what her food and retry all these tests in six months to see if anything has changed. It’s not exactly the clean bill of health I usually look for from the vet, but at this point, but it seems like as good a negotiated settlement as I’m likely to get this time around. I’m mostly just pleased that we were able to rule out most of the worst case scenarios. Even so, this last week has been a bothersome reminder that I’m the single parent to two middle-aged children now. Neither one of them are pups anymore, regardless of how I still think of them in my own head. I’m not sure I like that at all.

One sick pup…

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I’ve said it before, but this seems like the perfect opportunity to reiterate that I love both my dogs beyond any sense of reason or logic. That’s the only reason I can think of that would have had me at the emergency vet at 1:00 in the morning on a Sunday with a Bulldog that wouldn’t stop throwing up even when there were no cookies left to hurl. I’m not a fancy big city vet, but I do know that no well animal blows chunks nine times in three hours. I’m enough of a diagnostician to know that gums are supposed to be pink and not gray. And of course being paranoid as I am, that let to an early morning visit to the closest emergency vet clinic. I’ll say up front that I’m glad they were open and I didn’t have to wait until Monday to have him seen by someone.

The good news is that after a metric crapload of scans, samples, and IV meds, my boy seems to be holding his own and I should be able to bring him home tonight. The down side, of course, is that the estimated bill for treatment and an overnight stay is somewhere in the neighborhood of $1500. Seriously. $1500. If that’s what it costs to fix him up, fine, but in the back of my head I can’t quite shake the thought that I’ve just spent 3/4 the cost of a new bulldog… or put another way, as much as it would have cost to adopt ten dogs from the pound. You can’t exactly put a price on the love and loyalty of a good dog, but we’re definitely getting into the neighborhood where one might start having second thoughts.

So yeah, consider this official notice that Christmas is cancelled this year. Gift money has been sent directly to VCA Animal Hospital. I won’t feel nearly as bad about dropping the cash when he’s back here snoring in the living room, but at the moment it’s feeling like a kick in the gut. In case anyone is wondering, when the vet called with an update at 9:00 this morning, the diagnosis was “yeah, we think he ate something that disagreed with his system.” I’m glad it wasn’t the intestinal blockage I was worried about, but still that’s a damned pricy upset stomach. Better safe than sorry. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Eunuch…

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Winston had his big visit with the vet today and after talking to someone from their office a few minutes ago, it looks like the procedure went well and he came out of anesthesia nicely; always a concern for our stubby-nosed little friends. They want to keep an eye on him for another couple of hours, but I can bring him home after 4:00. The doc assured me that he’s getting lots of love and attention from the staff there. The interns seem to have taken to him, so I suppose he’s in good hands. Now I just have to worry about having him home in my paranoid incompetent ones.

One sick puppy…

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Winston has been having a bad 24 hours. He woke up yesterday and seemed fine until I took him outside for my first cup of coffee and his morning constitutional. Yeah, that’s when my little fuzzy buddy became my own personal poop cannon. Not to be too graphic at this early hour, but he was getting some distance on that stuff. Repeat that every three hours or so through the early evening and you end up with one very obsessive Jeff… So, off we go to the open-all-weekend vet that my regular doc recommends. The official diagnosis was “We dunno – Sometimes it just happens.”

With my slight tendencies towards being a control freak and near-terminal need to resolve problems, this was not a terribly satisfying answer. On the up side, they gave my boy a shot of some kind and some pills that are supposed to help get the little fella’s stomach straightened out. So far this morning he seems to be doing pretty well… a little food, a little cottage cheese, and no explosive diarrhea. Fortunately I was already going to be home most of the day today, so we’ll see how it goes.

Good Report…

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I’m happy to say that Winston came home from the vet this evening with a fabulous report. Everything sounds and looks good, which is a relief, particularly as my good friend April points out, bulldogs are notoriously prone to a number of respiratory and joint problems. Hopefully his (and my) good luck will hold. The vet wore him out and midnight bathroom breaks are wearing me out! It’s soooo time for a nap!