My 100th Post


I started blogging on November 13, 2005. By the time I post this, it will be February 13. 100 posts in three months ain’t half bad, if I do say so myself. I read a blogger advice article that encouraged you to only do one post per day, and to make the blog about one topic only. Um. I don’t think I could do either of those things if I tried [except at NIP, but I don’t post nearly as often over there.]

I’m not really interested in following rules anyway. I’ll talk about pretty much anything that pops into my head, which means I’m not very consistent topic or quality-wise, but I’m having fun.

Last night I wrote about our puppy being sick. There was something wrong with her back. She’d flinch when you touched her, wouldn’t jump on anything, etc. This morning, she seemed about the same, so we put her in her kennel and left for church.

When we got back, I went to let her out. Usually, she’s sitting up scratching on the door and whining. Today she lay there on her side, wagging her tail, but clearly struggling to get up. When she finally got up, she was shivering uncontrollably, and when she walked, she held her legs really stiff and took tiny steps. Her head was down, her ears back, and her tail was between her legs. Her back was hunched up, like dogs do when they have to poop. She couldn’t sit down, and she couldn’t go up or down the stairs.

I was scared shitless.

She was so much worse than this morning. I told Steve we couldn’t wait until tomorrow, we needed to call the vet. He did, and the vet said that an emergency call was $100 plus whatever treatments they do. Well, like I said last night, I can’t take suffering. I held Sydney on my lap while Steve got the kids ready to go. She was so miserable, I couldn’t stand to see her try to sit down, only to stand up again when it hurt, shivering the whole time.

So I sat Indian style, and propped her butt on one leg, supported her chest with my arm, and cried like a baby. My oldest daughter came in and asked if she was okay, and I just bawled and said I didn’t know. I held Sydney, stroked her fur, and I prayed for her. Slowly, she stopped shaking, and by that time, Steve had the kids loaded and we went to the vet.

When we got there, the vet checked her out. He felt her back, ribs, and everything else, asked questions, checked her poop shoot for bones or something lodged in her intestines [we don’t give her any animal bones, but he said sometimes a bone can get stuck and they will hunch over like Sydney was.

We think she might have gotten hurt chasing the kids on the swingset. My oldest said that they ran into her in the big plastic swing with two seats facing each other and a foot rest [what’s that thing called?] about a week ago. Looking back, she started acting strangely several days ago, but I didn’t notice all that much. She was more affectionate, and played less, but I thought maybe she was getting over her ‘puppy stage.’

The vet said that nothing was broken, and that probably she had just hurt a muscle. So he gave her a shot of steroids and some anti-inflammatory pills to give her, and sent us home. He said she should start feeling better by tomorrow.

By the time we left for Bible Study, she was able to jump up on my daughter’s bed to watch us drive away [I decided not to keep her cooped up in the kennel, just in case the lack of motion had made her stiff earlier]. When we got back, she ran to the door to greet us, jumped up on us to lick faces and bite fingers, and was almost completely back to normal.

The cost? Well over a hundred dollars, we got her meds for pain, plus six months of heartworm pills, so probably around $150. But you know what? It was worth it. I was so scared she was going to have something so wrong with her it would cost hundreds of dollars to fix, and we just can’t afford those things. Not for a dog anyway. I was afraid we would have to put her to sleep, and that would have been unbearable.

It’s weird to be that attached to an animal again. After I had kids, I figured any pets we had would be pretty much just for them, and I would clean up after it, but not be that emotionally invested. Sheesh. Yeah right.


About Shelbi

Work-at-home wife, mom of three kids, and caregiver for my brother, who has Cerebral Palsy. Never a dull moment, in other words. No idea how much I'll post, since I'm super busy these days, but maybe I'll get over here once in a while.

2 responses »

  1. I’m so glad your puppy is ok. It’s scary when your pet is sick. My cat is 14 years old now and I’ve been to the vet with her so many times I just know she’s had her 9 lives.

    smooch for the pup.

  2. Thanks, Jaynie. I’m relieved, too [obviously!] I’m still not sure how I feel about the fact that I love her that much, but I guess it’s too late now.

    I guess in a way, it’s a relief, because after Laci died, I wondered if I would ever be able to get attached to an animal again.

    Pets do so much to enrich our lives [even though they scare the crap out of us sometimes].

    We don’t have any cats, but I always had them growing up. They never lived more than a year or two, because I wasn’t allowed to keep them inside. 14 years is a wonderfully long time to have an animal friend.

    Hopefully she has many years yet. I think I read somewhere that indoor cats can live up to 20 years or so, so maybe she has a couple of lives left!

    Thanks for stopping by!

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