Thursday, January 04, 2007

Poor Dog

Our dog is sick. He's got Kennel Cough. It came on suddenly yesterday morning, and at first I thought he was retching, not coughing, so he spent alot of time outside, as Ethan put it, "pookin' onna back pitch."*

I actually spent quite a bit of time joking that he had a form of doggie Couvade's Syndrome (typically where the husband of a pregnant woman feels sick and gains weight right along with her), with all the gagging and retching. Now I feel a little guilty for teasing him.

Finally last night we figured out what was wrong, and the poor dog coughed all night and all morning, hacking phlegm all over the carpet until we corralled him in the bathroom, where he hacked all over his blanket and the floor (but at least it was tile). And let me tell you, if there's one thing a queasy pregnant woman loves, it's wiping up phlegm. **

We fanagled an appointment at the vet this morning at 10, and bless the vets for working us in on short notice.

Buddy was so nervous it took four tries just to get his temperature. The nurse thought the thermometer was broken, because of the readings it was giving her, so she got another thermometer, and nope. It was Buddy's own fault.

In the meantime, Ethan pulled a doorstop off the wall and then he crawled into the storage compartment under Aidan's stroller and got stuck. It seemed to me like maybe that was the best place for him, but then he started crying, so I had to pull him out.

The nurse finally came back and said she had one vet in surgery and the other scrambling to work in the small animals in between taking care of the horses and the cows (why yes, we are rural), and she asked if I'd like to leave him and they could call me when he was ready. At that point Aidan was losing his cool being strapped into the stroller, so it sounded like a brilliant plan.

So that's what we did.

Seven hours and $105 later, Buddy was home safe and sound, but still hacking. Figuring it was time for a cough tablet, I thought I'd be slick and encase it in a piece of mozzarella. Buddy was even slicker, though, and ate the cheese from around it and spit out the pill. So I had to get down on the floor and literally wrestle that stupid pill down his throat.

My husband to the rescue! I IMed him, begging him for cheez whiz, which I'd heard was a fool-proof way to medicate a dog (never mind what I think of a dog that prefers cheez whiz to good ol' mozzarella. hmph.). He also brought two pizzas, a gigantic bag of salad, grape tomatoes, a big bag of chips, and my favorite organic salsa (Muir Glen - amazing, phemonenal stuff).

Buddy swallowed the cheez whiz/amoxicillan canape in one gulp, and never even knew we were being sneaky with him.

So all's well that ends well, and now if you'll excuse me I have chips and organic salsa calling my name. Plus tonight is Office and ER night, and we can't miss that.


*That's "puking on the back porch" for those of you not familiar with Ethanese.
** That was sarcasm, for those of you not familiar with Mommyese.

2 comments:

Jamie said...

Dogs like Cheese Whiz????

mommy said...

I know! Weird, huh?