While I am not exactly a fan of the vet (yes, I am the dog who needs to be muzzled just for the vet to get a feel anywhere on my entire body because DON’T TOUCH ME DAMNIT) I have been spending a good amount of time (and mama’s money) with the fine folks at the Penn Vet emergency room.
Some weird thing has happened twice now where I just kind of stop, sit, and stare. The last time the thought it might be neurological (checked out just fine), orthopedic (checked out just fine – but damn, do those orthopedic doctors give you a workout), and last night, they thought it might be food bloat. So I spent the night there watching them watch me. I got fluids and lots of attention, but ultimately also didn’t get a diagnosis. It’s very frustrating for mama who of course wants an answer as to what’s going on, and who has a sneaky suspicion that these episodes may be caused by my errant “street eating” which she tries to thwart at every opportunity. I of course have the advantage in that my face is much closer to the ground and all of the yumminess and she’s too damn tall and it’s hard to bend that far that fast. To her credit she’s gotten better at distracting me, but both of these “events” happened within a day of my snatching something probably extra disgusting, so with no better theory, that’s what she’s going with.
Anyone else have these kind of episodes? It has been pointed out to me (and not that delicately, by the way) that I am a tad overweight and could lose a couple (and we are now doing the mama-and-me-lets-eat-less-crap-on-a-daily-basis-and-go-on-longer-walks regimen), but otherwise all of my tests always come back big, honkin’ healthy. Especially for a dog who had a big chunk of tumor, my spleen, and damnit my balls removed last year.
Slowly feeling better today after a kind of restless night (mama was thrilled at my every-30 minute request to go outside, but damn all of those fluids they gave me had to go somewhere!) and had a good walkie. That’s a good sign for me.
Love,
Bogart
