Could this day get any worse? (Part 2)

Sometimes I worry that this blog is getting too depressing. But some people seem to like reading it, and writing it helps me. There has to be a place where it's OK to communicate about the hard stuff. I usually write these posts as events unfold, and then let them sit a few days so I can edit them before posting. This time I'm combining the events of 3 days into a single post... so it has a happy ending.

Jan. 20, 2008

Today I cried real tears for my dog. “I can’t take care of my Winston!”

This after he had diarrhea all night and all day, and me cleaning it up every few hours. With his advanced hip dysplasia, he can't move fast enough to get outside when the diarrhea hits. It’s a HUGE mess. My muscles ache. Honestly I don’t know where I found the strength. Musta been angels.

Dillon responded to my tears by fixing me lunch. A hamburger and a nap refreshed me for the next round of stinky mess. Dillon did the clean-up that night.

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1/21/08

Could this day get any worse? (Part 2)

Today was another dismal day at the vet after a hard night.

Winston’s diarrhea got worse -- and bloody, too. So last night we had to have him sleep in the bathroom, the easiest room to clean up. It’s too cold for him to sleep outside. It was lonely not having him sleep near our bed, but I did sleep better and he didn’t cry, howl or whimper. Maybe it’s a preparation for the coming separation when he dies. But it was awful to open the bathroom door to a wave of stink and find him laying in his own filth.

Dillon and I took him to the vet in the morning. The “Walkabout” harness really helped Dillon lift him into the car.

“So he has diarrhea?” the vet asked innocently as he tried to insert a rectal thermometer -- provoking what he called “projectile diarrhea.”

The problem was painfully obvious to all. The vet thought it would be a good idea to move Winston to a clean exam room, where he tried again with the thermometer -- with the same result.

“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed.

“Literally,” Dillon piped up.

“Could this day get any worse?” I asked. That phrase from a previous blog has become a favorite for me and Dillon. “It probably can,” I added.

And it did. When the vet sent us home with more medicines, we discovered that the battery on our car had died! As we waited for AAA to give us a jump start, Dillon said, “It helps me to know that this will become a funny story on your blog.”

Finally we got home and I coaxed Winston into taking most of the prescribed pills. Then at sunset he vomited it all up, undigested. I called the vet, who said to try again tomorrow.

At dinnertime Winston refused to eat -- that’s never EVER happened before. My dog has always had a huge appetite.

A friend wrote a beautiful thought to me today about dogs: “I think it is better for us to outlive them because they would mourn too much were it the opposite.” I never thought of it that way before.

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Jan. 22, 2008

Oh, happy day!

Last night I coaxed Winston into eating his antibiotic pill by putting it inside some hamburger meat -- and the diarrhea stopped.

Today he’s eating again, too.