Good news

I am busting.

Matt's urologist just called and it sounds like last summer's surgery was a success and that artificial insemination is now a distinct possibility. I don't even know what to do with myself. For the last half hour I've been randomly clapping my hands and taking spoonfuls of Death by Chocolate in celebration. Plus hugging and kissing anyone who stands still long enough. Matt is smiling and high-fiving me in response and I just can't wait to call my doctor tomorrow to say, "SET THIS SHIT UP!"

Hopefully yours,

To Excited to Sit Still

Joy

Pete is home!

Turns out he'd eaten a corncob recently (squirrels drop them in the back yard, and believe me, I'll be scanning the yard more frequently) and it got lodged at the start of his intestine. He has an incision running from his breastbone to his groin and more staples than I've had time to count, but he is home, he is healthy, and he is eating.

We took him to the MSU Veterinary Clinic on Saturday morning, and they took a detailed history and gave him a very thorough physical exam. I can't recommend them highly enough. At that point we were thinking it was ibuprofen toxicity (terrible misunderstanding with our regular vet) and at first the bloodwork and urinalysis bore that out. Everything indicated his kidneys were shot and he was in renal failure.

Then the vet called back. Corncob on the xray? His blood values had improved with the fluids they were giving him, and they'd improved again by the time the surgeon called back that evening to confirm, yes, corncob. There was a good chance that a lot of what the earlier bloodwork showed was due to dehydration, so we said please go ahead with the surgery.

And he came through very well. Corncob, out. No real damage to the intestine. Some aspiration pneumonia from vomiting while laying down, but he's on antibiotics for that and it's looking good.
Once recovered, he and I are going to have a very serious talk about one can and cannot eat from the back yard. Hint: NO CORNCOBS.

Misery

Updated: He seems more alert this morning and his eyes look clearer. He is tilting to the side a little and dragging one of his front feet, so there's something going on, but he looked better than he did. I woke up at 4:00 and googled nicotine poisoning (in case he'd eaten a cigarette butt out of the trash) and dog stroke, and neither of them fit his symptoms either. I hope the vet has an answer today and that Pete continues to improve. FAST.
**************

Petey is sick. He has vomited probably 20 times in the last day and a half, is lethargic, and hardly rolls his eyes if we walk through the room or kneel near his crate to see how he's doing. He won't accept treats, not even a lick of the ice cream the vet prescribed in addition to antibiotics. Pete has never turned up his nose to food.

He went to the vet this morning and will go back tomorrow if there isn't any improvement, but it's extremely hard to wait. I want someone to make him feel better NOW.

He is very thirsty. I let him out to do his business and he was nosedeep in a snowbank before his body was out the door. I gave him a minute and went to pick him up to bring him back inside before he ate/drank too much and he bolted away from me, licking at the snow as he ran. That's the fastest I've seen him move since yesterday. He's been lying immobile in his crate or on the rug for most of tonight.

Symptoms aren't those for dog flu or ibuprofen toxicity (vet has him on it for the arthritis) and I can't find anything to match how he's acting. The doctor said he didn't think there was an obstruction, but told us to limit his water and bring him back for an X-ray tomorrow if he's still ill.

I'm trying to give him his space, because no one wants someone stroking their snout or petting their arm if they feel nauseous. There's nothing he can tell me when I ask, "What's wrong, pumpkin? What can I do?" I have never seen him like this and it's worrying me.

Got my Valentine early

Matt and I don't tend to do much in way of presents for each other, for whatever reason. Birthdays warrant a card and a kiss and maybe dinner out or making someone's favorite, and that's fine. Because while there are moments in marriage that make you want to tear your hair out, there are also moments that feel like a gift wrapped up and topped with a glittery bow. Last night I fell asleep on the couch after watching fifteen minutes of movie, and I vaguely remember Matt trying to get me to come to bed when he was heading that way. "I'm fine, I'm good," I said. "You're going to have to let the dogs out when you wake up, then," he answered. "Mm-hmm. I'm good. I'll be there. I'm good," I said. I woke up about 6:00 this morning cram-packed on the loveseat (feels less roomy when your knees have locked) and hobbled to the bedroom. I got into bed and laid on my side, and he scooted up to me in his sleep. Just as I was drifting off again, I heard him say, "Finally." And that, my friends, is a gift.