30 March 2009

Three dogs, eleven legs, and one sick cat.


3 legged dog is not available for viewing.

While I was having a weekend, if by weekend you mean I was at work then I painted the new chunk of my house, all these people were in the AKC Nationals, the big festival for AKC agility people. Lots of people I know were becoming super champions. They were in some far off land, of North Carolina, I believe? Holy smokes, that is a far off land. They drove their motorhomes and flew their dogs in planes and off they went to win great big prizes like new Frigidaire refrigerators and Samsonite luggage sets and coupons for lifetime supplies of pancakes from IHOP's. That what you won you guys?

Something like that?

My weekend had it's own bling and sparkle and fun. If by fun, you like playing Pet Nurse to the small animals. Sort of like becoming a giant agility champion, except actually, nothing like that. Pet Nurse, has to figure out why outside-sorta-feral cat all of a sudden drops all it's weight, wants to either lay in ball in direct line of dog-chasing fire or come frantically running into the house to leap onto desk and meow like Satan has it's tail. Something wrong with that poor cat big time and going to have to go to the vet. Just saw it on the roof screaming at invisible monkeys, has got to be some kind of crazy sick.

And poor sweet Ruby went from ok-not-hinky to 3-legged hopper in no time flat. Been off and on doing random painscreams, then being sound enough to do a little bit of agility or run on beach, then next day not then next day yes. You saw her just yesterday, demonstrating style points as part of driveway pole fiesta. But Saturday night painscreams herself out of the blue and disappears in quivering mass of weepy under the bed, not to be seen until the next day when she only walks on 3 legs. The leg that can't touch down the right front, which is her old bad leg, not the more recent new bad leg, which was left front. So what is new is old, yet once was new.

Sort of like '80's jeans.

I am a bad dog owner. I just compared my dog to acid washed jeans with zippers in the legs.

But at least I didn't compare her to poufy hair with mile high bangs and stacks of black rubber skinny bracelets and lace bottom leggings. I would never do that.

I also didn't rush her to the emergency vet but instead shoved some rimadyl down her gullet and let her huddle like a miserable pile of sad all night. See how it goes the next day. And the next. Augh. Always the animals get sick when you do something like buy a giant glass sliding door and have to pay someone to cut a huge hole in your rotting wall and just stick it in there. Last time we really tried to figure out what EXACTLY pains Ruby, MRI's and UC Davis and such were mentioned. And I just put her on a leash and give her nice kidney busting anti inflammatory chewy treats.

I think today, we actually go visit a real doctor, instead of someone who just plays Pet Nurse on the internet.

2 comments:

Mary Schultz said...

I'm so sorry that Ruby is (temporarily) three-legged. I am such an evil person that I actually was listening to the weather report for today and, sourly, thought, "Monday is Team Small Dog's Day Off and aren't THEY lucky that they can go out in perfect Santa Cruz weather and listen to the singing of birds and ocean waves instead of being incarcerated at work, inside, in front of a computer screen all day." Not that I didn't sit voluntarily all perfect weather weekend in front of a computer screen watching AKC finals online streaming and then FBng. Well, not all weekend. Very excellent fun match at Workin Paws on Saturday. But then Jean Danver got hurt at the ASCA trial I didn't go to. And Ruby is hurt, and cat is sick, and TSD is spending the day at the vet. And Cedar is not anemic, but is sick and Michelle knows too much so is triply more paranoid than the rest of us and can't even decide to go to the vet and find out what's wrong because she IS the vet. And Tika's neck is getting old and hurts, and all I'm worried about is who will Team with me and Barbara at Haute Tracs. So, all around, I sure am a whining bitch. And it's time to get down on my knees and count my blessings while I still have the chance. (But I still don't really want to go to work today no matter how blessed I am to have a job.)

team small dog said...

Aha, but here you are wrong!

I actually have so much work on the computer piled up from all the time I spend at my job where I am out fighthing wrinkles in the perfect sunny weather all day that on my day off, I will sit incarcerated in front of the computer screen all day, except for the time we spend in various vet offices!

AND i will have someone sawing a giant hole in my wall off at the same time!

Right!

Now EVERYONE SUPER Jealous, Right?