I don't know if he had puppies
or what, but Scooder lost fifteen pounds. I can't remember if I blogged about this, but we thought we were going to lose Scooder shortly after we moved here. He had some sort of a decline, started packing on weight, became extremely lethargic, and I was convinced he wasn't going to the bathroom. At one point he stopped eating and drinking and laid down on the couch for what I thought was the end. I sat with him, counting respirations and checking for a pulse. (What can I say, I'm a CNA at heart. HAhahahaha)
We took him to the vet the next day where they x-rayed him, pumped him full of fluids, and sent him home with a ridiculous bill. He stayed fat for a while and acted like he was decrepit every time he crept up into his pet bed, which is essentially an over sized pillow. I worried until we took him on a walk off the leash the first time and he ran around like a puppy. He skipped hither and fro with his tail up marking every inch of the mile.
Since he wasn't eating any more than usual and still hanging on to the weight, I was sure he had cancer. Being the sensitive mother that I am, I tried to forewarn Kennedy, who would have taken the hardest hit if he did die. When I explained my reasoning, she weighed him and put him on a diet, which is how we know that in the weeks following he managed to lose fifteen pounds.
The other night I noticed that his stomach was no longer bloated, but rather hanging loosely. I told her I thought he looked better so she stuck him on the scale. It's just amazing to me how different he looks. He's a little dog, you know? I mean, fifteen pounds on me isn't incredibly remarkable, but it makes a difference. So on a little dog... it's just bizarre-o. Such is life.
We took him to the vet the next day where they x-rayed him, pumped him full of fluids, and sent him home with a ridiculous bill. He stayed fat for a while and acted like he was decrepit every time he crept up into his pet bed, which is essentially an over sized pillow. I worried until we took him on a walk off the leash the first time and he ran around like a puppy. He skipped hither and fro with his tail up marking every inch of the mile.
Since he wasn't eating any more than usual and still hanging on to the weight, I was sure he had cancer. Being the sensitive mother that I am, I tried to forewarn Kennedy, who would have taken the hardest hit if he did die. When I explained my reasoning, she weighed him and put him on a diet, which is how we know that in the weeks following he managed to lose fifteen pounds.
The other night I noticed that his stomach was no longer bloated, but rather hanging loosely. I told her I thought he looked better so she stuck him on the scale. It's just amazing to me how different he looks. He's a little dog, you know? I mean, fifteen pounds on me isn't incredibly remarkable, but it makes a difference. So on a little dog... it's just bizarre-o. Such is life.
I just about had a coronary thinking that you had a house full of puppies --after I read your blog entry title. Good thing I kept reading!!
ReplyDeleteI don't know why pets are so weird that way.
ReplyDeleteWe got our first furry pet this year, a kitten, and when she was just a few months old, she started lying around howling like she was in pain and dragging her back legs behind her. I knew her spine was ok, because sometimes she would run, but I thought something was really wrong, and since I'm not an animal lover anyway, I was struggling with loving her and putting any money into her recovery.
We took her to the vet and the doctor came out laughing.
She was in heat, that's all.
What do I know?
Good for Scooder! Good for Kennedy! Good for the CNA's of the world!
ReplyDeleteI'm not getting on the scale--I'm afraid that I found Scooder's missing weight!
Can Kennedy come to my house and help put me on a diet? Fifteen pounds won't do much for me, but if she could get a similar ratio for me as she did Scooder, I think I'd be a very happy woman!
ReplyDelete