Dawning of Delilah
It’s 7:30, after coming home at 4:30 to remembering that doggie med emergencies are no faster than for humans.
/walk in the house.
“This one is bad.”
“What one, huh?”
Points at Delilah.
“What did she do?”
“She’s at her ears, I want you to look.” he says and runs away to peek around a corner.
“Ok.”
I grapple the animal and one ear has it’s usual amount of doggie grit, the other ear made me take a step back and try to control a little composure for the husband who was waiting – at a distance – very eager for a report. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him what I’d seen and bit into my hand to swell back tears.
“Well???? It’s your call, do we take her in?”
“Get the keys.” I said.
I still won’t exactly say what I saw, but Mr. Morgan got the idea when even the vet recoiled and said… “Uh… ok, um… wow.” and ordered up slides to microscope the issue.
Her ear has something coming out of it that I don’t identify yet I know it’s part of her, and we sat nervous parents for a long while, Simon in tow. Once in, her ear was bleeding and carrying on that the proper choice I’d made to take her immediately was the right one. I also made the call to stop at a veterinarian office that she damn near died at many years ago, but they’d saved her life, so pulled over there instead of the vet hospital we normally take the kids to.
The doctor was extremely nice, one of those sorts you grin at because it’s obvious he actually enjoys his job and wants to make my girl healthy without filling a pocket full of paycheck. That would be for the front clerks to help me with. It's refreshing to find someone happy in their job and while I want to stab that enthusiasm in the eye socket with a pencil, he was treating my very heart of tail waggyness.
We are on watch. She has two days on some shit strong enough that football players would likely bargain for behind bleachers, plus antibiotics.
Oh and the cone.
My … dog… is … on … the… cone.
It had to come to the cone? Watching a dog try to maneuver in one of these monstrosities…. I admit to laughing. Everywhere we hear the slapping of plastic shame.
I saved yelling at her running tab that now is reaching 3k total for a lifetime goal, just because she looks like this.
Girl has traded all dignity for the sake of getting better. I wonder if one of these would work to control me from myself as well. We hate to make her wear it but she's exceptionally chill in it, just doesn't grasp it's perimeters. I have to leave my girl in this tomorrow morning, convinced she'll choke. Don't even say it Prada.... this is NOT Zoie. Coning a dog is very different than coning a cockatiel.
It was a fuck of an evening, plus a Monday. I keep hearing Mr. Morgan saying "Stop licking your cone" and I cant help but burst into giggles out of exhaustion. We did have to have the cone licker didn't we?
Gasping to bed.
-DM
/walk in the house.
“This one is bad.”
“What one, huh?”
Points at Delilah.
“What did she do?”
“She’s at her ears, I want you to look.” he says and runs away to peek around a corner.
“Ok.”
I grapple the animal and one ear has it’s usual amount of doggie grit, the other ear made me take a step back and try to control a little composure for the husband who was waiting – at a distance – very eager for a report. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him what I’d seen and bit into my hand to swell back tears.
“Well???? It’s your call, do we take her in?”
“Get the keys.” I said.
I still won’t exactly say what I saw, but Mr. Morgan got the idea when even the vet recoiled and said… “Uh… ok, um… wow.” and ordered up slides to microscope the issue.
Her ear has something coming out of it that I don’t identify yet I know it’s part of her, and we sat nervous parents for a long while, Simon in tow. Once in, her ear was bleeding and carrying on that the proper choice I’d made to take her immediately was the right one. I also made the call to stop at a veterinarian office that she damn near died at many years ago, but they’d saved her life, so pulled over there instead of the vet hospital we normally take the kids to.
The doctor was extremely nice, one of those sorts you grin at because it’s obvious he actually enjoys his job and wants to make my girl healthy without filling a pocket full of paycheck. That would be for the front clerks to help me with. It's refreshing to find someone happy in their job and while I want to stab that enthusiasm in the eye socket with a pencil, he was treating my very heart of tail waggyness.
We are on watch. She has two days on some shit strong enough that football players would likely bargain for behind bleachers, plus antibiotics.
Oh and the cone.
My … dog… is … on … the… cone.
It had to come to the cone? Watching a dog try to maneuver in one of these monstrosities…. I admit to laughing. Everywhere we hear the slapping of plastic shame.
I saved yelling at her running tab that now is reaching 3k total for a lifetime goal, just because she looks like this.
Girl has traded all dignity for the sake of getting better. I wonder if one of these would work to control me from myself as well. We hate to make her wear it but she's exceptionally chill in it, just doesn't grasp it's perimeters. I have to leave my girl in this tomorrow morning, convinced she'll choke. Don't even say it Prada.... this is NOT Zoie. Coning a dog is very different than coning a cockatiel.It was a fuck of an evening, plus a Monday. I keep hearing Mr. Morgan saying "Stop licking your cone" and I cant help but burst into giggles out of exhaustion. We did have to have the cone licker didn't we?
Gasping to bed.
-DM
posted by DMorgan's Zoo at
7:13 PM
2 Comments:
Poor baby. I hope she's better very soon.
I'm checking on her at lunch. It was bleeding like the third day of menstruation this morning (if memory serves what that is like) and it concerned me very very much. Frankly I'm pretty scared to find something bad, but I'm heading home anyway for a check in and treats. Dee appreciates your caring, she's a good girl, just has her mama's nervous ways of destroying herself, Odd for a larger dog no? -DM
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