Poor Dozy is sick. Sick as in admitted to doggy hospital and on a saline and antibiotic drip sick. He had an ultrasound and the poor pup’s pancreas and liver are looking pretty bad. His stomach is all distended and he’s wheezing a little. Looks like organ failure. Worst still, his appetite is going (this is a BIG deal for my greedy boy) and he has no energy to do much but flop on the floor.
In recent years, I’ve become something of a veteran in dealing with sick old people and shuttling in and out of hospitals. All this, I’ve dealt with quite calmly. No tears, except for daddy, and even then, all that was saved for the end when he had gone.
Not so with my poor pooch. One look at his big, sad, wondering eyes in his hospital cage and the dams burst. My poor mum was quite beside herself as I blubbed on my sick dawgy.
I think it’s because animals are so helpless, vulnerable yet so trusting. Dozy was weak as anything but still tried to perk up for his mummy and brother when we came to visit. Totally gut-wrenching.
In the meantime, it’s a waiting game till we see if he responds to the medicines and fluid therapy. We’re blowing $$$$ on this but I’m hoping against hope that a minor miracle will happen and he will pull through.
Rooting for you, pooch. And hoping you’ll come home.