puppy love

Oh yes, and one more thing: my dad's dog is overnighting it at the vet. We are hoping she is alive come morning with much more vim and vigor than THIS morning. She started acting funny on Thursday, and by Friday was largely incontinent and stiff in her hind legs. After a late afternoon vet visit, she was diagnosed with a bladder infection and given the appropriate meds. Saturday showed no real improvement, but she was still eating. This morning, Dad announced after church that he thought she might die today. She was unable to get up, was refusing food or water, and that's pretty much a death sentence for a dog. Once they lose their appetite, a dog will go fairly quickly.

My father is somewhat proud of his reputation as a cold-hearted bastard. Any time my cat was ill (Calvin, whom I got in 9th grade and whom I adopted out just prior to my wedding), Dad would tell me, "I have a twenty-five cent cure for that."

Well, this reputation was severely tarnished when he had to put his dog, Heidi, down. She was 16 or 17, was the BEST bird dog he'd ever had, and her quality of life had deteriorated to a degree that he finally had to agree that death was more merciful...but none of that "twenty-five cent cure" garbage. After she slipped peacefully away, he buried her on their property and raised a glass of whiskey to her. There may even have been some tears, but you didn't hear that from me.

Bodie, the current dog, is a sweetie, and Blake loves her. He also loves to torment her, but I guess that's a little boy's job. She's very patient and seems to like the attention. Dad's announcement this morning had us all kind of conflicted. We're a pretty practical family when it comes to pets. They die. You don't spend $1000 dollars to fix a sick dog. You replace a dog when it's that ill, especially since Dad's dogs are working dogs more than family pets. But...but...we love Bodie, and while an X-ray or CT scan is excessive by the family's definition, we couldn't just give up on her. Dad took her in, they thought it may have been antifreeze poisoning, and did the requisite bloodwork while hooking her up to an IV. Bloodwork came back fine, so it looks like it may just be a really really really bad bladder infection.

We're hoping the rest and IV in an overnight at the vet does the trick. We even prayed about it. Dad's still very pragmatic when it comes to animals (must be where I get it), but we're truly concerned about Bodie and want it to end well. The best part in this whole bit? My mother, who is more verbal than most about "that stupid dog" and her habit of peeing when anyone new gets too excited about her (the dog, not my mother)...she is the one who called the vet in the first place since Dad was at work. Mom and I anxiously awaited any news from the vet on the bloodwork, and every phone call had us on pins and needles.

I guess you can say we're just hypocritical cold-hearted bastards.