Aug. 7th, 2016 02:30 am
catharsis_logs: (spockillogical)
[personal profile] catharsis_logs
Soooo. I'm a bad owner, because I keep sleeping in, and letting my sister feed the dogs, and this morning, my sister let my dog outside, and then went back to bed because she had a headache, completely forgetting my dog, for five hours, and somewhere within that five hours, my dog crawled to the very back fence. This fence, mind you, has been completely replaced with blackberries. So, my blind dog, let's call her Bee (fake name), crawls under the blackberry bushes, and then doesn't know how to get back out. So she sits there, for god knows how long during those five hours, and whimpers, and barks, and no one goes out and gets her. I don't even know how she even got down the stairs because she has a bad back.

I wake up, at three thirty in the afternoon. I get up, go downstairs, say hi to my dad, and I can't. find. my dog. She's not in her doggie bed, which looks like she vomited all over sometime before she went outside (which is not a good sign for her) and I can't find her, I even look underneath a chair, and at this point I figure she's crawled away to die somewhere, and I'm a little freaked out. Then I hear a desperate bark from outside and I'm out the door to the backyard, in my shorts and my sandals and I practically run to where I hear the barking. She's so covered in blackberry branches that I can't see her, and she's whimpering, and barking, and whining. And I freak out slightly, run back outside, my dad asks me why I was out in the backyard, and I say "The dog has gotten stuck again." This has happened before, while I was off at school.

I run to my room, put the wrong pair of pants on, struggle out of said pants and into proper pair of pants, and go outside with my dad to get the garden shears and gloves. Then we run out to the place where she's stuck and start hacking away at blackberries. My dad does most of the work because he feels guilty that he hasn't cleared more of the blackberries, and when the way is mostly clear, and I can see Bee, we tell her not to move, and clap and try to get her to come to us, but she's practically deaf as well as blind and she's terrified and weak, so I swoop in and pick her up.

It's scary, because she's placid. I flip her over on her back to check her paws and she barely even cares, when she always cares about being on her back. Luckily she's practically untouched by the blackberries besides having a little bit of blackberry juice on her eye that looks like blood but is removed easier than blood. We take her inside and I start to make her food because she hasn't had her food yet (because my sister got her headache and didn't feed her) and she hasn't had her pills either (which come with her food). So I crush up all her pills and mix it into her food, and set it down in front of her, and she is not. interested. In food, or water. Her tongue is dry and she keeps licking her mouth all weird. She won't drink, and she won't eat, and as time goes on she's wandering with her head down and her stomach is gurgling, and she's circling around the food and water but not eating or drinking, and she's having a hard time staying on her feet.

I decide to call my Veterinarian, except they're closed for the weekend. To see if this is an emergency. I agree to a fifteen dollar consult fee to call my vet because it's the weekend. I tell her about Bee's symptoms and the doc thinks I should take her into emergency care because of her existing heart issues, she recommends a place the next town over and I agree to going. At this point Bee has gone to sleep in her now-stained doggie bed. I get some entertainment, and her pills and I put that out in the car. Then I pick up my dog in her doggie bed, so her head is sticking out but the rest of her isn't. Then I take her out to the car, plug the address into my phone's gps and we're off.

As I'm driving Bee is just sitting in her doggie bed, being lethargic, and around halfway or a quarter of the way there she curls up and goes to sleep. Cue me having visions of getting to the emergency vet only to find a stiff Bee in her doggie bed. So I poke her every so often to make sure she's still alive, before getting to the vet. I have to press a button to get into the place, and they unlock the door and let me in. The vet tech lady leads me to a room, and we get some vitals on Bee and I say what has happened and what she's suffering from.

Then the vet comes into the room, and she recommends that Bee get bloodwork done, in order to see if there's anything else other than dydration, and she also recommends that Bee get an iv for fluids. So I wait for the blood results, and the blood results come back and show that she has an elevated white blood cell count which is apparently signs of an infection. So they recommend a urinalysis as well as everything else, and I'm looking at a bill upwards of six hundred dollars, so I call my dad and we move some funds around. And I pay the lovely people. When I got Bee back from getting her blood drawn she was covered in alchohol where they drew blood and I couldn't believe that she was tolerating the smell when I could barely stand it myself. Bee gave me some kisses on the nose and this convinced me that she could drink some water, but when water came she showed no interest so no dice.

I bring in Bee's medications, agree to pay the extra for the urinalysis, they take her back to the kennel to get her iv started and I leave. I feel horrible, I feel horrible for leaving her there, I feel horrible for her having to stay there, and I feel horrible just in general. Also they asked me what to do in the case of a crash, to resuscitate or not. I asked how much it would be to resuscitate and they told me upwards of a hundred bucks. I said to resuscitate once and if she crashes again, to let nature take its course. She's fourteen, she's had a long life, and if this is the end at least we had some good times before the end. But that's the thing... I'm already grieving and she's not gone yet. I'm getting a preview of what life will be like with her gone and I Don't Like It.

So that was my day. My good deed of the day was giving a man at the emergency vet two Tylenol for his torn rotator cuff. I asked him why he was at the vet instead of a doctor, and he said that was next. We also talked about how expensive this place was, his earlier visits with his four rattler bitten dogs, and the state of the presidential election. He did most of the talking.

I'm gonna probably going to go to bed real soon here because I have to be awake at seven thirty in the MORNING to call the doctor before the shift changes to see how Bee is doing and if I can pick her up. I just wanted to dump this day all over y'all. Because I needed a dump. (take how you will)
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