Thursday, February 16, 2012

Drama Dog...

I am still reeling from our crash start to the new year.
February seems to be the month for major canine surgery. Last year half of Jamie's toe needed to be amputated. This year was no different.

Two weeks after returning home, Jamie stopped eating and looked off colour. We went to the vet but they were unable to make an absolute diagnosis and advised me to observe him overnight.
It was the worst night both Jamie and I have had for a long time. His condition deteriorated as he began vomiting, cramping, trembling and acting very insecure and needy. I also noticed that he kept going into the "prayer" or "bow" position (forelegs bent at the elbows while the back legs remain straight, a position dogs often adopt when stretching).

We were at the vet's door at the crack of dawn the next day. Apparently these were classic signs of abdominal pain. There were a number of possible causes: Urinary tract infection; stones; pancreatitis, severe gastroenteritis or an abdominal obstruction. To get to the bottom of this meant loads and loads of tests: blood smears, urine analysis, X- rays, ultrasounds and scans before the final diagnosis was made. Jamie had an abdominal obstruction... (OMG!). I remembered warnings about this dreaded disaster from puppy school days when our pups used to chew and swallow everything and anything. It seems Jamie has not outgrown that habit!

The only option was full on surgery.
So Jamie was hospitalised and went under the knife again. The guilty culprit, plucked from his duodenum, proved to be a peach pip.

And if surgery was not bad enough, the vet has insisted that Jamie go on diet!

The poor dog is hoovering my kitchen floor in the hopes of finding the minutest tidbit. How come I feel so cruel, when this is supposed to be in Jamie's best interests? I have become neurotic about letting Jamie out the house. How else can I prevent him putting anything that has not been strictly vetted by yours truly into his mouth, particularly since he acts as if he is starving?

Whenever he looks at me with his "sad eyes" expression, I am not sure if he is feeling sick again or accusing me of dog cruelty.
Forget all the hospital soap operas, I think the stories that go on in vet clinics will make for brilliant TV drama.
(I should know!)


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