Freckled

For those of you who were sick of civil union posts, you are in luck: you are now going to hear over and over about dogs.  Specifically, our dogs.  More specifically, Freckles.

After another night of no sleep and lots of what I guess you would call poop (but not poop at all--I will spare you the description), Freckles is back at the vet.  I asked them to re-hydrate her, as we can't be having a dehydrated dog for Easter.  I held her through most of the night, putting her down only when she demanded to go outside and do whatever it is you would call she was doing.  About 2 A.M., I thought about taking her to the emergency vet. Thankfully, she then fell asleep at 4 A.M. and didn't move until 6 A.M.  Of course, at that point, I could not sleep and instead lay in a semi-coma-funk worrying about the dog.  I pondered what the day would bring and thanked the baby Jesus for letting Freckles make it through the night without further incident.


When we got to the vet's office, there was a giant dog in the waiting room.  Usually, Freckles would have gone after that thing like there was no tomorrow--she's the alpha dog bitch that always makes quite the entrance when other minions of what she perceives to be her world pack are around.  Instead, she looked at the dog, didn't make a peep and wagged her tail.  Wagged her tail! I knew she was really sick when I saw that.  I handed her off to the vet tech and watched her once again go behind the door.

Side note: As I am beyond tired, I'm not sure what I have and haven't blogged about in the Freckles department--I get confused with all the blogging, emails and Book de la Face.  I apologize to you who have read about this in emails and on Book de la Face.  I promise this will contain new material, so don't be wimping out on me and not read through my babbling.

Hemorrhagic gastroenteritis.  HGE as it is called, is what the Warrior Princess seems to have.  This disgusting issue/disease/whatever is quite the nasty thing to have if you are a dog--or, a goat, per my friend, who had several baby pet goats die from this--how awful.  Anyways, as long as you catch HGE in time, all is well--keep the dog from getting dehydrated lest they die within 24 hours.  Yes, die. Although it sounds very much like I am being a drama queen, I assure you that I am not.  Google away and you'll know more than you wanted to know and that the 24 hour mark is vital.  Many an article on the always-completely-accurate internet (cough!) indicates that although dogs usually recover no worse for the wear, they will die if not attended to within 24 hours.  Sheesh. 
 
To give you an idea of what this whole thing is like, I quote Whole Dog Journal: "Owners who describe how they discovered their dogs in what looked like a slaughterhouse or execution scene aren’t exaggerating."

Here's a video of Freckles crawling, pre-illness.  How can you not love a dog who can crawl on command?

The good news is that hemorrhagic gastroenteritis is not thought to be contagious. I prefer Lucy not have an episode of HGE, as I can barely take one dog having this problem.  The thought of two sick dogs and one miserable wife makes me want to stick my head in a vat of ice cream and never come out.

There are a ton of theories for causes of HGE; I don't care about causes or theories as long as Freckles gets better and stays that way.

I'll pick her highness up later this morning and we'll be on our way, no food or fun to be had for her on this day. She'll be stuck having a blob of peanut butter with a pill in it until the raspberry jam stops shooting from her butt. I know she'll be happy again when I pick her up, as that hydration thing made a world of difference last time--it was like she was a new dog. I am guessing I'll have to take her back for further re-hydration on Monday and perhaps again in the week.  I'm all good with it as long as recovery is close at hand.

Again, I say: it is ridiculous how much I love this dog. 

But, what's not to love?