Today was a super long day; and I don't just mean that in dog terms.

The morning began with the return of Moon Pie.

She was the sweet tiny Pug that had a really rough start in life, stuck in a closet.  She had been living it up in her new home until a few days ago when she started to feel bad, and stopped eating.  Moon Pie spent last night at the emergency clinic and ended up on our doorstep this morning.  "She started acting really strange the past few days.... turning in circles, bumping into things. The emergency clinic ran some blood tests and think that she has a problem with her liver" Moon Pie's new young mom updated Sweet Sally.  "Well, you thought she might have had a shunt when you saw her last month" Sally added, after relaying all the news to mother.  I was excited to see the cute little pug again, but changed my mind when I saw the look on mother's face after checking Moon Pie out.  "She's pretty bad off" mother concluded "I think her liver has shut down. It's probably because her liver never formed properly as a puppy.  There are still a few more tests to run, and some medications we can try, but I don't know if she'll turn around."  Moon Pie's young mother was head over heels in love with her and wanted to try whatever could be done.

So Moon Pie came to the back for her tests and the standard tube-in-the-arm treatment.  When mother said that Moon Pie was "pretty bad off" I never imagined that meant she couldn't stand, or even hold her head up.  She looked skinnier than last visit. And when she did open her eyes, they didn't seem to see anything at all.  "Will she get any better?" was the question each nurse and helper asked mother, in turn, after taking one look at Moon Pie.  "I hope so" was all she could say.  "If all her problems are related to a liver shunt, medication has a real shot of helping her for awhile."
The most amazing thing about my mother is that despite the number of times things don't go her way, or that she has to say good-bye to one of her patients, she continues to hold out hope for the next one.  Bea took one sniff at Moon Pie and went to lie down -- her way of saying, don't get too attached to that one.  I was torn, I admit that the empty-eyed wrinkled little thing didn't look or smell too good, but I couldn't help rooting for her all the same.

After Moon Pie got all situated, the rest of the day unfolded according to plan. That was until a Chihuahua named Enrico walked in with some of his insides hanging out.  Enrico had met with the teeth end of a Rottweiler and mother had to go into emergency work mode to put his spleen back where it belonged.

Finally, at the end of a long day, Enrico was sent off to the emergency clinic to be watched overnight. Moon Pie was taken outside because her apartment had been dry all day -- despite all the water dripping into her arm tube.  Mother set her down, to see if she could walk, and off she trotted; right on to the grass, where she squatted and watered for close to 10 minutes.  She was not the only one with the look of relief on her face. Mother had a smile, one I don't often get to see, that satisfied smile that means maybe all the hard work has paid off.  When it comes to Moon Pie, I really hope so.