"Better living through chemistry" that's what my mom likes to say.  She give lots of different medicines to lots of different pets: there are eye drops, and ear drops, pills, pokes and tasty syrups all given to fix problems.   The problems can be anything from runny eyes to liquid nuggets, bringing up kibbles to red itchy skin bumps.  Today it seemed like the problem the visitors had was a strong desire not to be at our clinic.
Believe it or not, there are medicines for that too.
Vocal Vonnie brought her daughter Charlie in today.  Charlie and I go way back.  We were puppies together.  I have 4 weeks and a half a pound on her -- I owned her then and I still own her now.

Charlie was at the clinic to have her hair cut off, and she did not like the idea one little bit.  Bark, bark, bark turned to yelp, wrestle and cry as the hair removal went on and on.  Finally, Vonnie whined to mother about giving Charlie "something, anything, whatever it takes to make her stay still!".  So Charlie got a poke in the arm and soon after sat perfectly still for the rest of her body work.

In a similar story, Jacob was a storm of raging cat fury trapped in an 18 lb body.  His last visit had him climbing the walls and biting one of mother's helpers even through the arm coverings.  So for his visit today, mother had Jacob's mom give him "a little something to help with his nerves".  And quiet his nerves it did!  Vonnie was able to get Jacob on the weighing machine, and put the beeping machine up his hind end before he tried to bite the first time.  By the time mother got a chance to look over the angry cat he was growling and chewing on Vonnie's padded hands, but with much less vigor than in visits past.  Once again, a triumph of the medicines. 

In case anyone was wondering, I did find out about the blog last night.  And no, Bea was not on any of mother's medicines at the time.  

Muthr out for kibbles with dad. B to do blog.  Not gud at wurds or typeing.  Ron wuld be maddddd if she found out, so no barkin.  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr -- sorry, mann on bike go by.

Paisssly doing well.  Tung on Humvee not cancr.  Happe for him.

Oh no, Ron wakin up. Got to go.

Think clinic shuld be called HerBea Creek Animl Hpsital.          

The humans are always up to something.  I wonder if I'll ever stopped being amazed at what they'll do next.  I know that I've barked on and on about the sweet smelling anal gland essence that each of one of us canines possess; a scent so unique and special that the humans spend time harvesting it.  By her own admission, it is Sweet Sally's very favorite thing to do.
Today, the humans took that obsession to a whole other level; and I growl a warning at you, it's pretty disturbing.

Paisley was the cutest little black and tan Pomeranian that you've ever seen, at least that's what Vocal Vonnie said.  "The black and tan ones are really rare"  Vonnie barked on and on, "and Paisley's really cute.  I would totally steal that dog" she added.  Of course, we all know that Vonnie wears the Pomeranian colored glasses and thinks pretty much all of them are super cute.  I would have to agree that Paisley had some cute elements and was really well behaved during her stay with us.  I could tell that she had no idea why she was at the clinic though.

Vonnie got all set up for a procedure in the no-awake-dogs-allowed room, and after a few pinches Paisley was fast asleep wandering through dreamland.  The next step always involves Vonnie taking some fur off some part of the pets body, and it was then that I knew something wasn't right.  Paisley's back end was stuck way up in the air and  Vonnie emptied all of the anal gland essence, but then mother went right back over to those anal glands to put something in. She used a thick waxy material that didn't have any of Paisley's special scent.  After that Vonnie and mother were in the procedure room and I couldn't really tell what was happening.

It wasn't until after Paisley was back in her apartment, regaining her awareness that I saw exactly what it was that Paisley had had removed; two perfect little anal gland grapes sat on the towel near all the metal tools. 

Paisley had suffered the indignity of an anal gland harvesting like no other.  I could not image what she would do the next time she got frightened, or went to a new place and wanted to leave her mark.  Sure, she still had the yellow marking liquid, but any self-respecting canine knows that sometimes it's just not enough.

Paisley's mom was elated when she came to get her little girl.  "I'm so glad to hear that everything went well, and, no offense, but I won't miss having to bring her every month to get squeezed.  For a little dog, she sure made a big stink!" Paisley's mom shared.  "No kidding" echoed Vonnie "those glands were so big we had to use two tubes of the wax to fill them.  They were Golden Retriever sized glands!". 
That made me feel even worse for Paisley, to have such talent and no longer be able to share it with the world.  I have to bark that I look at all the humans a little differently now, and to keep them from sniffing around my hind parts I'll have to work extra hard at keeping my sweet smelling sac scent all to myself!

Full April moon and dogs will be dogs. I have to admit that some natural animal instincts tend to emerge at certain times of the month. I've noticed that this is not only true for the canines. Sweet Zanie came back from the school that she devotes her life and her uterus to. She spent the last 6 weeks nursing her puppies and was glad to leave them behind.

"I love being a mom, and I love bringing kids into the world that will help others" Sweet Zanie told me "but I'm just as happy to leave them behind and start logging some serious nap time."

"True that" Bea barked in response. I barked up too, not because I know what having puppies is all about, but just because sometimes you have to bark.

We had three Zoe's visit today -- each very different. One Zoe was having fits that had recently gotten worse -- mother thought the full moon might be having some effect - either that or her brain was just built wrong. The other Zoe couldn't stop crying and had smelly tears so thickly attached to her face hair that mother had to cut them off. Her grandma said no to the tests, so Zoe got eye drops to make her feel better. I don't know if it was the moon or not that affected Zoe's grandma's decision, but I don't have another good explanation.

The third Zoe was a Persian cat. If you think that sounds like a fancy kind of cat, that's because it is. I have learned that Persian cats are very special and beautiful -- at least that's what Zoe says, and even though I don't think she had any nose at all, I'm pretty sure she kept it way up in the air. She wouldn't even let me get close for a sniff.

The humans have been acting strange too. Patient Pam and Vocal Vonnie were do the laughing about breast milk today and who's ever tried it. Pretty soon, Pam was glowing a startling shade of red and lying on the floor laughing, something about how everyone should try things that come out of your own body. Of course I agree with this; I routinely try to sample what comes out of Bea's body, but naturally when I do it no one seems to think it's funny.

Finally, the scary teenagers were doing a ritual type gathering in front of our clinic. Everyone inside was getting the fear smell and Vocal Vonnie had to call a man called the police to make them move. Now I don't know if we can blame the moon for that one, Vonnie just likes to get people in trouble. They should have just let me at them, I can be pretty scary you know.

A seemingly quiet Monday, did not end up that way.  My dad was seeing some happy visitors, Vocal Vonnie was grumbling on about not getting enough sleep and I was only halfway through cleaning one of Bea's ears when Sugar was rushed in.  Sugar was a 6 month old Standard Poodle puppy, and she was covered in the red syrup and had some of her insides on the outside of her body.  "Help!  Help!" her parents yelled as they carried her in.  "She was spayed on Friday and now everything's coming out!" Sugar's mom shrieked. 
Vocal Vonnie and my mom set about to make the panicked puppy comfortable while Sally asked questions to Sugar's parents.  Mother got out some of the clear liquid goo and some white coverings to protect the parts that belonged on the inside.  Vonnie put a tube in Sugar's arm, amd mother pushed some medicines through the tube until Sugar could barely hold her head up.  Mother then grabbed a bag of fluid and started to rinse off the inside parts, "Looks like it's just fat from her abdomen, thankfully no intestines are stuck out.  I think the blood is from the fat getting cut on the staples. Hopefully she didn't chew on any of this.".
Sally came back shortly with the whole story, "She was spayed at the low-cost place in Fort Myers on Friday and she seemed to be doing ok.  Her parents came home an hour ago to find blood everywhere and Sugar licking her insides.  They've agreed to the surgery to have us repair things"  she quickly added.
So Sugar got more things put in the tube in her leg, then she got a tube in her mouth and was wheeled into the no-awake-dogs-allowed room. Mother had to check everything on the inside but didn't have to remove anything other than the fat. "I can only find one piece of suture from her first surgery.  I wonder if she ate it all.  If so, we're really lucky that's all she ate " I heard mother say as she finished up and put Sugar into the apartment next to mine to recover. 
Then mother left Vonnie to watch over the sleeping poodle and went to discuss the situation with Sugar's parents, "I think Sugar's going to be ok"  she began, "The biggest thing we have to worry about is infection, but I've started her on two different antibiotics. We are going to have to keep a cone on her head to prevent her from disturbing the incision -- no exceptions." she added.
Sugar had to go to the overnight clinic to get more of Auntie's biotics.  "Wow, so much for the low-cost spay" Vonnie commented.  "Cost aside, I feel bad that the little girl had to have two surgeries in 3 days, and now is at risk for peritonitis" mother answered. 
As for me, after watching everything that Sugar went through I'm just glad that I resisted the urge to chew  out my belly strings when I had them.  I guess I'm smarter than I look too!

A nice quiet Friday; nothing I like better after a long week.  The slow pace gave my parents a chance to catch up with some of the recent cases.
Zeke had his test with the goo-covered probe, and then had to have some more red syrup tested.  Turns out he doesn't have a tumor in his belly, which I guess is a good thing.  Patient Pam seemed relieved to hear the news and satisfied that she could get some pills to help with Zeke's problems.

Rose, the pug, got her test results back from the lump my dad removed.  Her lump was a mast cell tumor but dad got all the bits out and it received a grade 1 which I understand to be a good grade for that kind of tumor.  I don't really understand the grading system.  Mother gives out a lots of A's and A+'s on her report cards for our furry visitors, but no one ever got quite the happy look that Rose's mom had after getting her Grade 1 report.  Maybe mother needs to change her grades.
We also saw Pookie the sheltie back.  He has healed well and his mom is "so grateful for the extra time with him."  His report came back, but his news wasn't as good as Roses', "The type of cancer in his spleen is something called a hisiocytic sarcoma.  We all thought that it would come back as a hemangiosarcoma.  Unfortunately it is still a malignant cancer and the prognosis is about the same."  Mother went on to discuss other medicines that Pookie could have called 'chemotherapy', but Pookie's mom said she was happy with every day she has with him now, and "enough is enough".
Finally, Humvee came back for a visit today.  Dad didn't have enough extra skin to close the hole that the extra tongue came out of, so he wanted to make sure things were healing ok.  "Wow, it looks great" he said surprised "we don't have his test results back, but it's a good sign that things seem to be healing well."  I have to say for a big giant scary looking dog, he's not scary at all.  In fact, I bark and bark and bark at him and he looks almost as if he might just do what I tell him.  I guess he's smarter than he looks too.

So today Pam found out that her giant dog Zeke has the Cushions disease.

 He had been in last week for the long day of getting his red syrup taken.  His 'court of zones' were all out of whack, at least that's what mother said the tests meant.  "Well, at least I know why he's been eating the crayons" Patient Pam admitted.

I love to eat crayons.  I think the red ones taste the best.  I wonder if my zones are in whack? 

"His cortisone level is so high" mother said to Pam, looking over the red syrup paperwork "and it barely changed when we gave him the medication, so he could have an adrenal tumor.  We should have Dr. G do an ultrasound to see if he can find a tumor.  If not, Zeke should respond really well to the medicine" mother added.  Patient Pam was both relieved and worried, "I'm glad to have found the problem, and at least it's something we can treat, but I was secretly hoping it was all in my head". 
"Well, if you're lucky Pam, it's all in Zeke's head" mother said jokingly.  Only her and my dad laughed.  Vonnie said "Ha, ha, because it could be because of a pituitary tumor.  That's really veterinary geek humor.  You two are sad." 
And yet they were laughing, so they I don't think they were sad at all.  Sad usually involves the water coming from the eyes.  Once again, the humans were not making any sense.  I just hope that all of my zones stay in the right place. I hate pokes and I hate giving up the red syrup;  although if it meant I got to eat crayons without getting in trouble I might reconsider.

Strawberry anyone?

Humvee the enormous Rottweiler came in to the clinic today.  I could tell that it was going to be one of those crazy days.  Mother said "Oh look, he's sticking his tongue out at us!", but when I looked at Humvee his mouth was closed.  Sweet Sally said "What do you mean, his mouth is closed?", and the answer she got was "not the tongue in his mouth, the tongue on his leg!".

One look at the big, big, big Rottweiler and I knew what she meant.  He had a tongue growing right out of his leg.

It reminded me of Brawny Brandon.













Humvee was every bit as tough as he looked when it came to getting all of his pokes to help him fall asleep.  My dad worked on the giant black dog and removed the extra tongue, "I hope if it's cancerous, that it's not one of the really bad cancers" he remarked.  "Humvee is such a good dog, it's never good news for the nice ones".

Vocal Vonnie was very busy today being vocal.  Mother squirts me and Bea with water when we talk too much and I have a feeling that if Vonnie were a dog, she'd be soaking wet most of the time.

Vonnie was tired after lunch and lied down for a nap.  There was lots of growling and snarling after she woke up, and it wasn't coming from Humvee.  You know it's a strange day when the scariest thing in the clinic isn't the 150 lb Rottweiler that just had some parts cut off. 

True to form, Sassy Sally was right there to calm the angry beast.  Maybe we should call her Sweet and Sassy Sally. 

Spring is in full swing and every one is acting a little strange.  Bea keeps sniffing the air, as if there is someone, somewhere leaving her scent messages.  Sweet Sally says that Gomer will not stop jumping on his sister Shadow.  In fact, even Sweet Sally is acting a little off.  Dancing Debbie says we should all call her Sassy Sally now.

One of our regular visitors, Big Mike, also came to play.  It started off as a nice visit, we went through all the usual sniffing and greeting.  But then the spring fever took over and before I knew it he was acting like one of the humans. 

The humans had left some food out, as they usually do, just to torment us, but Big Mike decided he would just stand up and help himself.  Spring fever or not, I was impressed.  I took note of his moves. 
Now I just have to figure out how to gain a little height and none of their food will be mine.....all mine!

Mother says "truth is stranger than fiction".  I have no idea what that means.   I overheard her talking to Patient Pam about a pet that went to the overnight clinic.  Pebbles was the oldest of three sister Dachshunds that lived with their human mom Mrs. Bea Fuddled.  Mrs. Fuddled had been to visit our clinic before, but always for food or treats, I hadn't had a chance to actually meet any of the Dachshund girls yet.  Mrs. Fuddled travels back and forth to the place called 'Up North', so she already had a doctor for her girls. 

Mother was reading aloud to Patient Pam from the report from the overnight clinic; "Mrs. Fuddled recently purchased Advantage Multi for her pets.  She was used to giving heartworm prevention by mouth and was happy that her new heartworm prevention came in a liquid form.  She gave one dose to her dog, Diamond and she vomited shortly afterwards.  She gave the next dose to Pebbles who started drooling but did not vomit.  She didn't give a dose to her third dog but called the clinic that sold her the medication to see if it could be making the dogs sick.  That's when she ended up at the emergency clinic."
"Wow", was all Patient Pam could say. "Topical medication has been around so long, I would never have thought someone might give it orally!" mother mused.  " It really teaches you that you can't take anything for granted."

"So does the report say what happened to Pebbles?" Sweet Sally chimed in.  "It says that Pebbles acted drunk and wobbly for a few hours but then she was fine.  The report includes a bit about contacting the manufacturer and in the studies they did, giving the medicine orally, most dogs didn't get very sick.  I guess that's good to know" mother added.
We never did get to see Pebbles, Patient Pam called and she's 'back to normal' according to her mother.  I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what 'fiction' meant.  Bea was no help at all, she thought it had to do with fish and said it sounded yummy.  I think it must have to do with Dachshunds, their backs are so long there can't be much stranger than that!

Be happy for what you have....

Sometimes I lie in my villa and stare at the ceiling. Sometimes the ceiling is so shiny it looks as if another set of cute little dogs looking right back.. As I lie there I take in all the smells and sounds around me. On Fridays there are lots of good food smells because my parents take turns bringing in muffins, or cakes, or fruit. I always watch out for the crumbs so I can beat Bea to them when we're supposed to be heading on our trips outside.


Sometimes I find myself focusing on things I can't have, like the freedom to jump right up on the counter and devour every last tasty morsel, or a super long tongue to get that last bit of ear wax out of Bea's ears that I've been trying to reach for weeks.

It never fails that when I start thinking like that, I meet a new friend who has less to wag their tail about than I do, and yet wag it they do. Her name was Stacy, and she was an American Eskimo. Now, I know what you're thinking, but Stacy was like no American Eskimo anyone at the clinic had ever met before; she was sweet, and super friendly. Not only was she sweet and super friendly, but she acted so in the face of what had to be agonizing pain. I could tell by the way she carried her paw. The smell of rotting meat wafted in with her and I've learned by now to know what was under the makeshift bandage wasn't going to be good. “She done got loose from the yard three days ago” Stacy's mom twanged “we noticed a gash on her leg and brought her over right quick!”

My mother and Vocal Vonnie went right to work. They removed the green smelly covering and both let out a quiet “ewww” so as not to alarm Stacy's mom. “That wound looks pretty old and there's skin missing down to the bone” mother stated. “Ohmigosh I see a maggot” Vonnie squealed. “And you say you just noticed it?” mother questioned again. “Well, she did up and disappear for 3 days, which is not unusual for her when she's in the 'heat'. But we knew something was wrong when we found her down in the yard so we tried fixin' her up ourselves with a bandage, but now the swelling's got worse. The thing is we just moved into a new house on 4 acres, and  now our regular vet said he was through with us, and if we couldn't pay our bills we shouldn't own dogs. Can you imagine?”

Vocal Vonnie sat speechless and mother just gulped. I saw them go back and forth to the clickety-clack screen over and over, always showing Stacy's mom new pieces of paper. Unhappy with what she saw, Stacy's mom stood up, “I guess we're stuck fixing this ourselves” she concluded.

Patient Pam was in on the case too by now, and offered to take sweet Stacy home with her and fix her up if Stacy could be 'donated'. “Oh no, I could never do that. I love her too much to live without her. I'm sure we can figure something out on our own.” So sweet Stacy was carried out to the car with a fresh bandage and some donated medications. No sooner had they left that I overheard Vonnie talking to someone about 'control' and 'sending an officer'.

Like I said, sometimes I sit in my villa and think about what I don't have, but most of the time I'm just happy for what I've got.

Her name was Rose; and she smelled as sweet!  She used to smell like corn chips and cheese like Aunt Becky but since she started on the special itch medicine she's been better.    Dad saw her last week for a lump that just "popped" up.  He said it was something called a "mast cell tumor" and that "those can be really bad.  But we won't know until we remove it and send it to the lab". 

Rose is really a super tough dog.  No wonder every one thinks that I am part Pug.  She didn't complain one bit for any of the pokes.  My dad spent a long time in the no-awake-dogs-allowed room making sure that he removed every bit of the puffy lump.  Rose says she's not afraid of any 'tumor'.  She already takes medication every single day and all it means is extra treats for her.  I think next time someone asks my mom if I'm part Pug I will stand and wag my tail in agreement; especially if it means I have some of the toughness of sweet Rose!

 

Precious was a 10 year old, 4 pound teacup toy poodle.  And like most precious things, Precious was breakable.  Her parents found that out the hard way today. 
"We carry her everywhere, and don't even let her go outside to the bathroom.  I just set her down to make myself a snack and she didn't get her legs under her quite the right way.  The next thing we knew, blood was coming from her mouth!" Precious' exasperated parents recounted as they rushed into the clinic.  "Do you think she's hurt bad?" they questioned worriedly.
The only thing I knew for sure was that she smelled bad.  My sniffer is usually pretty good at sensing when things are wrong, and by the smell of it, something had crawled up and died in Precious' mouth long ago.
Mother got the worried look on her face when she looked at the little dog with red syrup dripping from her mouth and teeth jutting out at odd angles.  "Well, judging by the look of her, she might have broken her jaw" was the first thing mother could offer.  But no sooner did mother try to peek under Precious' lips than she was met with ugly brown teeth snapping at her.  "Oh, don't mind her" Precious' mom said "she doesn't like strangers". 

"It's good to know that her mouth isn't bothering her too much to keep her from biting" mother offered politely. 

Precious got a poke so that she would relax for the black and white pictures.  She wasn't fully asleep but she lied still enough for mother to feel the tell-tale grinding in Precious' jaw.  "Her jaw is definitely broken" mother told Precious' parents.  They sat astonished, "but she barely brushed the ground, how can that be?" they questioned.

"From the look of the x-rays, most of her teeth are rotten and the gum infection turned into a bone infection and weakend her jaw bone.  All it took was one little bump and then it broke.  She even swallowed one of her teeth -- you can see it in her stomach!"  mother pointed out.

So the angry little Precious dog got medicine to fight off the infection and directions to the nearest dog dentist to have her jaw repaired.  I see my folks send toothbrushes and toothpaste home with lots of their furry patients.  I guess no one ever showed Precious how to care for her teeth -- either that or she tried to kill the toothbrush.  I guess it won't matter now, judging by the way her mouth smelled I don't think she'll have any teeth left after the dentist gets done with her!

Tough to focus today, I can't get my mind off the dog park.  Images of frolicking through the fields fill my every thought. 

We had lots of visitors at the clinic today, but most were familiar faces.  Debbie brought her son, Prince,

and Vonnie brought Shakespeare.  Prince came to get a soap treatment, his nails trimmed and to donate some anal gland essence.  Shakespeare was on the receiving end of lots of pokes; the kind made to keep us healthy rather than treat us when we get sick.

My dad says "Tax day is keeping the clients away."   I don't know where the taxes are but they're not here so I don't know why people would stay away. 

Our day got cut short because our girl, Anna, had to go to the human doctor.  Turns out that she has a step in her throat and can't go to school.  I volunteered myself to nap with her.  It's a tough job but someone's got to do it.

I always look forward to Mondays; a welcome break from the quiet of the den with treats to eat and pets to sniff. But today was a day like no other. Today was the first day of the rest of my life. Today I got to sniff the future, and I have to bark that the future smells great!

Bea and I and my parents were invited to a ground breaking ceremony at the new North Port Dog Park! Every dog who was any dog was there, of course none as nicely dressed as me or Bea. The site was absolutely beautiful, with green as far as the eye could see. There weren’t a lot of good smells there yet, but judging by the furry attendees it won’t take long to make it smell as good as it looks. Of course Bea didn’t waste any time laying down her mark!

There were cookies to eat for both the humans and the dogs, and lots of people with the flashing machines. The humans were busy talking about what the place would be: separate large yards for the big and little dogs, shady trees and fences to keep everyone safe. Bea and I instinctively knew what the place already was; a taste of freedom.

Mother says it’s scheduled to be completed by September 1st. I hope that’s soon because I cannot wait to make my mark. Well -- to make another mark.

Another day, another Yorkie and another patient needing treatment with the special air.  His name was Joe, and he was a 5 year old boy.  When he first entered the clinic I thought it wasn't a dog, but a a goose making the strange honking sound.  Patient Pam carried him straight to the back, "He doesn't look good.  He's purple!"  The little guy was trying hard to breathe, "Can't......stop.......coughing", was all he could manage to get out.  Although he looked like the normal black and tan color to me, Sweet Sally must have understood the 'purple' code word from Pam because she rushed to get out the special air machine.  Mother took one look at the tiny heaving dog and put some drops up his nose followed by an orange tube that she attached to his head.  The helpers went about attaching the orange tube to the special air machine, as well as sticking one of the special little tubes in Joe's leg.  Mother started putting medicine into the leg tube and pretty soon Joe was so sleepy he was barely able to lift his head.  Finally, his breathing slowed, and his harsh honking became more of a gruff snore.
When mother was satisfied with all of the numbers on Joe's monitoring machines she went to go talk to Joe's dad.  "Does Joe have a history of coughing like this?" she asked.  "No, he's always had a problem with spasms in his throat, but we were told it was some sort of sneezing.  He's never been this bad." Joe's father answered. 
"It sounds like he's had a problem with reverse sneezing before, but this is a different problem"  mother advised.  "Joe is showing all the classic signs of a 'collapsing trachea'.  It's pretty common in toy breed dogs, their windpipes are born with weak cartilage that collapses easily.  If they start to cough, the trachea collapses, and the collapsing irritates the trachea so then they cough more; the more they cough, the more the windpipe collapses, until they're not getting any air at all.  The treatment involves getting him to calm down and stop coughing to allow the windpipe to relax and stop collapsing so much.  I've sedated him and he's already breathing easier" mother continued. 
So Joe stayed for the rest of the day, attached to the special air machine.  Mostly he slept but whenever one of the helpers tried to look in his mouth, or put the beeping machine up his hind end, the honking would start again.    By the end of the day, he'd had almost three consecutive hours without a honk.  Mother told Joe's dad that Joe should go to the overnight clinic to stay on the special air, and stay on the special sleepy medication.  "We need a good 24 hours without him coughing at all, to allow the inflammation in his trachea to calm down.  If he calms down you can take him home, but you'll need to keep medicine on hand to break the coughing cycle as soon as it starts.
Mother has always said that my trachea collapses because sometimes I cough after running a lot or drinking water.  In fact, she says that's why I have to wear a jacket instead of a collar around my neck.  Seeing what Joe had to go through, I guess I'm lucky to have a mom that knows what to do to keep me from needing the special air treatment.  Although, the sleepy haze medicine doesn't look too bad.  Maybe I do feel a little cough coming on.......

Mother says "the moon must be full".  Every furry visitor these days seems to be sick.  Yesterday, father kept busy making some dogs teeth go from brown to white, while mother had lots of sick puzzles to figure out.  Two cats came in for bringing up red syrup.  Their lips were lined in red, but that's where their similarites ended.  The bigger cat, Wally, couldn't seem to catch his breath and within a few minutes of his being at the clinic he got the special air blowing in his face  Mother had her helpers take some samples of Wally's red syrup and even though they only wanted a little, all of this poke marks kept dripping.  "Could he have eaten rat poison?" mother asked Wally's mom.  "Not possible" she replied.  "Could someone have hurt him?  "No, I live alone".  "Does he go outside?"  "Only on a screened lanai".  Questions were answered, as quickly as they were asked.  Soon, mother had all her reports back on Wally's syrup and everything was normal.  His black and white pictures told a different story, "He's got fluid in his lungs, and since he's bringing up blood, it's probably blood in his lungs.  Since Wally's clotting times are normal, something traumatic must have happened to him."  "Well, Wally and my other cat, Wilma, do play rough.  I have an open second story at my condo, could he get blood in his lungs if he fell?"  Wally's mom inquired.  "Absolutely " mother answered.  "But I thought cat's were always supposed to land on their feet? Wally's mom asked.  "Nah, that's sort of an old wives tale.  You only hear the stories about the ones that land on their feet.  No one ever talks about the ones that don't"  mother answered.  Silence followed, and I think I heard Bea sort of snicker.  She never did like cats.  The good news for Wally was that he seemed to respond well to his treatment, and it looks like he'll get to be one of the cats people talk about.

The other cat with the red syrup in it's mouth, was not so lucky.  He was just a teenager, and his name was Frisco.  Mother knew right away what was wrong with him, she could see it in his mouth, "It looks like something's caught in his throat, I can see a cut on his tongue too."  Frisco got a sleeping pinch, so mother could take a closer look.  She was not expecting what she found.  As she pulled Frisco's tongue out of his mouth to peek behind it, his entire tongue came out in two pieces!  It had been cut in half!  "There's nothing in there that I can see" and even the black and white pictures were normal.  Frisco's dad didn't have any idea of what could have cut the cat's tongue and water started to stream from his eyes when he was made to realize that Frisco couldn't live without his tongue.  Silence filled the air again, as we all said a quiet good-bye to the young cat who had managed to purr the whole time his tongue lay in pieces. 
Definitely, not a good time to be a cat.  Mother says that curiosity disease is a tough one.  I sure hope I don't catch it. 

"Things always happen in three's", that's what Sweet Sally said.  I heard her say it yesterday after running her 3rd test in a row on cat red syrup.  "It's so funny how we won't run one of these tests for months, and then all of a sudden -- three in a row!"

This morning the same thing was true but for Yorkie dogs.  Mother saw cute Theodore,

adorable Isabella

and then the Reed couple also came in.  

They are truly an amazing couple; for two dogs of the same breed they couldn't look more different.  Yogi is a much older man dog, whose heart has been giving him trouble for years, while his young wife, Carmen is three times his size .  Vocal Vonnie says that Carmen is a 'gigantor of Yorkies'.   "Their physical differences didn't seem to matter when it came to having puppies.  They had 21 babies together" Mrs. Reed boasted.  "The sad thing is, he really can't stand her but nature took over 3 times and the rest was history" she added.

I imagined myself trying to find a suitor as old as Bea but three times smaller than me, and I just couldn't picture it.  In fact, I find it strange that I have no desire to have babies at all.  I think that maybe I'm all the cute that this world needs.   Bea says, she never really wanted her babies before they came, she just always felt drawn to the boy dogs, some months more than others.  She says she never feels that way anymore.  

Maybe once you've found a happy den to call home. you just don't want things to change.  And I do love my home!

Busy, busy, busy again today. Mother says “pets are coming out of the woodwork”!


She says, “Some people take their pets to visit their veterinarian twice a year, others twice a decade… and 2010 is the end of a decade.” Now, I admit that I don’t know what a decade is, and that the walls don’t look like their made of wood, but we sure are seeing a lot of pets these days.

Dr. G cat doctor was occupied seeing the whiskery purring patients today. It wasn’t long before the clinic was filled with the sounds of Dad’s sneezing and sniffling. Mother saw a few cats too. One of the “once in a decade” visitors came in for bringing up kibbles mixed with red syrup.

 His name was Siam and he was a type of cat called a “Balinese” but he didn’t seem to have any balls in or on his knees. What he did have was a taste for easter grass that he satisfied this weekend. He had been bringing up the kibbles ever since, at least that’s what his mom said. Mother looked the skinny outspoken cat over and thought he looked pretty good for one so sick. Siam’s mom was certain of her furry son’s problem and declined most of the tests but requested some ‘x-rays’. But then Siam’s mom was disappointed that the pictures didn’t have all the answers. “So is the grass in his stomach? Will it pass? What about the stool, is there grass in there? Will he stop vomiting, or will he need surgery? Actually, he’s been vomiting for years, do you think this is related?” My mother went over the pictures, “It does look like there is something in his stomach, but we can’t tell with x-rays what it is. He does not look obstructed right now, or have any signs or peritonitis. I think Siam should stay hospitalized and get intravenous fluids and then see if his stomach will calm down and empty”. Siam’s mother had a different idea and decided to take her sick boy back home. As she was leaving, I heard her mumbling, “all that and still no answers”. I don’t know what will become of Siam, but my mother’s pretty sure that no matter what happens we won’t be seeing Siam again for another decade!

What a wonderful long weekend! Bea and I certainly enjoyed the extra time at the den.  Not only did we get to relax and enjoy ourselves, not being stuck to our usual schedule, but there we wonderful things falling on the ground.  Cheese, crackers, ham, cake left over from Anna's birthday, and all sorts of things shaped like eggs. Bea and I didn't really get to enjoy any of the egg shaped delights because whenever one of us would snap something up, mother was right there to shake it out of our mouths. 
Anna left some treats lying on the counter though, and Bea already has a plan on how to get them.  My parents kept talking about the "bunny", and how it leaves treats behind, and about "going on a hunt".  Maybe my mother doesn't notice, but Bea and I go hunting for what rabbits leave behind every day, and even though we don't call it a holiday, Bea and I celebrate and feast whenever we find the treats in the yard! 

The humans are definitely acting stranger than usual these day.  Bea says it's called "spring fever".  Vocal Vonnie has taken to singing a lot and people keep mistaking her from someone on the moving picture box in our den.  There's been lots of laughing while they make signs and put them on each other's backs.  I don't know what it means, but mothers always using the flashing light machine when she see's it.

Bea and I weren't the only ones eating treats falling from the sky this weekend, because lots of visitors today came in for bringing up kibbles or having nuggets that looked like brown water.  My parents had to give out lots of pokes to treat the upset tummies.  After seeing what the furry visitors had to go through today, I guess I'm glad all I got was a little mouth shaking. 

Another busy Thursday today, but with one exception.  His name was Ace, and his mother brought him in for not acting right.  "I saw him sniffing around on the lanai this morning and then I saw him eat something.  I didn't worry about it at first, but now Ace is having trouble walking." she reported. 
Sweet Sally asked all the usual questions, "Do you have any idea what it was he ate?  Anything toxic on your lanai, any pesticides?"  "Oh no, nothing like that," Ace's mother replied, "but my son and his friends were out there last night, I'll have to ask him." 
Ace's human brother was waiting up front, and from the moment I got a sniff of him I got the sense that he wouldn't have any answers.  He had a wide-eyed far away look, almost as if he was asleep while he was awake.  I realized, as did my mother, that Ace had the same look.  They both had the same smell too; a mix of cigar smoke and skunk.
Mother looked Ace over and took notes as he stumbled when he walked, his general twitchiness, and his subdued attitude.  After examining Ace, mother went to talk to Ace's family again.  "Are you sure you don't know what Ace could have eaten?  If we knew what it was, we wouldn't have to spend time and money running unnecessary tests." mother urged.  "Well " Ace's mom started reluctantly "someone might have dropped some pot" .
At the news,  mother gave a knowing nod.  "In that case, Ace will need to have some activated charcoal and  intravenous fluids, and he should be back to his old self in no time.  Depending on how much he ate, there is a risk of seizures, so we should keep him for the day." mother quickly summarized.
Ace got the apartment above ours.  He had to have a tube put into his mouth with black liquid pumped in, along with the standard tube-in-the-arm treatment.  I could hear him stumbling and snoring for most of the day.  By the afternoon, his pleasantly mellow attitude had begun to fade and when mother went by the apartment to check on him, Ace lunged at the door.  He stayed snarling that way until his mom arrived.  "Oh my boy is back!" she squealed with delight, on seeing him.
I have to admit that I liked Ace better when he got into the pot.  I hope when they take him home, that they put him back in for awhile.