January 6, 2011

12

Threesome, minus two

I took this photo of Rennie nine days ago and I love it for various reasons, the primary one being that it shows how comfortable he is at my parents’ house, off the road and away from constant change— a warm, safe place where there are familiar faces, loving hands and gloriously large sunspots. I also like the way it’s shot through the blinds on the window, voyeuristically catching him in a very rare state of utter relaxation, when he is not either sitting upright, his butt hovering just above the ground as he sniffs the air, ever vigilant against possible enemy forces, or curled into a ball, wrapped around himself in a tight knot of taut muscle. Rather, he is sprawled out, totally caught off guard and at peace.

I also like this photo, because it shows the cushion he is sleeping on in its whole, entire state, before he took a bite out of it. And another bite. And a few more bites, until he damn near emptied the thing of its stuffing and ingested a few chunks of foam, while he was at it. I’ll skip all the preliminary retching at dawn and frenzied grazing on grass that he was doing earlier this week, and cut right to the projectile vomiting that my sister had to clean up, while I was doing some of my Atlanta visits. I was super incognito, flying solo without my team: I had borrowed my mom’s car so that Roxanne could stay behind and go to the garage for a check-up, and then my dad had convinced me to leave Rennie with them for the six days that I would be away.

Forty-eight hours later, my sister had made an emergency appointment with the veterinarian, and I was driving the hour and a half back to Athens to meet them there, all the while trying to push awful thoughts out of my mind. It was a logical conclusion that several days after having destroyed his cushion, all of this vomiting and malaise was a direct result of that. But there was the underlying, nagging reality that he had been losing weight recently— and that no matter how much expensive food I gave him, his ribs were still showing. And so when my sister called me from inside the exam room to see if he had ever had any X-rays or blood work done, it started to sound worse than an obstructed intestine. It started to sound like some violently invasive thing that was about to completely take over. It started to sound like cancer.

It wasn’t. Not at first glance, at least. I got there in time to see him before he was put under and the operation began, and the vet (the same one who took me through all that mess with Pedro) showed me his slides and explained that it was probably a blockage in his small intestine and that, provided there had been no perforation, it was going to be a fairly straightforward procedure. Three hours later, she called to say that he was awake again and stabilized, and that they had indeed found a large, foreign body of nastiness, presumably upholstery foam, and that she had been able to examine his organs while she was in there and that there was nothing visibly wrong with any of them, and that she had also been able to get some good biopsy samples, so that maybe we can figure out if he has an allergy or an auto-immune disorder of some sort to explain what is going on with his digestion.

And so, I am home again, passing some more time at my parents’ house and trying to nurse my team back to health. Rennie is receiving visitors until 5 o’ clock today, so I am going to go see him in just a little bit, and if all goes well, he will be released tomorrow night. Then we’ll see about getting him and Roxanne strong again, because sometimes, while you might think you have slowed down, you find out that you can slow down even more, and so you do, because there is no use fighting it.

Share
12 Comments Post a comment
  1. Amanda
    Jan 6 2011

    So glad Rennie is on the mend! Way to go Aunt Hils!

    Reply
  2. SirenaSteve
    Jan 6 2011

    Are you projecting your inner thoughts (“comfortable… off the road and away from constant change”) into the dog again?

    Can’t wait to see you all in a week!

    Reply
    • Jan 7 2011

      Nice theory, Steve, but no, I am not. Rennie has had many long chats with me about his desire to settle down one day. I, on the other hand, am a born rambler.

      Reply
  3. Mindy
    Jan 6 2011

    Poor sweet boy. I thought of him this morning when I was out walking Boris. Hope he (and you and Roxanne!) are all better soon.

    Reply
    • Mindy
      Jan 6 2011

      Grammar OCD takes over, hope he IS all better soon.

      Reply
  4. Jan 6 2011

    oh margaret, i am so sorry to hear that sweet rennie has gone through this. grateful he’s on the mend. one of the few doggies in my life i have felt a connection with. such a beautiful soul. he’s so lucky to have you as a mama! sending lots of love & healing vibes for you & rennie.

    Reply
  5. Leigh
    Jan 6 2011

    Oh, Rennie! I’m glad he’s on the mend…

    Reply
  6. Mary Anne
    Jan 6 2011

    Margaret, sorry you are having to go through this with Rennie. :-(

    I hope all will be well in a few days.

    Cheers,
    Mary Anne

    BTW, thanks again from Ed and me for the great supper.

    Reply
  7. Jan 7 2011

    Thank you, everyone, for the sweet words of sympathy and encouragement. I visited Rennie yesterday at the hospital and he is on the mend, it seems. If all goes well, I will have him back tonight. Little stinker. And yes, Aunt Hils definitely acted quickly and saved the day, as well as a life.

    Reply

Trackbacks & Pingbacks

  1. My insanely bad luck with animals | Flit Flitter
  2. Stop trying so hard | Flit Flitter

Share your thoughts, post a comment.

(required)
(required)

Note: HTML is allowed. Your email address will never be published.

Subscribe to comments