Now It's Rocky Friday ...
Thank you to everyone who wrote expressing concern about poor GB, who swallowed two large rocks last weekend and had emergency surgery on Monday to remove the larger one. (He threw up the 2-inch rock on my bedroom floor Sunday night.)
GB developed pneumonia from aspirating fluid into his lungs, and his esophagus is also damaged by the rocks and the attempts to get rid of them, so he is still at the vet. His doctor has treated him with cortisone and also antibiotics.
At first, we thought he would be home in a day or two, so when the vet said, "You can visit him," I said no, because I thought GB would think I was there to take him home and it would be tougher for him to have to stay.
But after three days of phone reports, I couldn't stand it, so I stopped by to see him yesterday.
They had him in a run, with blankets on the floor, and an IV in his right front leg for fluids. He hadn't been eating, but they gave him 2 tablespoons of food yesterday and he kept that down. I think that was the first food he'd had since this whole drama began on Sunday.
So I went into his run with him and sat down on the floor to cuddle him, and the pooch, all 70 pounds of him, crawled on my lap. He needed a hug. So I sat there stroking him as he wheezed and heaved, just kind of spasms at this point.
Talked to his vet, and asked the Big Question, "So, he will get better, right?" To be told, "Well, pneumonia is pretty serious."
Came home and hung out with Constant (Connie), my dog, for the rest of the day. Connie is not quite sure what is going on, he seems to be missing GB, and I can't explain it to him, obviously.
Here's a link to a post that a reader sent. It falls into several categories: humor, skin cancer, and also "dogs who eat things they shouldn't":
Her tombstone will read WAS SOLD TO BUTCHER
See also:
@ Jeanne Sather 2008.
