Two-fifteen in the morning, and here we are attending to a sick dog for the third time tonight. Poor little Ruby is ailing…has been for some days. And now she’s developed doggy diarrhea! Wants to go outside about every ten minutes. Or so it feels.
In fact, it’s more like about once every two hours. But since I’m sick as a dawg myself…Helle’s Belles! It ain’t good.
Suspect this is a function of the drugs the vet gave us. Tomorrow we’ll have to drag her back to his office. And that is MORE than “not good.”
Because…my son having purloined my car, I can’t haul her to the vet! He’ll have to take time off his (demanding!) job to drive the dog and me around.
And that is about as not good as it gets.
Meanwhile, I’m pretty sick myself. Whatever is causing this horrible peripheral neuropathy can’t possibly be good. It hurts, and it makes my ears feel like an air-raid siren is going off in my head.
Welp…the little dog is back on the bed and conkered out. Better try to join her!