Wednesday, 4 May 2011
Happiness is a hungry dog
Argh. What a weekend. Some brilliant things ...
But Troy stops eating. He lies in a sun patch and shivers. He can't move more than a few yards without being exhausted. I'd always said "I'll know when he's dying because he'll stop eating." Well, he has done now. Not even Thai chicken or cocktail sausages will pass his lips.
Hardass smutwriter falls to bits and blubs.
On Monday (it had to be a holiday Monday, didn't it? Dogs are never ill on the cheap.) we get him to the vet and it turned out he has "the temperature from hell," and that his racing heartbeat does not match his femoral pulse. The vet says, "This is actually very interesting. Unfortunately, in medical terms 'very interesting' is a Bad Thing. Really you're better off being as boring as possible."
Cue one enormous shot of antibiotics and another of anti-inflamatory painkiller. We've got no idea what's going on but we need to tackle that temperature.
By the next morning Troy's asking for food. Today he has an ECG to see what's up with his heart and it turns out - nothing. He's fine.
Happiness, I find, is a dog who wants to eat.