I can't escape it. It's just one of those things that once noticed, will not go away. I probably don't even have to say the word and you know what it is. Though before we get to that, we have to start at the beginning.
Bella was sick over the weekend. Friday night, downstairs in the basement, her and I were hanging out. I was on the phone with my mom when Bella got out of my sight and I heard the noise that all dog owners have heard. It started quiet, then got progressively louder, that regurgitating sound from their stomachs. She let loose with one large pile of undigested food. "Mom, gotta go. Bella's throwing up," I said into my cellphone and ended the call. "Chassie! She puked!" I yelled, as I grabbed Bella and pulled her away from the pile before she could get to eating it. She looked up at me, wondering why I was taking her away from her food. I pushed her towards the door, got her leash on her and stepped outside while Chassie came downstairs to assess the damage.
Chassie made quick work of cleaning up the mess as I kept Bella outside. After she pooped, we went back in and Chassie said that maybe she had just eaten too much. She had loaded her up with treats in hope that she would stop eating the baseboards and had also given her a cup and a half of food. Maybe her six month old stomach just couldn't handle that much food.
Nineteen minutes later, as I sat on the futon comforting her, she runs away from me. She jumps up on the vintage 1970's couch and proceeds to lose her dinner all over one of the cushions. I rush over and take her back outside, yelling for Chassie again. We get back inside and I call my mom back, explaining the situation.
The next morning, Chassie notes that her poop is a little loose. I take her on a walk before I head out to work and she seems to be acting normal. Before I leave, Chassie says that she's going to be going out for a while and asks if Bella will be okay for a few hours. I respond that I think she will. She returns home shortly after one o'clock. Chassie will be able to tell you better than I as to what happened next, since she was on the front line for this one, but here is my account:
The first phone call came around 1:15. The poop was loose. What should we do? We talked it over and decided to wait it out. It got worse. A barrage of text messages kept me updated. At one point, her text was: "She's lying down watching TV. Is that normal?" For Bella, if she's not chewing on something or sleeping, that's pretty normal. Then after that one came a picture mail showing "translucent poop." You may ask what translucent poop looks like... I couldn't tell you. I stared at the picture on my phone for at least forty seconds, even turning the phone around, trying to figure out exactly what I was looking at. If she hadn't titled the message "translucent poop" I would have no idea what I was looking out.
I know Chassie is worried at this point. I'm staying calm, I have work to keep me occupied. At two o'clock, I ask her to find out what time the vet closes on Saturdays. She responds that they are open until five. I'm thinking that we may have to make a visit and we should have time to make it to our regular vet without having to go to the emergency vet. Around two fifteen, she texts me that the poop has now become a "'lil bloody." That makes up my mind for me. I call her and tell her we should go to the vet. She calls the vet and finds out that he was thinking of closing early since it was Easter weekend, but that if she's coming in now, he will wait.
At this point, we are closing in on two thirty. If I go back home, it's going to take me at least fifteen minutes. Then we'd have to turn around and drive back to Fairfax, probably another thirty minutes. Chassie decides that she'll take Bella herself and I'll meet them at the vet. This was the first solo trip with Bella in the car (besides my poor attempt at taking her to the vet for surgery.) A brave endeavor under normal circumstances, an insane venture currently.
She makes it to the vet without any issues. While inside the vet, things got a little interesting. I should have known something was up when the lady at the desk said they were in the second exam room. I don't know if it was before or after the vet stuck the thermometer up her butt, but exam room one was no longer available after Bella spent a few minutes in there. "There was poop everywhere," Chassie said. I imagined that the floor was covered, the walls had splatter on them, and there was poop dripping off the examination table. A little exaggerated, but I've seen this girl poop. It turns out there were three messy piles that the vet and the vet tech examined and then cleaned up.
I arrived in time to miss the festivities, but just in time to pay the bill. The vet tech said that she may have a few more accidents before the evening was done and the medicine they gave her fully kicked in. It turns out she was experiencing some type of pancreatitis. The vet said it was a good thing Chassie brought her in because it would have only gotten worse. She got three shots, three types of pills and three cans of special dog food. We were told not to give her any food or water for the rest of the day and training class was out of the question.
As we make our way back to the car, we decide that since Chassie was able to make it to the vet without an incident, we may as well risk it again and send her back home by herself. I wait outside the car as Chassie buckles Bella into the dog restraining seat belt and we're off. I go back to work to close and Chassie is headed back home. On the way home, it seems Bella was somehow able to escape the restraints and forced Chassie to pull off into a gravel parking lot in downtown Fairfax to rebuckle the seat belt.
Once I returned home, she pooped three times about an hour apart. In between those she laid underneath a table as I sat next to her on the floor. She had sleepy, sad eyes but only fell asleep for about twenty minutes. After her third poop, she was able to fall asleep. And sleep she did. The only time she got up was to go outside and pee. Chassie kept asking if she was going to be okay, which I assured her she would. She asked if I was worried, to which I said I wasn't. Quite honestly, it may have been the nicest night I've had in a long time. She wasn't running around, she wasn't chewing everything she could fit in her mouth, she didn't eat mulch when she was outside. It was almost like she was an older dog. I can't wait for that to become a nightly occurrence.
So we've had two of these situations, both very similar and both related to one thing: Food. Specifically one brand, the same brand we had tried the first time this happened. Chassie wanted to try the food again because she had read such good things about it and really liked the ingredients used and whatever else. For some reason, Bella does not like that food. Therefore, she will not be getting it anymore... ever.
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