Jun. 4th, 2009

raybear: (Default)
I took Sophie to the vet today, she hasn’t been feeling well for almost 2 weeks, though its been mild enough to not seem critical until now. Yesterday I could see she’s visibly lost weigh, I can see ribs poking through and I thought back and couldn’t remember the last time she’d ate more than a biscuit or a few bites of canned food from her dish. Two days, maybe more. This morning I was woken up at 3 am by her yacking up bile, which has happened before when she’s been on hunger strike (usually stress induced) and in the past, I will feed her and she will eat immediately and then all is well. Today I made food that was 2/3 canned, 1/3 dry, which is a dog’s dream generally, and she ignored it. After getting off the phone with the vet, I poured myself a bowl of cereal and apiece fell on the floor and she sniffed it and ignored it. I was so glad to be getting a professional opinion and prescription drugs.

The exam didn’t yield any immediate answer, her energy has only been dampered, but she’s not lethargic or obviously hurting in anyway. They ran tests, I sat in the waiting room for 20 minutes waiting for them to get done, which means Sophie finally relaxed a little (“I guess this is how we live now”) and settled down onto the ground, in hunting dog repose (upright, but full belly pressed on the floor, head on the ground between the paws) while the vet sat on the couch next to me and talked about the abnormal blood test results that might indicate a problem with the liver. He was reasonable and not inflammatory, but still concerned. He laid out a couple options, let me pick one and supported me in it (treat the symptoms with antibiotics and antacids right away to get her eating again, come back in a week and draw blood again and perform a “bile test”). He said words like x-ray and ultrasound and “mass” on liver and I looked down at her by my feet and thought, no, not this year, not 2009, the year of Raymond’s grief, this is not the time, Sophie, for these such shenanigans. I blinked back the beginning of panic and misty-eyes and finished listening to him.

I came home and had to force feed the three tablets, even with peanut butter, but she was fairly amenable to being compelled to swallow. She rested for awhile, the vet stresses her out because its also where she gets boarded occasionally, I could tell she was relieved to be back home, stretched out on the futon. I worked on the computer for awhile, then boiled some chicken. She ate half of it, quickly, easily, so I fed her the other half and now I feel ok. She’s eaten. She will be ok.

May 2010

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