It started off on a high note as I drove my mom to Dulles on Monday to send off on her adventure to Antarctica. This is the sixth continent to which she has traveled; her final continent to visit is Europe, and I am sure this will happen in the not-too-distant future. This also means that we’ve got six dogs in the house for two weeks while we dog-sit my mom’s girl, Carmen.
Monday continued with a household repair. For a few weeks, we had been dealing with false alarms on our septic system, so that was taken care of Monday afternoon and all seems fine on that front. I lovingly think of that moment when the repairman left and I thought all was well with the world as the calm before the storm. After dinner, I went downstairs and discovered that the carpet in the basement was soaking wet…there was a leak and thankfully we caught it early on. The remainder of our evening was spent dealing with the water in our basement. What a mess.
As most people know, we have five miniature Dachshunds, three of whom are seniors. It is so difficult to watch them struggle with the cruel realities of aging. Gunni, whom we rescued at age 12 in 2009 is approaching her 16th birthday and we think she’s experiencing some senility and some arthritis. There are times when she seems lost and/or easily confused, which breaks our hearts to watch. I made an appointment with the person we consider to be the world’s greatest vet (details to be discussed in a future post) for Tuesday morning just for a check-up, and when Tuesday arrived, away we went to her appointment. The good news is that her issues seem to be age-related and nothing more serious. Dr. T. put her on a pain medication for thirty days and sent me home with instructions to monitor her and note any behavioral changes over that time frame. In the afternoon, a local company that I absolutely love came to determine the cause of the leak in the basement – clogged pipe due to sediment buildup – and took care of it in less than half an hour. This company is small and locally owned; two wonderful, hardworking men have done work for us before and we are always very pleased with the results. When I got out the checkbook, I was told, “Keep an eye on it and if we don’t hear from you, we’ll send you a bill in the mail. We don’t want you to pay until we know the repair took care of the problem.” That kind of customer service is rare and it is so nice to know that there are good, honest people in the world. If anyone local has any heating or cooling needs, send me a FB message and I will gladly refer you. I cannot say enough good things about them; I did not want to mention them by name without their permission.
Wednesday came along and I subbed in a reading resource room for the morning. I had a great time…each group of students was pleasant and cooperative. I was planning on a quiet afternoon hanging out with the dogs and watching old episodes of The Office. That plan went right out the window as soon as I got home. Maddy’s right eye was bright red and barely open and she seemed to be in a great deal of discomfort. I called the vet, and unfortunately, Dr. T. was not working, but luckily our second favorite vet, Dr. V., was working, so I loaded Maddy in the car and drove to Fairfax. A thorough exam and some investigative tests resulted in us heading home with two types of eyedrops, pain medication, and a diagnosis of an ulcer on her eye. I was assured the drops would help to heal her eye and she needed to come back for a check-up on Monday. The worst news of all, however, was that Maddy would be wearing The Cone of Shame until her next vet appointment…a situation she finds utterly humiliating. Needless to say, by this point, I was fairly frazzled and quite worried about two-fifths of my herd.
Lucky for me, I had dinner plans with three beloved friends and as usual, we shut down the restaurant. It closed at 10:00, the staff let us stay until 10:30, and we continued our conversation in the parking lot until 11:15, by which time, all of the restaurant staff had left for the night and the building was locked and dark. On my drive home I reflected on how important it is to have people in your life who accept you for who you are despite your crazy dog stories. I love these beautiful ladies more than they will ever know.
Thursday came and went with no trouble at all. I unwisely thought to myself that the streak of unfortunate events had reached its end.
Friday morning, I was up before 5:00 because I had to drop Duchess off at the vet at 6:30 for dental and then I was subbing in sixth grade for the day. Duchess will turn 17 in May, which is extremely elderly for such a little dog, but the surgery was necessary to hopefully alleviate some chronic sinus issues she has been dealing with. I worried about her all day, just hoping she would make it out of the surgery. I texted C constantly for updates; since he is able to take calls during the day and I cannot when I am subbing, he was the one chatting with Dr. T. and hearing about Duchess’s progress. Although I thought I would be able to pick her up right after school, they did not do her surgery until the afternoon, so we were told we could come at 8:00 as long as she was awake. In the meantime, two things happened: 1) we picked up C's car from the repair shop (it had been hit at the VRE station at the end of December, which is another long story – the good news is we only dealt with having one car for a total of two weeks and the repair shop did a phenomenal job); and 2) my dad arrived from Pennsylvania for the weekend. So we picked up the car, called the vet, and were told Duchess wasn’t awake yet so she definitely could not go home at 8:00. My dad arrived, we went to dinner, and checked yet again on Duchess. They told us she was finally awake and we could come and get her at 10:00. She was so sleepy when we got there, but we did not want to leave her there overnight; I had been sick with worry all day and just wanted to have her home with us. Clearly all of these events made for an extremely long day.
Saturday afternoon, we looked at Maddy’s eye and something did not seem quite right. So, you guessed it, back to the vet we went. The good news is that her eye is healing and we just need to continue with the drops, the meds, and The Cone. By now, the island in our kitchen looked like a pharmacy, as three-fifths of the herd was on medication. Many medications.
Saturday evening, my dad headed to my brother’s house in Maryland, so finally all was quiet and still, all dogs were home, and things seemed to have finally returned to normal. Sunday was blissfully boring while the best husband ever got up with the pack, fed them, doled out meds, and let me sleep in until noon with Gunni. What would I do without him?!?
We arrived at Sunday night and were heading up to bed when the unthinkable happened. I was carrying Duchess, who does not walk very well when she is NOT medicated, and before I knew what was happening, Carmen attacked Gunni when I wasn’t looking. While I am not certain about what triggered the altercation, I suspect Gunni wandered a little too close to Carmen without realizing it and Carmen reacted out of fear. She is also a rescue dog and suffered through abuse before my mom adopted her; she is a timid and territorial dog, but generally very well-behaved. Let me explain that she is a Doxador (Dachshund-Lab mix…don’t ask; we don’t know how that happened either!), so she is not a large dog, but certainly bigger than little old frail Gunni. Obviously I separated them immediately and looked Gunni over for injuries. Unfortunately, we found some bite wounds on Gunni’s throat that were bleeding. We checked Carmen over as well, who was terrified and slinking around and clearly sorry for what she had done, but physically she was fine. So we got the others situated, put Gunni in the car, and went to the vet. Again. If you are keeping track, that was my sixth trip to the vet since this story began! The reason we drive the 30 minutes instead of going to a vet closer to our house (aside from the fact that Dr. T. works there, which is the main reason!) is that they offer 24-hour emergency service. Gunni was taken in right away and the vet (not one of our two favorites, but wonderful nonetheless) came to speak with us about keeping Gunni overnight to address the wounds. She said we would be able to come and pick her up first thing this morning before work (I subbed in fifth grade today), which we did, and she is on the mend and now on even more medication. One thing that touched my heart was the worry that Ginny (4 years old) showed when we returned home at midnight without Gunni. We call Gunni “Big G” and Ginny “Little G” (based solely on their ages) and they love to curl up together whenever they sleep. Ginny was beside herself without Gunni. She was so relieved when we brought her home this morning. What a sweetheart.
So yes, friends, seven trips to the vet in seven days. Don’t ask about the hit our bank account has taken as a result of those trips. However, the only thing that matters is now everyone is safe and happy and at home. There are no lengths to which we will not go for our dogs. I know my fellow dog lovers will understand and appreciate the absurdity of this post. J
Looking ahead, it’s a new week and it will undoubtedly be less challenging! Perhaps I’ll even have cute dog stories to share next time I write!
Happy Tails to you!
