A few days ago, Patty decided to snack on her bedding, a towel.  Towels aren’t digested quickly or easily even by Bull Terriers.  By Sunday, she was quite ill and so we took the run to the only available weekend emergency vet.  When he couldn’t tell what organs he was looking at on her x-rays, we decided against the $4400.00 barium test of which they wanted half right then.  We also decided against their $7800.00 exploratory surgery where they wanted half of that, and signed Patty out AMA. 

     Don’t get me wrong, I love my dogs and will do anything for them, but I had no confidence in this man.  After we sat there for four hours and he harangued us several times about what irresponsible pet owners we’d be if we left, I figured we’d better leave before I decked him.  By that time, my vet would be in his office in only a matter of a couple of hours and he knows my dogs.  Patty was not showing any real signs of pain she was more stressed out by the vet than by anything else.  Every time he’d walk back into the room, she’d dive and hide under Dear Hubby’s chair.  She doesn’t do that with our vet.

     The emergency vet’s office faxed everything over to my vet’s.  I called my vet the instant his office opened.  They know me, they know my experience as a former vet tech, and as I said before, they know my dogs.  My vet’s opinion was to keep an eye on her and if she showed any distress bring her in.  Poor Patty, all she wanted to do was sleep by then. 

     She and I spent the rest of the day dozing together on my chair and checking in periodically with my vet’s office.  I coaxed some beef broth down her a few times to keep her hydrated and allowed her stomach to settle.  She ate a very light dinner of hamburger and rice.  This morning she was hungry and ate a light breakfast.  Then she wanted dinner around five this evening.  Soon after that, she passed the offending piece of towel.  Then she raced about the yard back to her old self.

She started trying to mooch our food today so I take that as a good sign.  We are not certain that all is well yet.  She hadn’t eaten since Saturday morning and so far, today she did keep down beef broth and some hamburger and rice.  However, the night isn’t over yet and I’m staying up again to keep and eye on her.

Our vet talked to me this morning and wasn’t overly concerned.  I do trust our vet more than the emergency vet we saw Sunday night.  Who, when he was showing us her x-rays, said, “I think that’s her stomach…”  Saying something like that to me doesn’t instill a great deal of confidence on my part.

(Someone asked me if I was ever going to do more Malcolm’s Mayhem stories.  So I thought I’d post another one tonight.)

     There is no such thing as an indestructible toy.  It’s true, I speak from experience, Bull Terrier ownership, and I have the vet bills to prove it.  There is no toy made that a BT can’t destroy in minutes. 

     Dear hubby came home with a large rubber toy one day.  The labeling on the box claimed it to be made of indestructible English rubber.  He was excited to have found a toy that Malcolm couldn’t destroy.  Me, well I was skeptical about the whole deal.  I’d seen him pop a professional basketball in two seconds.  This dog thought a bowling ball was a chew toy.

     Therefore, I made a bet with DH.  If Malcolm didn’t destroy the toy, I’d wash his truck.  If he did destroy it, DH owed me a dinner out at the restaurant of my choice.  He pulled the toy from its box with a flourish.  Malcolm danced around him giving him gimme, gimme barks.  DH tossed the toy into the air.  Malcolm caught it, and took off like a shot.

     Five minutes later, I was getting dressed to go out dinner.  DH was cleaning up little pieces of indestructible English rubber.  Dang, I loved that dog!