Our Pet, A Member of the Family

The Day We Almost Lost Our Pooch

Our pet dog is a long time member of the family. He is eighteen-and-one-half years old.
Poor guy he can’t see of hear any longer. 

He sleeps a lot and wants to wee often in between to receive his treat.

A few days ago he was resting, sleeping on his side, when suddenly he let out a scream as if something was attacking him. He jerked, his legs stretched out and went stiff. He lay there as if dead. Carol panicked and stroked him on the floor. There was no response. She sobbed. 

The rush to the vet, about three miles from home, provided time for much consternation, kissing the dog, and crying. I kept the peddle pushed.

When we entered the vet’s office the lady behind the counter saw the distress on our faces and came running to our aid. She interrupted her conversation with another customer at the counter and took the dog from Carol’s arms and rushed him to see the doctor.

We sat down to get ourselves ready for the bad news.

The kind folks at the counter tried to give us some comforting words while we waited. 

Soon an elderly couple walked in. The elderly lady carried a black poodle in her arms. It trembled as its tongue loosely hung from the mouth. The elderly man followed her and placed a small cage on the floor of the waiting room. The cage contained a cat. The poor cat laid sprawled and moaned like a small child. The attendant took both to the rear of the clinic.

A large dog on a leash pranced in. He needed his shots. To the owner’s surprise, the dog had also gained ten pounds in the last three month. The sad result, he was put a a diet. Good thing he didn’t understand the conversation.

Another couple came in with one small dog each. The conversation revealed that they were the proud caretakers of five dogs, all rescued from the needle of death at the pound. The frisky little mutt in the man’s lap had on a jacket that said, “Local Bad Boy.” The dog himself only weight five pounds. The lady held her pooch, a female, a diabetic, with a pink cape on her back stating, “Mama’s Baby.” The pet needs two shots a day, she told us. She came in to have her sugar level checked.

Suddenly we heard a jap! . . . Jap . . . Jap jap! Mr. “S” our old warrior had revived, sending a signal throughout the clinic stating that, “I an’t done here yet.” We rejoiced. Our heats soared. 

We agreed to have his blood tested in search of a possible cause. The results were negative. Our guy had a seizure. Not too uncommon at his age.

The old couple, who brought in the poodle and the cat returned. Soon the Veterinarian entered the waiting room with two black, strapped shut satchels. The elderly couple sadly accepted one each. Out the door they stumbled. The doctor watched them go and enter their vehicle. The doctor took a deep breath and said, “I have never gotten used to this.” She stood there a while, obviously distraught, making sure the elderly couple was all right to drive away.

Life goes on, even in the world of pets.