After only two and half hours at the doctor, 3 new bottles of pills, and $300 later,
I'm back at home.
Me? I'm a-okay, never been better. It's poor Harlow who is the one under the weather. As of today, he's on the Magic Johnson pill regimen. The vet gave me over six different pills to nurse him back to health. Six! That's a lot of meat slices I'm going to have to go through- especially because I give myself a slice every time he gets one (no one likes to eat alone.)
It all started yesterday afternoon when Har began hacking like an 80 year old smoker on an oxygen tank. I assumed he just had some bone stuck in his throat (is a "that's what she said" joke too easy here?) I thought so too. As the night wore on, his cough got worse and worse and eventually he started gagging up what dog's often gag up (white foam and yellow liquid.)
He would lay on the ground. Then jump to the bed. Back to the ground. Up on the bed. And every time in between he'd jump right on my head to make sure I knew he was awake. It was a long night. Eventually I made him a little bed on the couch. Which of course, he left the minute I left.
I was literally waiting for my alarm to go off at 7:30 a.m. so I could drive him to the vet. But that would be too easy. My car battery was dead. What is this the 90s? Am I 16? I didn't realize car batteries still died. In Nebraska, everyone has cables in their trunk and a jump is just a friendly stranger away. In Chicago? Doesn't seem to be the case..
Luckily, Neleigh is coming over tonight to lend her cables (she's from Nebraska obvi.)
So I started walking to the vet, which was roughly .5 miles away, so not a huge deal. I'm lazy, I know... I got inside, and like a frantic mother, started explaining to the staff about how sick my dog was and how last night he wouldn't stop coughing and puking and his head was spinning and he was writing demonic formulas on the wall... All the while Harlow is wagging his tail and smiling at the front desk girls like he doesn't know what I'm talking about. He can be such an asshole.
They showed me to a back room where I was to wait for the doctor. And only 2 hours later he showed up. Talk about service... But I was a walk-in, so don't worry, I wasn't super pushy about how long it took (as if I would ever do that anyway!)
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| Notice the lovely swipe of drool across my leg. Thanks Har. |
The doc took his temp (anally, of course.) Can you imagine if this was standard human procedure? I feel like I probably wouldn't have gone to the nurse in elementary nearly as much. And certainly not in high school.
He took an X-ray, took his blood pressure, asked him to cough twice, advised him on the HPV shot and then finally diagnosed him with bordetalla (not officially though) aka kennel cough. Which is ironic because Harlow doesn't go in a kennel, he doesn't get boarded, he doesn't share water bowls, so your guess is as good as mine where this so called doggy STD (Sniffing Transmitted Disease) came from.
After the X-rays, the antibiotics, the two hour visit itself, I was sent home with a $300 bill. Can I afford this? Nope, probably not. Did I pay it without batting an eye? Of course. Who wouldn't for a little guy like this?
