Wednesday was “D Day” for Chorizo. By D Day I mean his “doodles detachment” day. I truly didn’t think we were going to be able to pull it off. Please pardon that horrible pun!
I awoke at around 6 a.m. to the sound of Chorizo throwing up under our bed. WTH??? I had very meticulously made certain that ALL food and water bowls were out of his reach, both his and the cats. I reminded everyone not to leave any leftover food on an end table or any where he could reach it. So what the heck could he be throwing up? You know they can’t do their surgery if they’ve had anything to eat or drink after midnight.
I jump out of bed to see if I can reach wherever he is. Our bed is a modified waterbed frame with a regular mattress in it. It has drawers underneath it so you can’t actually get underneath the bed, but, it has a built in book case at the head of the bed that extends about 8 inches outside the frame to the wall which leaves an opening about 8 square inches at floor level that runs along the wall at the headboard. Just big enough for the dog or cats to get in but not big enough for a human to get under. Yeah, that’s where he was and before I could grab some paper towels to try and grab whatever he just threw up, he ate it! Yes, as GROSS as that is, he ate it, but I guess it’s no worse than him eating his own poop or drinking his own pee which he also does! Still trying to break him of that one!
So, it’s 6 a.m. on the morning he’s supposed to have his surgery and he’s just eaten his own vomit. I have no idea what he ate or threw up or how much since I didn’t even get to see what it was before he gobbled it up. Hubby was like “Are we not going to be able to take him now?” I told him I was gonna take him anyway and just tell the vet what he did. I’m thinking he must have had some syrup of ipecac stowed somewhere that he drank to make himself throw up so he wouldn’t lose his little bumpy doodles. He was in desperation mode!
We had to have him at the shelter for the mobile vet by 8:30 so I didn’t bother going back to bed. I still don’t know what he got hold of but #3 had forgotten to shut her bedroom door so it’s hard to tell what he could have eaten. Plus the pantry door was partially open when I got up and we keep the onions on the floor in there and he’s fascinated by them even though they are not good for him and do make him throw up. When we got there it was funny because at first the vet didn’t recognize either hubby or I until he looked at Chorizo and then he was like “Oh, he’s back! I see he’s still hyperactive!” Yeah, we go from being our kids parents to being recognized as “Chorizo’s mommy and daddy”. **Shaking my head**
I asked him about being able to do the surgery with him throwing up and he said that he thought he’d be fine, he’d just do him last. I’m telling you I really like this vet. He saved us so much money, not to mention saving Chorizo’s life when he had pneumonia! He did his surgery, gave him the rest of his shots, wormed him, checked him for heartworms and gave us a 6 month supply of heartworm medicine and gave us extra pain medicine to take home and only charged $90! Our other vet would have charged us close to $200 for all that!
We had to go back and pick him up at 3 and when I walked up to tell the assistant who we were there for he heard my voice and started barking immediately. He was like ‘Get me out of here! These people stole my family jewels… You gotta pay whatever they want…just get ‘em back!” I told hubby I hated to tell him that I had to pay them to take them to begin with! I think that might have hurt his little feelings. #3 was disappointed that he didn’t seem drunk when we brought him home that the cats always were. She said that was the fun part, watching them stagger around. Such a sick child… but then again, she is ours, right?
He did pretty well considering what he went through and we take him back in two weeks to get his stitches out. The vet said I could probably do it myself but I said I’d rather have him do it. He was still walking around pretty well but having a really hard time trying to jump up on the sofa or walk down the one step to go outside. And he seemed very ginger about peeing afterwards. He’d poop with no problem but seemed like the peeing part really hurt him.
And hubby and I got a lot of mileage out of his situation. It was terrible to laugh at his situation but the jokes just kept coming. Thursday morning, the day after his surgery, a cold front had come through and it was frosty and cold as all get out. I took him outside to go to the bathroom and he went and ran straight for the door. He stood there and looked at me like “Dang! Open this door! I’m freezing my balls off out here! OMG!!! I really did! Seriously! Look, they’re GONE man!”
Hubby said “You’re gonna turn him from a Mexican to an Asian!” I said “What do you mean?” He said “He’s going from a Chiweenie to just a Cho”. I said “Well, technically he’s not losing his weenie so he’s still a chiweenie… we’re turning him into a homeless traveler…. He’s going from having gonads to being a NOnad (nomad…get it?)…” Well, lame joke but I thought it was funny.
But, for all the jokes, he did well and he got me back for making fun of him. He’s been doing so much better and he’s getting stronger all the time. Yesterday evening (Friday) he was feeling his usual frisky self. It was about 5 or 6 p.m. and I took him out back to go to the bathroom. He happened to hear Romeo, our neighbor’s dog barking inside their house and literally pulled me around to the front of the house. Unfortunately I had on those slick flip flops that I wear around the house and our front yard is very slanted and with the grass now dead for winter it is very slick. The combination of the flip flops and the dead grass is like being on an ice skating rink. He could hear Romeo barking hear the neighbor’s daughter standing out in the cul de sac talking to her boyfriend and he was pulling as hard as he could towards them. I tried my best to steer him to the walkway but he plunged right down the incline and took me right with him.
I tried to “plant” myself at the top of the knoll but honestly the only plant I resembled was Kudzu (otherwise known as mile a minute because it travels fast and covers everything in sight). I did manage to get my left foot planted which turned out to NOT be a good idea. My right foot shot out from under me and started sliding south at an alarming rate of speed. My left foot remained stationery but then my left knee gave way to the forces of nature acting upon it and then gravity and inertia took over.
Remember when you were little and you’d find a BIG hill and lay down at the top of it and then roll down the hill faster and faster to see if you could make it to the bottom? NO? You never played that game? Well, let’s just say if I’d been out there with a bunch of kids having a roll down the hill contest I’d have won, HANDS DOWN! I can only imagine how comical it must have looked to Kat and her boyfriend! I am SO glad we only have ONE neighbor! She yelled up to our house ‘WHAT are you doing?’ as she was laughing. I wanted to yell back “I just thought it looked like it would be really fun to roll down this here hill!” But I was too busy being embarrassed and trying to stop the full force roll I had going on!
By the time I stood up … okay CRAWLED and CLAWED my way back to a standing position I looked like a chia pet having a bad hair day! I was covered by loose dead grass (our lawn guy had just cut the grass earlier this week) and my hair was covering my face and standing up like Alfafa. I tried to brush myself off and play it off like nothing had happened and Chorizo is still pulling with all his might. I have no clue how I held onto the leash the whole time I was falling. He was straining against the leash as hard as he could to get to Kat. So I told her if she didn’t pet him he was going to go even more berserk.
I was really trying to ignore the fact that this 53 year old woman had just gotten rolled down a hill, literally, by a 10 pound puppy. I gingerly limped my way down the road to where they met me in the cul de sac. Kat looks at me and says “Are you sure you’re ok? What happened?” I said “(DUH) He pulled me down.” And she says “That little bitty thing?” Obviously she never tried to walk Chorizo or more correctly… had him walk her. I tried to think of a witty sarcastic comeback but I think I lost it along with my pride while I was doing the hill roll.
So this morning I was so sore I could hardly get out of bed. When I fell, I apparently fell on my knee (it’s got a nice little bruise on it) and then since my foot was still planted I ended up twisting my ankle and my knee and I guess my hip where your leg connects because my whole hip hurts too. I’ve got the whole ICE thing going on but I’m running out of ice packs. I’ve got one on my knee and ankle but not looking forward to sitting on an ice pack. I took some Tylenol and am trying to stay off my leg but you know it works. When you don’t need to be walking around you end up having to get up every 5 minutes for something.
So, Dr. Marseli, you are correct. He IS still hyperactive. And yes, Chorizo, you got the last laugh! Maybe I should change my blog name to “A Round Peg in a Square Hole” since I roll so well!