Saturday Morning Surprise

After morning coffee, I came home around 9:30am. When I opened the door, the smell hit me first.

Sam was crouched in the corner of his kennel, the most foul smell emitting from it, his bed, and himself. It was hideous. There's only two words for the horror that greeted me when I looked inside the kennel.

Explosive diarrhea.

The last time this happened was when I unwittingly gave him some popcorn a year or so ago. Never, ever give a dog popcorn. Trust me.

So, I took him out of his kennel and put him outside on the patio. I then took his dog bed, tossed it in three garbage bags. Took a half a can of Scrubbing Bubbles and cleaned out the kennel, followed by a nice coating of Lysol.

Kennel cleaned, I retrieved Sam from the patio, and tossed him into a tub full of warm water, soaped him up in cherry blossom scented soap, and rinsed him off. Tried to towel dry him before he took off, shaking water all over the apartment. George was not impressed. Then, I noticed it.

Sam was bleeding...out of his butt. Could this morning possibly get any worse?

I don't know much about veterinary medicine, but I know that in people medicine, bleeding out of your toot-hole is never, ever a good thing. I called the vet's office and explained the situation, they told me to bring the dog in...and could I get a small stool sample?

So, I did. Armed with a wet dog and a baggie containing the foulest smelling shit on the planet, I sped to the vet.

They ran the stool sample and determined he wasn't carting around parasites. Colitis, they told me. After some quick calculations, some turkey bones and skins the little shithead managed to get into Thursday night was the likely culprit. Awesome.

An office visit of no more than 30 minutes, two prescriptions for antibiotics and anti-inflammatories, and I'm out $100.

Now, he doesn't appear to bleeding as much. I've managed to cram two pills down his throat. Why couldn't they make them peanut butter flavored? It's now 11:20am. I'm supposed to work tonight, but I'm seriously considering calling in. Who can sleep with these circumstances!

So, now I have two special-needs pets. I have a cat who gets a plugged-up peehole, and a dog with colitis. All I need is a fish with an under bite, a blind guinea pig, and a retarded parrot and I've got the makings of a telethon.

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