I went to the blogger meet up on Tuesday. I almost didn't make it because I overslept by about 4 hours. This month, the meet up was at the 75th Street Brewery. I'd never been there, so a new an exciting experience for me!
A lot of the familiar faces were there, then some folks I hadn't met. Also a couple of Twitter-ers that I really had no clue about. Twittering has become this big, huge thing. I don't Twitter that often, unless I'm at work and it's a slow night. Sorry, Twitter-peeps, if I didn't know who you were.
I came home and for whatever reason, I decided to check on Little Roo. She didn't seem quite herself before I left. I found her in the closet, covered in her own drool. Her eyes were not very bright, and when she walked, it was as though she were a drunkard. Alarmed, I called Mom.
Deciding to take her to the emergency vet's office, I loaded her in the carrier and Mom and I went up north to the ER vet there. I don't know of any late night vet service in my neighborhood, and I had taken pets to this place in the past. I like the vet there, it's what I know.
I'd be lying if I said that Mom and I weren't sniffling the entire drive there. I was prepared for the worst.
We get there, and a lady with a huge ladle on a stick is trying to get a urine sample from her greyhound. A man with a Russian accent is in the waiting area to hear word on his Schnauzer. The vet takes Roo and disappears into the back. Mom and I sit on one of the benches in the waiting area. The owner of the greyhound enters with her urine specimen. Everyone in the waiting area is red-eyed.
A tech appears with a box holding the Schnauzer. Apparently, it died. She apologizes and the Russian guy takes the box and disappears into the night. Me, Mom, and Greyhound lady simultaneously start bawling. The Emergency Vet Clinic is a depressing place.
The vet appears and asks me questions about Roo's diabetic regimen. Apparently, her blood sugar was really low, and that is why she was acting funny. He gave her some special canned food to bring her sugar up and told me that she could be not-diabetic anymore and might not need insulin. Whatever the case, he told me to not give her any more until I get her looked at by my regular vet.
In a nutshell, she was going to be okay for the time being. She's 14 years old, so I know that she is in the twilight of her life. However, I'd like to think that she's got a couple of good years left in her.
I'm not ready to say good-bye just yet.