Thursday, 9 June 2011

Yet More Vetinary Drama

Picky, the oldest of the stray dogs at the park, has been sick for the past few days (though she had been wheezing occassioanlly for several weeks). This morning we went through the rigmarole of getting a diagnosis; sedating her, getting an X-ray done, letting the doctor examine her and give her a couple of shots. All this had to be done at the park and at a clinic across the street, which meant somebody (guess who?) having to carry her around on the shoulder (she's about 60 pounds), trying to roll her over for the vet and getting bitten for these troubles. The diagnosis is probable pneumonia, but we don't know whether it's bacterial or viral. The vet prescribed some medicine anyway, but I don't fancy trying to force that down her throat (we'll try mixing it in with her food of course). She was still in rude health a few weeks ago - so much so that she would sometimes jump with excitement to see me (and I'm not talking about standing on her hind legs, I'm talking about all four legs leaving the floor by a good 15-20 inches in mad pirouettes). At this point, though, with her having been skulking away under a bush for two or three days now, I'm not entirely confident. We'll have to wait and see.


  1. I have a kitten and know the sort of troubles you're going through.
    I suggest making sure you go to a vet who is modern enough to only prescribe powdered medication, as opposed to the pill kind. It is nearly impossible trying to force feed an animal (particularly a small animal who will cough it up, or a big animal, who will bite you). The vet we go to now provides powder for whatever Snowball happens to have. I simply sprinkle it in her wet food, mix it around with boiling water, and...voilĂ !

  2. I know - I've been given pills, but the chalky kind that can be crushed. I'm going to cook some chicken now with that in mind.

  3. Hope she gets better quickly, man!

  4. Well I'm a bit more optimistic now - she came trotting along out of her bush when she heard the rustle of the bag and me jabbering on about "dinner" and "chicken". She ate four or five chicken legs and a couple of extra bones besides those. That's a lot: I'd normally only give her two or three.

    That's good, but I had to hold B+W in check when Picky approached the water bowl... I made sure she was back under her bush before I left; a scrap over territorial dominance is the last thing she needs.


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