Little Dog barfed and had diarrhea this morning. Then, she fell on the bed like she was dying. And yes, I freaked out, and called the vet. The vet said not to feed her for 24 hours but that’s not going to work with an 18 year old, 11 pound dog. She’ll be dead by morning. So, I cooked some rice and gave her a couple of handfuls of that with chicken broth. She’s better and was angry she didn’t get her regular dinner. She stood in the kitchen, staring at me like, “Did ya forget something? Did ya? Did ya? Did ya now?”
The vet changed all Little Dog’s meds too. I now have a salve to put on the dog’s arse. It takes two of us to do this. The dog may be old but she’s still strong (and has a few teeth left) and doesn’t appreciate two buffoons fiddling with her rear end. The indignity of it all. For her. And us. And anyone reading this blog. Which means you.