Saturday, August 9, 2014

Quiet House

I brought Rascal to the vet this morning. I've been anxious about him since yesterday morning. He was fine first thing yesterday, and we went out for a short walk. He came home and settled onto his bed, but after an hour, he woke up coughing and swallowing, as if he had something caught in his throat. He eventually settled down, but by the evening, he wouldn't eat or drink, and was lethargic and glassy-eyed. I brought him outside to go pee before bed, and he walked unsteadily back to the house, wavering back and forth, until I picked him up and carried him in.

I heard him moving around a bit in the middle of the night, so I carried him downstairs to see if he would drink any water. He wasn't very responsive, even after I managed to syringe a little bit into his mouth and made sure he swallowed it. Afterward, I carried him back up to bed, then came back down to the couch and sat down. My stomach was in knots, and my throat was tight. I picked up my knitting and worked through a few rows with the laptop on my lap. I searched through patterns online in between rows, trying to distract myself from the fear and sadness.

He's at the vet now, getting IV fluids to rehydrate him and meds to reduce a high temperature, an x-ray for his laboured breathing, and a blood test to see what the rest of his organs are doing. Today is one of those rare days when I want to do the chores: iron my shirts, wash the floors, do the dusting... anything and everything to keep my mind distracted.

Today, my yarn is not necessarily a comfort. It is an act of motion to keep my mind distracted, to allay my fears just a little bit. I am knitting to slow my breathing, to focus my mind, and to ease the guilt of the thoughts of how much easier life would be without a dog... the places we'd be allowed to stay, the events we'd go to...

But it would be a life without my little teddy bear.

I know he's just a dog, and that life is supposed to end sometime, but I don't care about anyone's philosophies right now. I don't want anyone's platitudes about the rainbow bridge or the end of journeys or any of that. He's my Rascal, and I want him to feel better. That's all.



5 comments:

  1. I don't know what to say. I am sorry you all have to go through this.
    I wish healing and happiness for you.

    Just know that we're all pulling for Rascal.

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  2. I can sympathize. I had rabbits growing up. Shortly after we adopted a new baby bunny, I dropped the poor thing on the carpeting. He landed on his feet but ended up breaking his back... The next morning his back legs were paralyzed and as a twelve year old I went to the very with my dad to put him down. I was devastated.
    More recently our cat went missing for a week. I'm not a car person by any stretch of the imagination but I was just sadder the whole time she was gone. My husband and I were convinced she had been hit by a truck and gone. (She showed up again and had been staying a lot closer to home lately.)

    I hope things get better for Rascal. If not, I hope you're able to find out what's wrong so you can better ease his suffering.

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  3. THINKING OF ALL LOTS.

    REX & noreen

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