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dog 'mergency
Sep. 4th, 2007 12:46 pmA few people know that I'm stressed right now because of my dogs. Yesterday was cleaning day - the grand reshuffle of "important stuff" from one end of the house to the other, and up and down between levels. Books, movies, dog stuff, artwork - of the large and small varieties and the great big "etc.".
In the shuffle, one of my dogs, Spirit, my big brindle boy greyhound, got ahold of a bag of rimidyl (a fairly strong veterinary painkiller), left over from Stelle's (the little black girl grey) corn surgery. I *know it was him because he counter surfs and gets in the garbage can if he can. Stelle is civilized and wouldn’t eat garbage if someone offered her a Cartier collar and a lifetime supply of rawhide chewies. He ate everything in the bag - my estimate was about 40 but I can't say for sure. I called the emergency vet and was directed to the ASPCA's animal poison control center (yes, they have one - use it, if you need!) they told me to give him 3 TBS of hydrogen peroxide (H2O2) to make him vomit, along with some food so he'd have something to throw up and, if needed, in case it didn't work, to repeat. Of course, just after I hung up, I realized that I finished up the bottle of H2O2 on the same dog’s leg the week before. Dane, my hero, ran out to the store and bought some for me. I gave Spirit 6 TBS of the stuff and it didn’t work, called back and they sent me to the vet – at 7pm on $abor $ay with the admonition that just because I *know that Stelle didn’t eat any of it, I didn’t actually know and it could be a good idea to have her treated, too.
Thus I trucked off with the dogs to the animal ER and they were whisked away while I filled out paperwork and offered up my firstborn on my Visa. I parked my butt on a surprisingly comfortable, albeit peeling, ugly-blue vinyl 70’s style sofa. Then I waited.
And waited.
A bent-over elderly couple came in with their tiny dog wrapped in a towel, comatose. The lady was crying and the gentleman didn’t seem really happy either. Again, the dog was whisked away and they sat for awhile before being taken in. IMHO, Suzette was a goner.
Then another couple came in, senza animal, to check on their cat, who they had brought in earlier. I think they are a cats-not-kids family and were terrified of losing their baby. We talked about cats and dogs – greyhounds seem to fascinate everyone so we spent a long time discussing my pair and the breed in general. Finally, I was given an update – the dogs were still vomiting, yes, Mrs. YesThatReallyIsMyNameSoShutUp, that is good, no, I don’t know what was found.
More waiting.
Man, an emergency vet is a sucky place to be for an animal lover, however, I had a book and the nice couple who were still waiting for their baby to chat with.
I spoke with the vet twice, once to get the whole story and hear about the vomit (yeah, they searched it – hers was mostly foody, his was mostly stuff that wasn’t food, since we didn’t feed him.) Then, she gave me the treatment spiel – overnight, 24-48 hours, stuff to prevent ulcers (the drug does that) other stuff to soak up the rest of what is in their systems (even hers, since she got her tummy emptied) and IV’s for both for a minimum of 24 hours to keep the kidneys functioning at a super high level and clean everything out so none of the drug had a chance to do any damage. And the bill, which I needed to pay the low estimate of before I could leave the building. $1,500. Yeah.
Of course, I forked it over and left. This morning, they were awake and resting comfortably, having gone potty *a lot, which is GOOD. They ate breakfast and went for a short walk before being transported to the other office where they would spend the day and tonight. At 5, they were resting but doing “just fine” (greyhounds do that a lot) and off the IV for a little while so the vet can check their renal values tonight at 8 (the big worry is that the drug would cause kidney failure).
Assuming that all is well tonight, they’ll come home tomorrow after I get them out of hock.
In the shuffle, one of my dogs, Spirit, my big brindle boy greyhound, got ahold of a bag of rimidyl (a fairly strong veterinary painkiller), left over from Stelle's (the little black girl grey) corn surgery. I *know it was him because he counter surfs and gets in the garbage can if he can. Stelle is civilized and wouldn’t eat garbage if someone offered her a Cartier collar and a lifetime supply of rawhide chewies. He ate everything in the bag - my estimate was about 40 but I can't say for sure. I called the emergency vet and was directed to the ASPCA's animal poison control center (yes, they have one - use it, if you need!) they told me to give him 3 TBS of hydrogen peroxide (H2O2) to make him vomit, along with some food so he'd have something to throw up and, if needed, in case it didn't work, to repeat. Of course, just after I hung up, I realized that I finished up the bottle of H2O2 on the same dog’s leg the week before. Dane, my hero, ran out to the store and bought some for me. I gave Spirit 6 TBS of the stuff and it didn’t work, called back and they sent me to the vet – at 7pm on $abor $ay with the admonition that just because I *know that Stelle didn’t eat any of it, I didn’t actually know and it could be a good idea to have her treated, too.
Thus I trucked off with the dogs to the animal ER and they were whisked away while I filled out paperwork and offered up my firstborn on my Visa. I parked my butt on a surprisingly comfortable, albeit peeling, ugly-blue vinyl 70’s style sofa. Then I waited.
And waited.
A bent-over elderly couple came in with their tiny dog wrapped in a towel, comatose. The lady was crying and the gentleman didn’t seem really happy either. Again, the dog was whisked away and they sat for awhile before being taken in. IMHO, Suzette was a goner.
Then another couple came in, senza animal, to check on their cat, who they had brought in earlier. I think they are a cats-not-kids family and were terrified of losing their baby. We talked about cats and dogs – greyhounds seem to fascinate everyone so we spent a long time discussing my pair and the breed in general. Finally, I was given an update – the dogs were still vomiting, yes, Mrs. YesThatReallyIsMyNameSoShutUp, that is good, no, I don’t know what was found.
More waiting.
Man, an emergency vet is a sucky place to be for an animal lover, however, I had a book and the nice couple who were still waiting for their baby to chat with.
I spoke with the vet twice, once to get the whole story and hear about the vomit (yeah, they searched it – hers was mostly foody, his was mostly stuff that wasn’t food, since we didn’t feed him.) Then, she gave me the treatment spiel – overnight, 24-48 hours, stuff to prevent ulcers (the drug does that) other stuff to soak up the rest of what is in their systems (even hers, since she got her tummy emptied) and IV’s for both for a minimum of 24 hours to keep the kidneys functioning at a super high level and clean everything out so none of the drug had a chance to do any damage. And the bill, which I needed to pay the low estimate of before I could leave the building. $1,500. Yeah.
Of course, I forked it over and left. This morning, they were awake and resting comfortably, having gone potty *a lot, which is GOOD. They ate breakfast and went for a short walk before being transported to the other office where they would spend the day and tonight. At 5, they were resting but doing “just fine” (greyhounds do that a lot) and off the IV for a little while so the vet can check their renal values tonight at 8 (the big worry is that the drug would cause kidney failure).
Assuming that all is well tonight, they’ll come home tomorrow after I get them out of hock.
