He's a Sick Dog

It was only a few days ago that I introduced you to Shorty. You could probably tell by that blog that I was smitten. I don’t often get so involved with pets. I like them (and certainly love them) but I’m just a little removed from being enthralled by them. I know that Shorty quickly bridged that gap and stole my heart.

When he originally wormed (pardon the pun) his way in he was in a crate at Petco. For those of you who know our history this will be meaningful. His name then was Fred and the date was December 1, the original Fred’s birthday. We already had a Fred(die) at home but knew we could change his name. Although it has been a long time since Fred left us, this dog certainly used our love for Fred to his advantage. There was no way he wasn’t going home with us that day (the exact course of events might make a later blog.)

The folks at Petco were honest. The told us he had a “mild” case of heartworm. Our vet agreed and said the normal monthly heartworm treatment would take care of that. Well, on Monday he went to the vet to check on his cough. The news was not good. Our vet said the veterinary world had taken an entirely new approach to heartworms in the last six months. Now there was no such thing as a “mild” case and he needed the aggressive treatment right away.

So, Shorty got a shot of something similar to arsenic. I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t seem to be a good thing. It isn’t good for the heartworms. It kills them. Sometimes it also kills the dog. I’ve actually had another dog treated this way but she stayed with the vet the entire time. He told us it would either cure her or kill her. It cured her. This vet sent Shorty home.

He came home very sore. He came home very upset by the whole thing. He lay in my office most of the day and I worried and fretted and came very close to crying on several occasions. I hated seeing him so obviously in pain as he tried to find a comfortable way to lay down. I hated the fear I had that he might die in front of me. The internet says we have to keep him calm for six to eight weeks. He’s a beagle! He doesn’t understand calm!

He has one more, even more traumatic treatment in a few weeks. I’m not sure, but I think he’s probably going to endure it better than I will. I look at him and my heart just melts. His eyes have me totally hooked. When he comes to me for a “scratch,” as I call it, he gets my attention no matter what I’m doing. When he lays on my chest in bed in the morning I’m a jellyfish. Did I tell you he lifts his front leg to be scratched in his pit? He does! And I do!

Earnest is a Shorty wimp. I'm not ashamed to say that. Earnest is scared Shorty won’t make it. I can’t have another pet that comes and goes in a few months, but that’s another blog. Stay tuned for the Shorty and Earnest updates.