Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – June 8, 2004
Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – June 8, 2004 – I was up bright and early this morning, and leaving Ziggy happily munching on his breakfast, I scooted out to my car and headed down to Gerrard and Parliament to retrieve Augie from the Cabbagetown Pet Clinic. He’s well enough to come home now, after four days at the animal spa.
I chatted with Dr. McClure about his condition, which of course has a long Latin name, which I can’t remember. The short form is a really bad intestinal bug. Apparently this exists in the gizzards of many dogs, until some combination of events makes it flourish. Augie is never off lead, doesn’t eat garbage and has a very defined diet, so we don’t know what triggered this virulent bout of sickness. Hopefully his liver enzymes will settle down once the toxins are out of his system, but I’ve been told to be watchful for any signs of a relapse.
He came bounding out of the back of the clinic, tail wagging and eyes shining. He was freshly bathed – a necessity after his nasty battle with this army of intestinal meanies. He was more than ready to get out of Dodge. I popped him into the car and we headed home. I looked over at him while I waited for a light to turn green. His happy little face was beaming and his goofy appearance made me smile.
When we got home, we had a spin up and down the lane and then went into the house. Now that he’s been re-hydrated and is taking antibiotics, he figures it’s high time to cease and desist with this ridiculous “trickle feeding program”. I put a couple of tablespoons of high fibre canned food in his bowl and it disappeared like a stone in water. He glanced over at me and then back at his bowl. This didn’t produce the desired result and he looked at me with such disbelief on his face that I burst out laughing. Who says animals can’t communicate?
I bent down and gave his a long, hardy hug and he tolerated my squeeze for a moment longer than normal. When it became evident that no more food was forthcoming, he ambled off down the hallway to investigate his bed. He jumped in and snuffled his doggie duvet and then settled down in its comfortable folds. I know he is delighted to be home. I scratched his ears and stroked his muzzle and he uttered a deep, contented sigh, then closed his eyes.
We’re not out of the woods yet but we’ve won the first round. He needs a few more days of trickle feeding and the balance of his medication, then its up to his strong little soul to vanquish the rest of this illness. I’m glad Augie is home. He lights up my household with his quirky personality and his love and the days are sad when he’s not here.
As I sat beside Augie’s bed, Ziggy ambled up and inspected his brother. They sniffed noses, then Ziggy playfully swatted Augie on the snout. Augie shook his head and yawned. Time for a nap. Time to dream about big bowls of bickies, fresh water and walks around the neighbourhood. Life is almost back to normal and this is a good thing