The other night Charlie started puking a bunch… and then drinking a bunch… and then puking more. Then he started whining and looking really pathetic. We got worried.
So we started googling doggie sickness symptoms. Google is a nightmare when it comes to dog illness. For the same set of symptoms, you find everything from, “You’re dog will be fine,” to “OH MY GOSH YOU’RE DOG IS GOING TO DIE ANY MINUTE.”
That freaked us out. So at about 4 am we drove to Kanab looking for Mylanta. I can’t really remember why. Lack of sleep combined with sensationalistic dog forums…
Well the two gas stations open at 4 am in Kanab do not keep Mylanta on hand. Or Gas-X. Or anything of the sort. So we camped out and slept in our car in front of the vet’s office. Charlie dutifully guarded me, with his head hovering over my face. Every half hour or so he would make a horrible dry heaving noise, and I was sure he was about to puke on me.
As I lay in the driver’s seat floating somewhere in between sleep and consciousness, I made plans on how I would put the dog down if he was suffering and dying. It’s so expensive to have the vet put the dog down for you… so I figured I’d give him some Tylenol PM so Portia could have one last sweet snuggly good-bye before I drove him into the hills to shoot him. It was morbid, but it was a pretty good plan I thought.
The vet finally opened at 8 am and we took him in. We filled out some paperwork and headed back to the ranch so we could get to work by 9 am. They called around noon and told us he was stressed, had some kind of flu bug, and we had fed him too much human food.
Charlie is fine, he has some fancy food to help reset his digestive system, we are exhausted, and $200 poorer.
Portia didn’t get any sleep, and has been sleeping for about two days straight. Charlie is ready to play again.