Paws for Last Week's Plight

 I thought sleepless nights were reserved for people who were experiencing blossoming love, newborn babies, and newly acquired puppies. So it was a little startling and uncomfortable when my dog, Roxie, was keeping me up all night. She was not sleeping soundly either, and as the night progressed fluids were coming out of both ends. I kept being awakened by putrid smells that could not be ignored, so I found myself up and changing the towel lining her crate about every hour on the hour.

By the time morning arrived, I had changed her crate exactly eleven times. No surprise that I didn’t have any desire to get up as my husband, Brad, began his day. When he let her out to do her business, I heard him yell from downstairs, “Your dog is acting weird!”

I moaned as I put my feet on the floor and staggered to the window to look outside into the back yard. What I saw didn’t look weird at all. He was kneeling over, talking in a soothing voice, and petting her back. I decided to investigate further, “What’s she doing?” I yelled from our upstairs bedroom as I opened the curtains, peering outside to the backyard that was below me.

“First she tried to bury her nose in the leaves piled over by the lemon tree, then she staggered and hid underneath the birdbath,” he answered. “I think it’s time to take her to the vet.”

My brain was not firing correctly due to the small amount of sleep I had received the night before. I threw on some clothes and hurried downstairs. She was lethargically following him through the sliding glass door as I entered the family room. I scooped up my dog, wrapped her in a soft, warm blanket, and placed her gently on the couch. She moaned as I picked her up, and then again when set her back down, where she remained still and listless. She was clearly in pain. I stayed by her side stroking her forehead and listening to her breathe. Upon every exhale she moaned miserably. I felt helpless watching her there, knowing a visit to the vet was warranted, so I called, Dr. Warren.

Unfortunately, I got a recorded message stating that his offices were closed that day, telling me if it was an emergency, I should take my pet to the local emergency clinic. I wondered if this would constitute and emergency, but I wasn’t convinced. I knew my dog was in pain, but I didn’t think it was life-threatening at this point. I decided to continue sitting by her side, stroking her head trying to ease her suffering, and perhaps providing her water after she seemed to feel a little better.

Eventually I got up to grab a bite to eat, and I sat down next to her with a piece of toast, munching it down as I assessed her. At this point, she had begun to shiver on her inhale and moan on her exhale. Then she sprang to her feet and began retching. When she was through, there was blood mixed with bile on the floor, and she exhibited a high pitched raspy whine. I hadn’t ever heard a sound like that come from any dog before, and I scooped her up in the blanket and carried her upstairs to get help from my son, Nate.

“Roxie is barfing up blood!” I informed him excitedly.