Friday night, I found a mouse carcass in the trap in the basement. I did what any normal, red-blooded woman raised in the country would do--I screamed. I hate mice, not because I am afraid of them, but because they are nasty.
So I threw out the little corpse in the field for the coyotes or fox. I scrubbed and swept the basement while EG plugged their newly-discovered entrance hole and put brass mesh over the opening. We figured that should take care of things, at least temporarily, so I could relax for a while.
This was my restful Saturday morning. Harry got up at six with an upset stomach. At nine I took him out, and he was in obvious distress--he wouldn't walk.
I called the regular vet, who told me to take him to the emergency vet. On the way there, the work crews had the main road shut off, but I was first in line for a five to ten minute wait while cars came up from the center of town. I finally told the workers I was on my way to the emergency vet, and they stopped traffic so I could cross the road.
Got to the emergency vet. They rushed us in. They sedated him. They took X-rays at 100 dollars a pop and said he was full of fluid in his abdomen. They sedated him more and pumped his stomach.
They X-rayed him again. They said it looked like he had swallowed a spoon. I was to consider surgery (two to three thousand dollars) or them using a scope (five hundred dollars) to retrieve the spoon; if the scope didn't work, then we have to do the surgery. I call my regular vet, who is part-time retired but a fabulous surgeon. He would operate on Monday, but he recommended that I have the dog done where we are. I called EG, who carriesd on for five minutes but decided to have the surgery done.
Meanwhile Harry woke up from the anesthesia, bit the tube in half, threw up, and aspirated some of the fluids. The staff pulled the rest of the tube out of his stomach, and stuck him with some antibiotics so he wouldn't get pneumonia. They $$-rayed him yet again. Guess what--no spoon. So they examined his stomach contents and found a ponytail holder. I can see why they confused the two.
Surgery was put on hold. Dog appeared to feel better. They $$-rayed him one last time and found an unexplained mass in his stomach. It could be food or it could be some other kitchen utensil or the napkin he ate yesterday or grass or dog food--it's like a game show. They want to keep him overnight (more antibiotics and an IV) and X-ray yet again in the morning to determine if they need to operate.
I come home and find out at four thirty that the food I got for the party tonight and specifically told EG to not give the kids was consumed for lunch with EG's permission.
I may scream.
Honestly. I need to go back to work to get some rest.