Don't get me wrong. My son's emotional support dog and our "spazmoid" Blue Heeler are literally FAMILY to me!! Recently a feral stray learned what happens when you hurt my family, and I'm there.
I got up this morning before 3am, which is semi-normal for me, but the WAY I woke up wasn't good. My Autistic, adult son got me up because his dog was throwing up. I grabbed my flashlight and we let her out. She starts eating grass like it's Filet Minon and she's starving.
A little back story ... she had to have her stomach attached to her abdominal wall because she had been developing bloat - where the stomach twists. That is extremely painful AND dangerous for the dog, as in life-threatening.
That's been corrected, but she still has a nervous stomach (she's on Prozac for her nerves).
So anyway, I gave her a pill we'd gotten from the Vet for her stomach to eliminate gas and discomfort and she did her thing with the grass.
She ate a ton of grass, puked, ate more grass, pooped and ate more grass. But not in a frenzy like she originally had been. Then she wandered the yard and came back in the house, where she drank a bunch of water.
She went to my son's room, and jumped into his bed (her #1 place to sleep during the day...she seems to feel safe there). Then after a few minutes, went out to the living room couch - her usual night time routine.
She seems to be 1,000% better, but obviously, I'll be keeping an eye on her.
This is what I hate. I get the same gut punch when someone I care about is hurt/sick, and it's worse when it's one of our dogs, because there's nothing I can do ... I feel totally helpless and I feel I NEED to fix whatever is wrong and all I can do is pet them and talk to them reassuringly, all the while knowing they don't understand my words.
Knowing this dog means SO MUCH to my son makes it worse.
I got up this morning before 3am, which is semi-normal for me, but the WAY I woke up wasn't good. My Autistic, adult son got me up because his dog was throwing up. I grabbed my flashlight and we let her out. She starts eating grass like it's Filet Minon and she's starving.
A little back story ... she had to have her stomach attached to her abdominal wall because she had been developing bloat - where the stomach twists. That is extremely painful AND dangerous for the dog, as in life-threatening.
That's been corrected, but she still has a nervous stomach (she's on Prozac for her nerves).
So anyway, I gave her a pill we'd gotten from the Vet for her stomach to eliminate gas and discomfort and she did her thing with the grass.
She ate a ton of grass, puked, ate more grass, pooped and ate more grass. But not in a frenzy like she originally had been. Then she wandered the yard and came back in the house, where she drank a bunch of water.
She went to my son's room, and jumped into his bed (her #1 place to sleep during the day...she seems to feel safe there). Then after a few minutes, went out to the living room couch - her usual night time routine.
She seems to be 1,000% better, but obviously, I'll be keeping an eye on her.
This is what I hate. I get the same gut punch when someone I care about is hurt/sick, and it's worse when it's one of our dogs, because there's nothing I can do ... I feel totally helpless and I feel I NEED to fix whatever is wrong and all I can do is pet them and talk to them reassuringly, all the while knowing they don't understand my words.
Knowing this dog means SO MUCH to my son makes it worse.