On Monday, Mom and Dad took me on a furry adventure. We love the mountains and as you can see in the picture above we had a great time. On Tuesday, I became tired. On Wednesday, I wasn't quite myself. By Thursday morning I stopped eating, refused to talk, and wouldn't move around. Mom had to "drag" my 125 pound butt to the car. I tried to tell her the same thing she tells Dad when she is very sick, "I"m too sick to go to the doctor/hospital," but she refused to listen to me. She was determined to take me despite my protest.
Upon arrival at my favorite doggie doctors office, Town and Country (Chesterfield, Va.) it was obvious I was extremely ill. I normally stroll through the door announcing my arrival in my native language (Malamute) and some of the staff answer appropriately. One of their staff members, Ms. Nancy actually speaks Malamute quite well. I felt too bad to talk.
Mom said, "I've never seen him so apathetic" and the doctors and staff agreed.
I'm not sure, but I think apathetic means I don't care. If so, they were right. I feel too bad to care or too talk. I tried to tell mom I was too sick to go to the doctor.
Dr. Loehr examined me and quickly determined I needed to go to a special doggie hospital about 45 minutes away and I needed to go there immediately. I was loaded back into Mom's car and the staff at VRCC was waiting when we arrived. They took me straight back and would NOT let Mom go with me. For the first time ever, I was too sick to care if Mom went or not. I just wanted to lay down and be left alone.
Dr. Clare began a series of tests to try and figure out what is going on with me. Quickly, she found my liver and spleen were enlarged. Dr. Loehr had sent extra blood he drew and let them know my hematocrit was 18 (very low).
Dr. Clare began my first blood transfusion and IV fluids. Since, I've had another blood transfusion and finally after two days in Critical Care I ate about 1/4 can of wet food off of Dr. Clare's hand. I am NOT a happy camper. I do not like being sick and I do not like being in critical care away from my humans.
On Friday morning, Dr. Clare said I had a disease called, "Anaplasma." It's a tick-born disease and rare in our area. I said, "that's not possible. My parents always use preventative medicine to keep the ticks and fleas off my body." Dr. Clare said, "those little parasites have found ways to get past the drugs."
So, some nasty, ugly little tick bit me and made me terribly sick. That's just wrong. Why would a little bug want to be so mean? I haven't done anything to him. Mom says, "life is not fair and it is often hard." I guess this is what she was talking about.
Yes, I am cranky. Did I mention I do NOT like this place. Don't get me wrong, Dr. Clare is really cute and sweet and there are some nice humans roaming around, but none of them are my Mama. They normally allow Mom's and Dad's to visit, but I have a history of very large malamute temper tantrums when I don't get my way and it's time for my Mom to leave. So, Dr. Clare and Mom have decided Mom can't see me for now.
I hate to admit it, but Mom and Dr. Clare are right. I would not be able to help myself. If Mom visits and leaves without me I would not be able to handle it. I would have what Mom calls, "a melt down!" I have a few psychological issues and I'm not afraid to admit it. Mom has tried desperately to convince me to trust God and keep my focus on him, but my vision gets cloudy when I can't stay close to Mom. I guess you could say, "she's my security blanket." I know, I know, only God is suppose to be "my security blanket," but it's really, really, really hard sometimes. I don't want to melt down, but sometimes it just happens.
If you are wondering how I am writing this article, just know I have my ways. Today, I'm not concerning myself with grammar or other picky stuff. I'm fighting for my life and trusting God to bring Mom and Dad to get me out of here and back home.
Thank you for all your prayers, love, and encouragement.
Trying to Woof and Wag,