Today when I got home, I heard Kate upstairs, scratching on the door of the bathroom. She heard me and wanted out! It made my heart happy. It also made me super sad that she is locked up. Kate goes back to the doctor tomorrow for her second round of heartworm treatment. So far, everything is going good. She hasn't had any weird side effects, and she actually doesn't act like anything is bothering her. I can't wait until this ordeal is over!
It's just been in the past few days that my mind has actually wondered "Is this going to work out? Did I make the right decision?" I mean, Kate is precious and behaves perfectly, but I based my decision on keeping her on her being perfect for ONE day. This makes me laugh at myself for so many reasons. I pride myself on not being rash, on thinking things through. I can't imagine something happening that would make me not want to keep Kate, and I'm the type of person (as I believe all people should be, for the most part) that when I decide to keep a dog, I'm keeping the dog, no matter what.
And I'm actually watching Toddlers and Tiaras right now. This also got me thinking about how people that don't have kids, like myself, do the same thing to their dog that these parents are doing to their child. I used to work at an upscale dog boutique, and I've seen people drop some major moolah on their four legged friend. I've also heard those same people talk about how they keep their dog in the laundry room 24/7 because of the hair or because they aren't housebroken. I clean my house whether there is dog hair everywhere or not, don't you?
Guess what folks? Some dogs shed. If a dog isn't housebroken, it's because you didn't housebreak him/her. Trust me, I would love to spend all kinds of money on my dogs, I'd much rather buy cool stuff for them then for myself. But bottom line is that I want them to be a DOG. They have the right to act like a dog, think like a dog, smell like a dog, and behave like a dog. There is freedom in that. My dogs may not have a bed that costs $200, but they get nine kinds of attention from me, and hugs, and belly rubs, and I kiss them until their furry little cheeks can't take it anymore. We play and do exciting things and go for car rides, and they are happy.
Showing posts with label Heartworms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Heartworms. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Heartworms
Ok, it's Sunday night, and I just left my parents house. I'm pretty excited to see my two poodles, Mikey and Jordan.
I pull into my parking space and low and behold...I see a dog.
Yup, there is a dog running around in the yard, a little dog with white hair, and from my car he/she looks pretty stinkin' cute.
I get out of my car and head towards my door. I stop and watch her. She has made herself at home two porches down. I know she doesn't belong to the people that live there becuase I'm outside fifteen times a day with the poodles, and I would have seen this dog. I make that funny noise, ya know, the one that you make when you want a dog to come to you (I don't know how to spell that particular noise). She comes to me and I melt.
It looks as though she has been sleeping under a car, as she is covered with oil. Her leg hair is all matted up, and someone has shaved her body all the way down to the skin. So close that she has what looks like razor burn. I talk to her and she seems sweet, but a little shy. I decide that if she is still there in the morning, I'll take her in and at least give her a bath...
Well, guess what people...she was still there in the morning. In the exact same place that she was when I left her the night before. I pick her up and take her upstairs and give her the best bath that I can. I give her some food and water, and I leave her in the bathroom.
What in the heck am I gonna do with this dog?
She is sooooo sweet, might I add. She didn't move a muscle the whole time I was bathing her. She let the poodles smell her all over, and she smelled them back. I can see it in her eyes that she is a good girl.
I have to take her to the vet and see if she is healthy. In my heart, I know she won't be. But I keep telling everyone, my mom, my sister, my boss, my boyfriend, that if she has anything seriously wrong with her, something that will cost hundreds of dollars to fix, I'll call one of the rescue places and see if they can take her.
Yea....right.
I took her to the vet on Tuesday morning. Guess what? She has heartworms, some other intestinal worm that I think the vet called "whip worms", ear mites, and a skin infection from being shaved so close.
And as I'm sitting in the examination room listening to the vet tell me everything that is wrong with her, she looks up at me and just barely licks my nose.
So, she started heartworm treatment on Thursday. Lemme' tell ya, it's very sad. She has to be completely confined for 60 days. She has to take a medicinal cocktail everyday. She can't play, or basically have a life of any kind. This is the first dog I've ever had that has had heartworms. For some reason, hearing other people talk about it doesn't do it justice. It's horrible to watch her be so lonesome and not feeling well. I can't even find one fault in this dog. She doesn't bark, cry, or jump. She doesn't get car sick, she isn't food aggressive, and she likes the poodles. She isn't hyper, she doesn't tear thing up, and she is housebroken.
How on earth can someone do this to an animal? How could anyone do this to HER?
I've never let myself stop and pick up a dog off the side of the road, I know that would turn into a real bad habit. But, I feel as though she was basically delivered by the stork to my doorstep. Everyone thinks I am crazy for paying seven hundred dollars to treat a "stray" dog for heartworms.
But she isn't a stray, she is Kate, and she is my newest furry child.
I pull into my parking space and low and behold...I see a dog.
Yup, there is a dog running around in the yard, a little dog with white hair, and from my car he/she looks pretty stinkin' cute.
I get out of my car and head towards my door. I stop and watch her. She has made herself at home two porches down. I know she doesn't belong to the people that live there becuase I'm outside fifteen times a day with the poodles, and I would have seen this dog. I make that funny noise, ya know, the one that you make when you want a dog to come to you (I don't know how to spell that particular noise). She comes to me and I melt.
It looks as though she has been sleeping under a car, as she is covered with oil. Her leg hair is all matted up, and someone has shaved her body all the way down to the skin. So close that she has what looks like razor burn. I talk to her and she seems sweet, but a little shy. I decide that if she is still there in the morning, I'll take her in and at least give her a bath...
Well, guess what people...she was still there in the morning. In the exact same place that she was when I left her the night before. I pick her up and take her upstairs and give her the best bath that I can. I give her some food and water, and I leave her in the bathroom.
What in the heck am I gonna do with this dog?
She is sooooo sweet, might I add. She didn't move a muscle the whole time I was bathing her. She let the poodles smell her all over, and she smelled them back. I can see it in her eyes that she is a good girl.
I have to take her to the vet and see if she is healthy. In my heart, I know she won't be. But I keep telling everyone, my mom, my sister, my boss, my boyfriend, that if she has anything seriously wrong with her, something that will cost hundreds of dollars to fix, I'll call one of the rescue places and see if they can take her.
Yea....right.
I took her to the vet on Tuesday morning. Guess what? She has heartworms, some other intestinal worm that I think the vet called "whip worms", ear mites, and a skin infection from being shaved so close.
And as I'm sitting in the examination room listening to the vet tell me everything that is wrong with her, she looks up at me and just barely licks my nose.
So, she started heartworm treatment on Thursday. Lemme' tell ya, it's very sad. She has to be completely confined for 60 days. She has to take a medicinal cocktail everyday. She can't play, or basically have a life of any kind. This is the first dog I've ever had that has had heartworms. For some reason, hearing other people talk about it doesn't do it justice. It's horrible to watch her be so lonesome and not feeling well. I can't even find one fault in this dog. She doesn't bark, cry, or jump. She doesn't get car sick, she isn't food aggressive, and she likes the poodles. She isn't hyper, she doesn't tear thing up, and she is housebroken.
How on earth can someone do this to an animal? How could anyone do this to HER?
I've never let myself stop and pick up a dog off the side of the road, I know that would turn into a real bad habit. But, I feel as though she was basically delivered by the stork to my doorstep. Everyone thinks I am crazy for paying seven hundred dollars to treat a "stray" dog for heartworms.
But she isn't a stray, she is Kate, and she is my newest furry child.
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