…and very nasty weather it is too. We’ve had about 5 days of rain without interruption. My mom misses the desert.
On Monday the vet was open (although there was a holiday) so my mom took me to the vet. Dr. Clare said, “Gracie is not as bright as she was last Thursday.”
True. I was feeling like the world should be one big nap.
After poking and prodding, they stuck needles into me. The diagnosis: It seems I have something called pancreatitis. Expensive but ultimately curable. As a dog, I don’t get into the dollars and cents. But I want to get better and go back to running around, driving the mom nuts and walking with my Aunt Sara. Instead, I am lying on the bed or my mom’s counch. Creampuff just ran over to comfort me. Ophelia has ignored me. No surprise there.
My mom shoves nasty-tasting things down my throat all day long. “I have to give Gracie 5 pills a day,” she told soeone one the phone. “Dogs are worse patients than cats.”
Really? At least I don’t have to be force fed. I nibble at my food and eventually eat it. I like to go for walks. I even try to play with other dogs we meet.
My mom hates being sick. For once, we agree on something.