mo’s at the veterinary hospital, hopefully in recovery from an evening of severe gastric distress. we don’t know what caused it: it could be a reaction to the dewormer we gave him this morning, or a toxic effect from some mushroom he ate, or possibly a blockage in his digestive tract. when i took him to the park after school, he was in fine form, but apparently it all went downhill after i left home to meet a friend at the pub.
i’m trying to be optimistic, because i ought to: mo is in good hands, and they will take care of him as best they can. puppies can and do recover from all sorts of crises, including bad reactions/poisonous mushrooms/blockages. he is a strong little creature, and has a lot going for him.
i’m very grateful for excellent community support: when oats rang me at the pub to tell me what had happened, my friend drove me all the way to the hospital… and s.u.m. and captain pestou drove oats and mo to the hospital, then stayed with us through hours and hours of waiting. thank you, friends.
it’s almost 1 am and i’m going to bed, tired and fighting the bad worried feelings with logic and hope. this is the first time i’ve let myself get all wrapped up in a pet since my cat died 6 years ago, the first time i’d chosen an animal instead of having them just wander into my life… i’m trying hard to let this choice still be a good one.