I've got another sick doggie on my hands. Skylar. She's a full-blooded Sheltie, maybe about five years old and fatter than a butterball. Two days ago, she threw up. And threw up. And threw up. There was a huge surprise for me in the kitchen which contained bits of cheese my daughter had given her earlier. I cleaned it up, then went in the living room and there were more surprises for me. Just spots but quite a few of them. We just figured she had some kind of tummy thing going on - that dog will eat anything left on the floor if you aren't careful, but that night, she wouldn't touch her dog food. Now, this dog eats. She eats hers and she eats the others if you're not careful.
We knew something was wrong so we kept a vigil on her. After what we went through with Max, my heart was sinking. I can't go through another sick dog.
The day after that, yesterday, she still wouldn't eat. Nothing. She was drinking however so that was good.
Both my daughter and I had to work last night so it was frantic city the whole time. She was texting me, "When are you getting out of there." And I was texting her hour by hour the status of my departure.
I finally got home and I wasn't sure what I'd find. I pulled up into the carport and there was no barking. Now Max and Cassie, Cassie especially, can't hear a darn thing - at least not something outside but Skylar can hear a pin drop. Usually when I pull up, there's barking. Skylar had alerted everyone, "Mommy's home! Mommy's home!"
So anyway, no barking. I get in and Max and Cassie are by the door so they obviously heard me which was quite a surprise. Usually Skylar is right there with them, too, but she was upstairs looking down at me with those pitiful eyes. I was just relieved she was still alive.
I texted my daughter she was fine to help relieve her worries and I tried to get her to eat but she would have nothing of it. When my daughter got home, she took her out, then put her in the bedroom with her.
I got up this morning and there she was in the same spot my daughter had put her. I picked her up and carried her out - no easy feat down 2 flights of stairs with an overweight dog on your hands but I did it.
We got outside and it perked her up a bit. She took a pee but it wasn't as much as she usually does but I knew she was drinking water but not that much.
I took her inside and that was about time my daughter got up. I fed her a piece of chicken and she ate it. I tried feeding her more but I'm not sure if she ate it or Max got it, but I know a bite or two went in her.
I fed Max his usual balogne sandwich breakfast and tried to feed her some but she wasn't buying it.
I opened the sliding glass doors and Skylar got up and walked outside on the deck. So she's almost there, but still not out of the forest yet.
But what I wanted to tell you is this. When I was walking Max (who incidentally is having a ball with his second chance of life), there was a flock of ducks flying overhead. I thought, how neat. They were low flying and just as loud as you can ever imagine.
And I was thinking that is the most beautiful sound on a crisp winter morning. All is quiet but these squawking ducks and I was thinking Max was thinking it was so neat, too.
And I was thinking how truly beautiful this island really is.
I get inside and a little while later hear gunshots. And gunshots. And gunshots.
I had a "moment" out there with Max, the death-defying dog, and these squawking ducks. The hunters have just taken that away.
That really really bothers me.