Suddenly *Not So* Single Journey

He’s a sick sick boy…

Author: thenicknick

It began yesterday evening.  We had been in and out so much between HIM working on the roof and me running errands to keep them in gloves and hydrated and fed.  When we finally sat down to eat at 8pm last night, we realized that Bishop was not his normal self.

See, healthy Bishop sits on his love seat staring us down, willing us to share our meal, mouth dripping in anticipation.  Healthy Bishop eyes every crumb thoughtfully, paying perfect attention to where it falls on the ground so that the moment we are done, he can snatch it up in his massive, cavernous mouth.  Healthy Bishop wears a worried look while we eat, concerned that this time we really might not share with him.

Last night, when we sat down to eat tacos, he didn’t even raise his head.  He was nestled into his love seat and he refused to budge.  I finally lured him to his food bowl with promises of some quesadilla and left over bacon.  And when I looked at his food bowl, I knew we had a problem.

me: Did you fill his bowl?

HIM: No, why?

me: He hasn’t eaten all day.

It’s one of those things that I take for granted.  Bishop had shared some of our bacon at breakfast.  And normally once he’s had his taste of people food, he eats his food.  I fill his bowl about four times a day.  Only, as I thought about it, I didn’t remember refilling his bowl even once.  Ut oh.  And the water was full, too.

Bishop ate some bacon then laid down on the carpet.  I brought his water over to him and he drank the entire bowl.  That was somewhat reassuring, but still he couldn’t be convinced to eat his kibble.

HIM: I think we need to take him to the vet.

me: I know.

And there’s always talk of money woes.  We had discussed it the night before when we realized we really weren’t going to be able to get married in October unless we had a miracle.  It’s not that I don’t believe in miracles, it’s simply that I doubt marriage money is high on the list of miracle priorities.  I’m thinking we should be working on things like world peace, and saving the planet, and global warming, and even famine before marriage money even makes the list.

Since Richard was staying with us, HE couldn’t come.  I know, but he really needed to protect the fort.  Trust me on this.

We loaded Bishop.  I wondered over how I would unload and reload Bishop, but I figured that these things work themselves out.  And I headed off.  Only…it was dark and I forgot to write down the address.  That prompted my first call home.  Soon, HE told me where I was going.  And I remembered from an emergency visit with my ex-poodle that I was heading to the outskirts of uptown Charlotte.  Oh, and not the pretty parts, the parts that mean the animal hospital is locked and people have to be buzzed in after hours.  Yay.

Well, Bishop perked up when we first walked in.  Yeah, he walked for me.  And even sick, he makes a very imposing figure.  They weighed him.  He’s lost weight.  He weighed 138 at his vet a month and a half ago.  Last night he only weighed 135.  And this is when he should be packing on the pounds, filling out.

He was running a high fever.  And the vet seemed overly concerned about his stiff gait.  She gave me one scenario after another as we tried to puzzle through what was wrong with him. The best she could come up with was any number of tick borne infections.  Only after the first round of blood work, that I waited FOREVER for, she had a different thought entirely.

I was sitting on the floor with Bishop’s head in my lap.  He had paced for nearly an hour, trying to get comfortable.  He didn’t want to lay down because it was such a struggle to get up.  I could tell.  So, he was leaning his head on me and then he’d pace.  He’d snuggle, lean, and pace.  Finally, he was worn out and I convinced him that it was okay to lay down.  I was rubbing his head and ears, his eyes closed, looking almost serene when the vet returned.

vet: I think he has Addison’s and may be in crisis.

This one statement could have lead to a flurry of questions, but all I asked was…

me: Do you have any literature?  Is it fatal?

And then after uttering those words, tears erupted.  Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t turn into some overwrought pet parent, I simply had a moment where I worried over the outcome and my eyes leaked a little.  I’m good in a crunch.  I don’t fall apart.  I keep it together for everyone.

Well more tests were run.  And I called HIM practically every fifteen minutes with an update.  HE wanted to talk to Bishop, so I held the phone.

HIM: You’re going to be okay, buddy.  The doctor’s going to make you all better and you’re going to come home.

Bishop seemed to be more at ease after that pronouncement.

The vet returned with more test results.

vet: It’s not Addison’s.

*exhale*

vet: He has some kind of infection.  I’d like to keep him over night.

me: What will you do for him if he stays?

vet: We’ll give him fluids and monitor him.

me: Well, he’s drinking for me.  And I know you look at him and see this giant dog, but he’s our baby.  And I don’t think he’ll do well here, without us.

She looked skeptical.

me: I had a 30 week premie.  I nursed him back to health.  I’ve got this.  Trust me.

And apparently she did.  So, I comforted Bishop while they inserted a bag of fluid under his skin.  And we went home.  He was so motivated to go, it was 1am by then, that he even just about climbed into the vehicle on his own.

HE was waiting for us in the man cave when we arrived.  HE walked right up to the vehicle to help me get Bishop inside.  We tucked our baby in and soon went to bed.

This morning his fever is down.  Ironically, he’s getting breakfast in bed.  The first course was 5 pills wrapped individually in sliced ham.  Then I brought him a bowl of water to cleanse his palate in between courses.  ( I was out of sorbet.)  His main course was cheesy scrambled eggs.  It gave him the strength to go outside and go potty.  Then I followed with some vegetable dog biscuits for dessert.

If Laura finds the recipe, I will be making peanut butter dog biscuits to try and perk up his appetite.  The lengths I will go to for those I love…

Love you, pup-pup.

This entry was posted on Sunday, July 4th, 2010 at 11:23 am and is filed under Bishop tales. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.