I don’t know about you, but I can hear my Tuco in distress a mile away. Call it a mother’s instinct or intuition, whatever you call it, I’m in tune with my baby. Nothing jumps my butt out of bed quicker than the sound of my fur baby retching. I guess it’s the same with humans. You wouldn’t let your child go unattended if they got sick or hurt. You’d be right by their side asap.
I’m what my husband calls a hypochondriac. I’m always thinking about something and what could go wrong. In most cases though, I’m right to think like I do. I’m the one who worries about what Tuco puts in his mouth for instance; those rubber toys he injests that can get stuck in his gut; the mulch bark under the trees and in my flower beds; those threads off your clothes; the squeakers in his toys; snow; poop, etc. The list goes on.
I can tell when he has a gut ache. He’s mopey, sad eyed, whiny, and likes to make me feel like he loves me more than Pop when he snuggles with me on the couch for a belly rub. When it’s time to do his business outside, that’s when I check to see what he’s passed. Sometimes I’ll find stones, or pieces of wood bark, or plastic chards from one of his nylon chew toys. It’s no wonder his stomach hurts. A mother can only keep an eye open for so many hours a day. But I try, believe me I do.
I’ve had foot surgery recently and have a cast on my foot. Crutches are my main tool for cruising, so I’m pretty slow right now getting around. Tuco usually sleeps upstairs with us, but last night he slept downstairs by himself. He has his doggy door to let himself in and out so I wasn’t too worried about him and thought I could get a little more rest before heading downstairs.
Pop had already left for work. It was early, still dark outside, when I heard him bark. Then his bark turned into a dry cough. Then like he was clearing his throat. Then nothing. I heard him at the bottom of the stairs. I called to him expecting to hear something, but nothing. In a panic, I quickly pumped up my air cast, got a slipper on, and hobbled to the top of the stairs. I didn’t see him just yet, but I scooted on my butt, crutches in tow, as fast as I could to get down to him.
He seemed to have something stuck in his throat. He tried to clear it and then tried to dislodge whatever it was by throwing up, though nothing came out. I quickly tried to open his mouth to see what was in there but saw nothing. I rubbed his throat and tried to get him to drink some water. He wouldn’t. So, I tried ice cubes, he loves those. He chewed a few of those then went outside. Since I can’t walk, I couldn’t follow him. I just hoped he was alright. Coming back in, he jumped on the sofa, curled up in a ball and went to sleep. I sat next to him, held him, and gave him love.
I don’t know what I would have done if he needed emergency vet care. I can’t drive yet, so I did what any mother would do, I prayed.
A few hours later, we got upstairs and things appeared to be ok. He went into the bedroom and chewed on my clothes that were on a bench. I figured he was feeling better. As I sit in my office and write this to you, his Pop came home and took him for a walk. All seems well in the neighborhood once again.
I don’t envy moms with children. Being a doggy mom is hard enough. I’m stressed and tired, but I love my little canine. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep him safe. All I can say is don’t take things for granted. If you think something is out of whack, check it out. You could save a life. Our furry companions need us to take care of them. And do you know what the best part is? There’s no greater love than that of a dog.
Until next time,
Love your kids and animals, stay safe, and God bless.
Skip’s mom, Cb
My silly little goom-ba chillin’ with mom.
Is that really comfortable?
Watching Bully pictures with Pop on You Tube.
All polished up. Had his first Spa day at Kibbles & Cuts.
What’s not to love?