Doug and I took off on Thursday for a long weekend in the hill country. Sounds great, right? It was. Mostly.
I called my mom on Friday (which, by the way, happened the be the thirteenth) to tell her that I ran into a long-lost softball buddy at the San Antonio Zoo. She sounded strange - more than just, "How funny that you ran into someone you haven't seen in 15 years 200 miles away from home," strange. I asked her what was going on.
"Well, we didn't want to track you down, but Maddie's been sick."
What do you mean, "sick?"
"Well, she threw up a bunch of clear, frothy liquid. A bunch of it."
I wouldn't worry about it - she's done that before. She probably just drank too much water after playing too hard. She'll be ok.
We left it at that. A few hours later, I called my dad to check on her. He was at the vet.
I thought you weren't going to take her in. . . ?
"Well. . . she threw up again and she's having trouble breathing."
First instincts said, "Get in the car and go home." Logic kicked in and said, "Dad got you through to adulthood - let him handle it at least through the vet appointment." I hung in there and waited for the diagnosis. Pancreatitis. They drew blood and you could see the fat floating in the blood with the naked eye before they centrifuged it. Cholesterol count - 402. Cause - over eating on an unfamiliar diet.
They started her immediately on a saline drip with antibiotics. Dr. Parker's partner's comment - "Oh my God. . ." - with her jaw hanging open. Maddie went back Saturday morning for a second IV, just in case. She pulled through fine and is going to be ok. Dr. Parker's comment - this could have killed her.
Lesson learned - don't put your dog on a low calorie diet and then send her to Gram and Gramps' house for the weekend without her own doggie bag.
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