I Don’t Wanna Fight No More

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~Found on Petfinder~

It seemed like such a good idea in the beginning. There I was, in my cage at the pet store with my brother and sister. I could tell by the crowds in the
store everyday that Christmas was drawing near. My brother, sister, and I all hoped each morning that today would be the day we would go to a new home, one filled with loving, caring people.

First it was the beagle in the cage next to us. I saw the excited gleam in
his eye as his new family prepared to take him home. I hoped one day that I would feel the same excitement. Then the cute little bunny from one aisle over was picked. When the ferret with the bad case of psoriasis found a new home, I began to think I would stay a pet store puppy forever! Finally, it happened.

I had seen the couple in the store the week before, talking about bringing
home a Christmas puppy for their son Billy. You see, Billy was eight years
old, and had been pestering his folks for a puppy for some time now. Although they were busy people, they had decided that a new puppy would make the ideal Christmas present for Billy.

The car ride home was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. It seemed so cold outside, and I was very glad that Billy would keep me inside.

I stayed at Billy’s aunt’s house until the night before Christmas, so as not
to ruin the surprise. That night, Billy’s dad put me in a small, dark box
with a couple of holes punched in the side for air. I could see through the
holes the pretty green bow they had tied around my box.

Finally, it came time for Billy to open his presents. There was a GI Joe figure, some new slippers, and a big truck or two. At last, I felt my box being picked up and heard Billy’s mom say, “OK, Billy, one more present. We saved the best for last”. I felt like I was going to turn inside out with anticipation, when suddenly the box was flooded with light and there was my new boy, Billy.

He shrieked so loud when he saw me that it was a little bit scary! “A puppy, a puppy!”

The first few days with Billy were puppy heaven! He was out of school you
see, and had lots of time to take care of me. We played all day, and I slept in his bed at night. Things just couldn’t have been better.

After a week or so, Billy’s mom took me to my new doctor. By then, Billy’s
holiday vacation was over and he was back in school. The doctor told Mom all about how to keep me healthy and happy. Mom did seem a little distracted though, especially when the nurse from school called on her cell phone to say that Billy had a bloody nose.

I didn’t even mind the shot I had to get, because like the doctor told me it
was better than getting sick! As Mom and I left, the doctor reminded us that I needed more than just one shot to be protected, and I should come back in a month for another check-up. I never saw the doctor again.

As time went by, I really started to grow! I suppose that I wasn’t quite as
cute as before, because Billy and I didn’t spend as much time together. He seemed to have a lot of things to do beside take me for walks and fill my food bowl.

Billy and his friends sat in front of a strange box filled with moving pictures every afternoon, playing some game I suppose. Heck, I couldn’t even
pronounce Nintendo, much less play those kind of games. I started to get
confused about what my real name was. At first, everyone called me Petey, which I thought was a great name.

A funny thing started to happen when I got to be about six months old. Mom and Dad stopped calling me Petey, and started calling me “the dog”. I guess that was OK, I am a dog after all. A few weeks later though, they changed my name again. Now I was “that –darn– dog”. I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t think that was such a nice name.

Since my family didn’t have much time for me anymore, I had to think of
things to do on my own. I liked to chew, and so I did! Remember that GI Joe Billy got for Christmas? Well somehow I managed to chew off his left leg, which Billy seemed mad about. After a couple more incidents like that, Billy’s dad decided I should live outside.

Well, spring had come, and the weather was nice so I figured, why not? I
thought they would build me one of those nice doghouses like I had seen in the pet store. Maybe it would have carpeting and a soft blanket to sleep on.

Well, they must have forgotten to build it, because I spent most of the time tied to a tree in the yard.

That was OK for awhile, but I began to get pretty bored. I found some nice soft dirt to dig in, but that made Mom mad. Something about flower bulbs and grass seed that I really didn’t understand. There was a dog next door tied to a tree in his yard, so we spent most of the day talking. For some reason, that made Dad mad too! I just couldn’t seem to do anything right.

Finally, one day I heard Dad say to Mom, “I don’t care how you do it, just
get rid of that –darn– dog!” I figured Billy would convince them I should stay, but he didn’t much care one way or the other. Mom came outside and unhooked me from the chain. She put an old belt of Dad’s through my collar and we went out to the car.

At first I thought it was time to go to the doctor’s for a checkup. Once we
drove off though, we headed in the opposite direction. I could hear all the dogs talking inside the building as soon as we turned into the riveway.

Mom and I went inside, and she handed the belt to the lady at the counter. Then she patted my head, and walked away, without me. The lady at the desk took me in the back and put me in a cage like the one I had in the pet store, only colder and dirtier. The room was filled with dogs, I even saw that cute Beagle I had known at the pet store.

That was five days ago. I guess that I must have a new home now, because a man came by this morning and put a red sticker on my cage door. Here comes the lady who feeds me, and she is carrying a thing to give shots with, just like my doctor did. As she walks me into another room, I see some of the friends I have made in this new place. Funny, they all seem to be asleep on the floor.

Oh well, the lady just told me not to worry, everything would be all right.
She seems sad though, and I don’t really understand why. Maybe being a
Christmas puppy wasn’t so great after all.

Sleep well, little one.

Since we still don’t know what’s wrong with Lucy and since there’s nothing else to try we’re treating her for Helicobacter. It’s a bacteria that can perforate the intestines and cause bleeding so slight that it doesn’t show up in the stool unless it’s sent out to a lab.

Her marrow is fine.

I hope this is the cure.

I’m pretty sure I’ll be going to the vet with Lucy every day for the next couple of weeks, which sucks, because vet visits cost money and I’m running low on that after everything we’ve done to try to save her.

Her PVC reading was actually up 1.5%, which is good. She’s still very low in red blood cells so she’s very tired but she’s holding steady so far.

I made my second batch of Duck Soup last night. The first batch I made a couple of months ago was a disaster and Marcy looked at me like I was insane if I thought that swill was going to pass for Duck Soup. Yesterday I called the Ferret Rescue Director to find out how she makes hers. I went to a health food store and got some bone meal and slippery elm bark, then went home and mixed some kibble, water, FerretVite, bone meal, slippery elm bark, and three jars of chicken baby food together, blended it up, and poured it in an ice cube tray to freeze. This morning Lucy ate her soup, though I think mine was slightly thicker than what she’s used to.

Her appetite is good. She’ll eat up to two cubes of soup twice a day. She isn’t eating kibble or Wysong Phase I but I suspect it’s because she just doesn’t have the energy to chew.

We’re still giving her steriods and antibiotics. We’ve discontinued the heart medication. Her heart and her breathing are normal, so is her hydration. If we could figure out what’s going on with her blood we’d be in business.

Her marrow hasn’t been looked at yet. I swear by the time the histologist gets around to looking at it she’ll already be gone.

I know I’m just prolonging the inevitable but if there’s a chance that we can stablize her , even for a few more months, I want to go for it.

I took Lucy to the vet today fully expecting that she wouldn’t be coming home. After everything we’ve been through for the past ten days she’s still not doing as well as we’d hoped. She had PVC bloodwork today and her red cell counts are down 6% from what they were on Sunday. That’s a pretty fast drop, especially when we don’t know where they’re going.

We’re waiting to see what the histologist has to say but we’re anticipating that Lucy will be crossing the bridge within the next few days.

Poor Amber went to the vet with us today and she was heartbroken. She cried, which made me cry, and it made the vet’s office a somber place to be.

I’m hoping for some news that will tell us how to fix her but I’m prepared for the worst.