On Saturday morning, January 12, Dan The Dog woke me up semi-whimpering on my bed at 3:30 in the morning. I put my hand on him and he was shivering... so I did what any great "dog mom" does and went and got the flannel blanket my mom made for my bed and put him on top of it and took the other half and wrapped him up like I did my human boys when they were itty bitty (okay not so itty bitty) baby boys. His shivering subsided and he slept sound the rest of the night.
When Boone's chow-time clock struck, Dan The Dog wasn't hopping off the bed in eager anticipation of kibbles n bits. Instead he walked back and forth - and it became apparent that he didn't want to jump down. Hmmmm.
He hadn't lost his appetite - but he hung his head lower and was not excited about taking any stairs. We stayed home, watched football and didn't do much at all while taking care of our "sick kid". We got to Sunday and he was no better. Of course I did what The Dad tells me I shouldn't do and I start looking on the internet trying to figure out what was wrong with Dan. And then I saw it and it all made sense: Poisoning. Organs shut down...
We left a few minutes later for the Pet Emergency Clinic. You see... Dan and his brothers, (this had escaped me for a day and a half) - had gotten creative on Friday when I went to the gym - and managed to get an entire 1 pound bag of peanut M & M's AND a dozen M&M cookies I had made the night before to send off to Z-Man in Seattle. They ate them all up. Crafty four legged friends. I really must invest in indoor cameras to catch them when we're out and about.
Now these guys have eaten bucket loads of chocolate before. For instance, the year Blue Eyes left his ginormous Easter basket full of chocolate eggs, M&M's, reeses peanut butter eggs, jelly bellies, cadbury eggs... on his bed. And then left his bedroom door open.
Uh huh. Jack managed to OPEN the plastic eggs and eat everything in the basket. Jack has become a MASTER at picking off the foil wrapping as well. It's really something to behold. These dogs that practically wet themselves to eat dry dog food every morning and night, will take all the time in the world to get chocolatey, peanut buttery goodness out of pink, blue and green foil wrapping. We watched Jack closely after that encounter and realized that chocolate was NOT poison - at least to Jack.
But that was years ago and I was fairly certain that while they all took in the "Peanut M&M's Counter Snatching Affair", Dan seemed to be the most morose in behavior when I arrived home. So it struck me when I saw "poisoned" on my iPhone and off we went.
He let the very nice vet man poke and prod him... though he did give the assistant a nice, tough growl when she took his temperature in that... one place. Dan was tentative, but it was apparent that his adrenaline had kicked up a notch and he wasn't as near meek as he'd been at home. And then the vet said something that just has never been in my mind - ever. Especially with Dan.
He said: "...for an older dog, he seems ok. Without being able to see how he was, I just don't know what to do for him. But like I said, he's an old dog, could be..."
Ummm... "old dog?" No. Bite your tongue doc. Cos if DAN is old then Jack is... older. I'm just not prepared for that sh*t. My dogs have to live forever. Right?
An anti inflammatory was prescribed, they gave him a good shot/dose of one and Dan is pretty close to back to normal. That being said - I can tell Dan isn't exactly the Dan he was before his "injury" or illness. <gulp> and that makes my heart sink and my stomach feel hollow.
Jack is our oldest dog - at 12, Dan 10. And oh lord... Boone is only 4. Forever and a day I've said that Jack and Dan got younger when we brought Boone home. Not that they were old at 8 & 6, but they had mellowed much. Boone made them have to buck up and learn to run and be active again (for the sake of their own sanity). But Dan "hangs" better with Boone. He's such a stout, muscle-y, fast - competitive dog (huh... sounds like my human sons) and he wasn't going to let some little pup (now 4 inches taller than him and outweighs him) (huh... again... sounds like the other boys), be stronger, faster, more energetic...
Even 10 though, I never EVER think of Dan as an old dog. Or an "older" dog. He's 10. I refuse to think of my two older dogs as "old". Their faces are graying, but their bark when there's a knock at the door, their quick "get up" when they hear the word "eat" or "treat" or "snack"... them following me up and down the yard during "mowing season", the pool time that Dan is so so fond of. My dogs are NOT old.
So I'm writing this post. Why? To talk myself out of the fact I'm all too soon going to have to realize - Jack & Dan are getting older. It may be 7 years, or 5, 3 or 1. Whatever it is I'm not ever going to be ready for it. Not after "losing" a third baby boy to college and the life that comes after that.
I'm going to go work on my Harry Potter spells now. I need to work on the spell that prolongs life. If there is one, The Wizard (aka #7) will be able to tell me what it is. In the meantime...
I love you Dan The Dog.
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