Poor Old Doggie

I let our dog out this morning and noticed a trail of blood in the snow. It took me a minute to realise it was his urine, not the results of a scrape with the farm cats. A frantic call to the vet, and difficult navigating of roads had us at his office within the hour.

We still don't know for certain what is going on, but his white cell count was high and he is clearly in pain. The vet gave him an antibiotic shot (lasts two weeks) and some pain medication. There wasn't anywhere to take him for an x-ray on Saturday, and by the time we left the vet he was urinating clear, so with any luck he passed a stone, or has a urinary infection.

We've had Algy for thirteen years, but he was a rescue dog and everyone's best guess is that he's about sixteen or seventeen years old. He's a poodle/terrier mix, and until recently had been pretty active, albeit going blind.

The vet tried to gently remind me that Algy isn't going to live forever, and that if he ends up requiring surgery at this age, that has risks as well. In other words, take your dog home and see if he makes it through the weekend. I promptly lost it.

This past week has been, without exaggeration, one of the most stressful, upsetting weeks I've ever had to endure, and the thought of losing my dog was more than I could deal with at that particular moment. Our vet just had a loss in his family, so we both kind of stood there with the dog reflecting on our pain, comforting Algy, and resolved to try and do what we could until it became obvious it isn't working. Obviously, I'm not going to keep Algy alive suffering if it comes to it, but for now we are treating it as an infection, a very bad infection from which he will hopefully recover. I really thank God we have such a wonderful veterinarian that understands, because believe me, we've had some bad ones in the past. Oh man, do I have "bad vet" stories. Bad, bad vet stories.

I gave Algy a brand new pillow and a well-worn flannel pillowcase to sleep on. He's resting (probably due to the medication) and I keep wanting to go cradle my ten pounds of fluffy white fur, but I know he needs to rest. He's a good little old dog, let's hope he's around a bit longer.