The World Stops when Charlie gets sick

 

Oh Charlie .... Charlie!

I knew something was 'off' with him when I put out his food and he looked at it ... then at me ... and walked away. That IS not Charlie. He is a food driven dog. So much so that if he hears a plastic bag rattle or the lid to his dog food can, he comes on the swift trot to observe and to hopefully eat.

He loves dog treats and gets mini ones on the trail when he comes to my call. So I knew this was not normal. He sat on the porch when I did chores and didn't follow me. He was begging to get back inside the house.

Later, I took him for a long walk and he did his regular business, then ate grass and tossed up. He seemed better after that yet still ignored his food. He took a drink and moments later that came up too. 

Oh Charlie.

As I was talking to Rich about it, he kept putting a paw on my leg. He wanted only to lay in my lap. I will admit. I am a softy when it comes to my pets. Even Rich leaned over and asked Charlie, "Hey buddy, what's wrong?" For Rich to show concern is a big deal as he likes to claim that he doesn't care about house dogs and that he is a tough old guy.

Huh. Not so. 
More barf of clear foamy stuff and I could hear his stomach gurgling. Rich blamed it on the treat he'd gotten. Actually I think while I had him in the woods with me yesterday, he had busied himself with digging hard under rotten logs. He kept grabbing things with his mouth and shaking them. Something in the woods more than likely didn't agree with him.

I took a syringe without a needle and gave him some water. He took that then got up and took another drink.

I had plans for the day. Run to the butcher/meat place and get a month's supply of meat, get some more dog food and gasoline for the mower and later diesel for the skid steer. 

I'd taken inventory of our household items and planned on making October a NO stores/ no outside contact month. I had a local supplier for eggs and a plan for milk. My stock was just about complete.

But the World Stops Turning When a Pet Gets Ill. 

Yes. I spent the whole day holding Charlie in my lap and listening to his stomach gurgle, checking his gums, and watching over him. 

About 4pm a light switched on in his eyes and he bounded off the couch and ate his breakfast. He then went on to annoy Rich with his tennis ball.

I swear

You could hear us both sigh with relief.

Whoever said a Dog is Just a Dog? Or a pet is just a pet?

Not in my house.

All is well again.