An Exercise in Sound Effects...and Life.

So…I’m going to do my best to make this sound funny and entertaining, even though it’s been a very VERY bad day.

This weekend, my darling dog (yes, the same dog) my little 11 mo. old Berner, developed a nasty cough. Hmmm… Really almost the sound of a hairball being expelled out of our evil, hateful, cat, Fish (no, not a catfish…our cat named Fish). HACK-HACK- GASP-KACHEESE! Nothing comes out.

Heavy panting followed, HUFF HUFF HUFF GAK KACHEESE. Seriously… either he’s hot…or he’s HOT!! It's 85 degrees in my house and he wears a seriously heavy coat. So for the past two days, I’ve told myself- he’s hot!

Well this morning, my dear pet, decided no mo’ food. Yep… the human garbage disposal broke. The dog that will eat anything…I mean anything…will not eat.

I know, it’s even obvious to you, who only know this dog from a random blog spot, he needs to go to the vet. But, I couldn’t tell my husband that. We just spent a BAZILLION Dollars on his shoulder surgery. I procrastinated. Maybe he’ll feel better soon. He’s not throwing up. Look… he just WOOFED at the neighbor…GAK KACHEESE...I’m sure he’s fine.

KLUNK! (That’s the sound of my brain as I throw my head back in disgust) I KNOW HE NEEDS TO GO TO THE VET!!

So, I take him. All starts out fairly well. Vet tech tells me she thinks he has Kennel Cough. Fabulous. I have no idea how he could have contracted that, but OKAY! It’s better than the alternative. Actual Vet is in surgery, leave puppy behind, we’ll let you know. Wonderful! I go home and research Kennel Cough-

Then the Vet calls. “His throat’s pretty swollen.”
“Really?”
"Yeah, I want to take an X-ray but he’s pretty freaked out. I’ll have to give him a sedative.”
“Yep…listen…we’ve already spent a lot on this dog. I really want to know what’s wrong with him, but less is more. You see what I’m saying?”
“I know.” Sympathetic, but is she really hearing me???
“I thought it might just be Kennel Cough?” I say desperately.
"Well, it still could be, but with his history, you said he eats everything in the yard?”
SHIT. “Yep, rocks, sticks, Barbie dolls. Pretty much everything.”
“I really think we should take a look.”
“Okay. Let me know.”

For two hours I paced. The phone rings… here’s where it all goes bad…
“Well, I put him under, and as soon as I looked, I could see. He had a HUGE abscess. So much pus. I wiped it away, but we were in jeopardy of him choking to death so we had to intubate.”
OH CRAP! The cash register in my mind was keeping track, CHA-CHING CHA-CHING! Darling Hubby is either going to divorce me or KILL ME! If you find my dead body with a dog collar in my hand, there’s no question who the accused should be. (hear the ditty from Psycho...can't figure out how to write that...)

Long story, short…yah right…dog swallowed something sharp. Cut his throat and now it’s infected. Good news is he’s fine. I got him home. He’s on painkillers and MAJOR antibiotics but he’s going to be just fine. And I still love this dog. Hubby on the other hand, SNARLED and GROWLED when he walked in. I am on my third glass of wine, he is on the back porch GRUMBLING to himself, but trying desperately to be happy with his wife and her pets.

This is life, the life that we created. I know we don’t have tons of money. We have two small kids and one income. People and pets…get sick. All we can do is our best to take care of them. I know, he knows it, and I know he’s happy to have his family (although he would be one dog shy, if it were up to him). Life may be a bowl of pits as Rodney Dangerfield said, but I tend to think more like Carl Jung; There are as many nights as days, and the one is just as long as the other in the year's course. Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word 'happy' would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness. I know the meaning of the word…happy. (Cue the VIOLINS)