Saturday, December 5, 2009


Guess what I did last night? Its pretty amazing and special, and you'll never guess; I woke up in the middle of the night, and my mouth was closed. I was breathing through the two holes in my head that have been useless for the last however many days! Isn't that exciting? I haven't had to brush my teeth (and tongue and lips and roof of my mouth) and swirl listerine around in there first thing when I get up to cleanse the mouth-breathing scum! I never appreciate breathing more than when a cold is almost over. The universe has smiled on me, and now its saying, Okay, quit your whining and put up your damn Christmas lights.

So let me tell you what happened yesterday, during the day, while my nose was still filled with cement. We are dog sitting Mosely, a little sweetheart of a dog. After I had taken the kid to school and walked the dogs, I came home and said, eff it, and went back to bed. I slept off the nyquil haze until around 10:30, then got up and started puttering around. I had to drive on a field trip for Leila's class, The Nutcracker, and I had to be at the school at 11:40. So I'm sitting at the computer, obsessively refreshing facebook, and I hear Mose make the most horrendous sound you've ever heard come out of a dog. It was like a the sound you really want to make when you have post nasal drip, but you don't because its too disgusting and your throat might fall out. He makes this sound for a while, then he stops. Then he starts again, and this episode is followed by him standing stock-still in them middle of the living room for five minutes, moving nothing but his eyes, and trembling. I start mildly freaking out that he is going to hork something up while Rob is at work, because I do not deal well with animal by products, so I call Rob at work, and he says, What's the worst that can happen: you'll come back from the field trip and he'll be dead. Thanks, dude, you're awesome. Mose starts making the sound again, and standing still and shivering some more, so I call my friend who I unfairly think knows all answers to all medical questions, man or beast. I hold the phone to Mose so she can hear the sound, and tell her about the still-standing and the shaking, and she says, It sounds like he's having a stroke, and he needs attention right away. Holy shitballs, this dog is going to die on my watch, and his mom is in Michigan, and I have to go to the Nutcracker, and HE'S GOING TO DIE!

I jump into hysterical action. I call Leila's teacher and make sure there are enough drivers that she can stuff the kids assigned to me in another car, and she can. I didn't really want to see the Nutcracker, anyway. Then I start calling local vets until someone says I can bring him down right away. So I get his leash, and Mose looks sprightly for a moment, bounding over to me because he thinks its walky time, but then he starts honking like a goose, and we're back to square one. I drive to the vet, all the while saying soothing things to him, calling him every term of doggy endearment you can think of so he wont die in my car. I fill out forms, I bring him into the exam room and... he's fine. $93 dollars later, we think he has a piece of grass stuck in his throat. He may have kennel cough or a sinus thing, so we'll put him on antibiotics just in case, but he's a healthy dog. And the vet cleaned his eye-boogers since I can only bring myself to clean the eye-boogers of my own animals.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm super glad he's not dying. The last thing his owner needs this week is a dead dog, and I have a cold so obviously I'm in no mood, and if any animal is going to die it really should be my old, cranky cat. But now I'm all keyed up, my adrenaline is pumping, I've missed the field trip, and Mose is climbing on my lap while I'm sitting in the parked car, looking at me like, I like your car! Your hair looks awesome! I call my friend back, and she's all, Oh, sorry I freaked you out by telling you he was having a stroke, and I'm all, yeah, whatever, thats the last time I call you for medical advice about anything, (only that's completely untrue, and I'll probably call her today about this annoying bump on the inside of my cheek.)

Still, all's well that ends well. Mose was till honking last night before we went to bed, and I was thinking, c'mon, man! Hork it up! Rob is home! Hork on, my brother! but there's no evidence of horkage this morning. He's quiet and happy, laying in front of our bedroom door, waiting for Rob to get up. I take him to the vet while he's dying, but he still likes Rob best. Jeez.

Perry and Mosely, after the ordeal

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