Thursday, September 28, 2006

A warning

My poor darling Milo is at the vet tonight.

The worst thing is that I think it may have been my fault. I know in hindsight I could have prevented what happened to him and I am feeling incredibly guilty.

I had taken him for a walk then put some washing on before going to the shops for some groceries. I was gone probably an hour maximum.
When I got home I noticed Milo near the gate and from what I could see he looked a bit funny through the slats with his tongue hanging right out and just looking odd. Usually he would bark at me telling me that I should have taken him with me, how dare I walk somewhere without him!

I put the groceries away and went out to see him, when I opened the back door there was a bit of a mess strewn around, globs of saliva, half digested dog biscuit and other mess on his bed and the ground. I called him and he didn't come so I headed for the gate and when he saw me he came towards me in an ambling gait, head hung low, ears at half mast. I knew something was wrong with him but I couldn't figure it out.
I went in the house and called D. He suggested that it may be a tick but I thought that his reactions were too soon and severe to be a tick. I said I'd watch him for a bit and then call the vet. I went back out and decided to call the vet immediately as he was so obviously not right. While on the phone describing his symptoms searching for a reason, thinking it may have been the dog biscuit but how could a dog biscuit poison Milo, the vet saying it sounded like a tick, I then spied the blue pellets hidden in the grass strewn out of a torn to shreds box of snail bait.

My heart sank and I began to freak. Hadn't I had seen him looking at the very box in the laundry earlier with my telling him not to touch as it would make him very sick, duh. Why didn't I move it. I should've. Now here he was incredibly ill with saliva hanging in ribbons from his mouth looking like he had eaten a dozen snails and slugs, tongue hanging out in a laboured pant with shaking limbs, wanting desperately to go inside the house, not wanting to drink any water, retching and losing control. Completely bewildered.
The vet was telling me that they were currently in surgery and they weren't able to come and pick him up, I asked if there was anything I could do in the interim, she asked if there was anyone I could ask to help. I didn't have a car. D was at work too busy to be concerned that his dog was close to dying. Thank heavens I was home and thank God my elderly neighbours were too.
As soon as I told them what was going on they lept into action and brought their car around not caring about any mess Milo might make. I'd grabbed a blanket to put down in the back and we took him to the vet. They had to redirect us to another clinic in another suburb as he was too sick to wait until the surgery was finished. So we turned around and headed for the other clinic. At least a ten minute drive away and we hit every single red light on the way. I couldn't believe it. They had to stretcher him out of the car, like a whale or dolphin, they administered something to make him vomit and gave him a douche(?). Then they sedated him for the night.
Hopefully he will be ok.

So here's to working night shift and being home in the day for my beloved pets. Please don't chastise me for leaving a box of snail bait lying around in the laundry I have done that repetitively already. It had been in that spot for a year. Now I truly know better. Ironic too is the part of the box that was missing was the part that contained the warning that although the pellets contained a pet deterrent they should be kept away from pets. Why he tore that particular bit is beyond me.
Returning home I set about cleaning up the blanket and bed and picking up those tiny wee blue pellets. What a task getting them out of the grass. I'm glad I still had my head about me as I gave up using my hands and grabbed the vaccuum cleaner. A much more precise way to get rid of them from the grass and cracks in the ground.

Stay tuned,


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