Last Monday Alan and I went to the pet store to buy Christmas presents for Ozzy's pals. Alan found these probiotic digestive treats which we thought Ozzy would like. As he has a very sensitive stomach these treats seemed like a good idea. HA..!! As the mother, I should have said a big NO to this idea, knowing that Ozzy doesn't do well with anything out of the ordinary.
We buy the Christmas toys and treats, and when we get home, I give Ozzy one of these allegedly hypoallergenic, probiotic, suitable-for-dogs-with-digestive-problems treats, which he devours immediately. That night he woke me up around midnight, crying to go out, then every 45 minutes thereafter, all night long. He seemed to improve during the day on Tuesday, but again, that night, all night long, in and out of the house. He mainly eats grass during his "episodes" though with the freezing temps, what little grass there is, is frozen solid. The grass settles his stomach, but gives him diarrhea. By Wednesday I am fried from lack of sleep, Ozzy's fried from lack of sleep, diarrhea, and now starts throwing up, all over the house...on the couch, the bed, the carpet, everywhere. He's not a throw up kind of dog, so this isn't good. Then, on the very short morning walk, the diarrhea turns to just blood running down his backside. Cripes.
Emergency trip to the vet. I explain to the vet about the treats, and ask how something so small, and touted as being for digestive problems, can have such an impact on Ozzy. He says Ozzy is having a severe colitis attack, and yes, if the ingredients didn't agree with him, he could (and did) get very sick. He gives him a shot to settle down his system, and some antibiotics in case of infection. One more night of no sleeping, though I only had to get up 3 times in the night, and by Thursday afternoon, with antibiotics and boiled chicken, Ozzy is back to normal.
What did I learn from this latest Ozzy "episode"...?? He will never, ever again have anything, treats or food, other than his normal Burns food and snacks. No more feeling sorry for him that he can't gnaw on a rawhide chew, or have yummy dog treats that other dogs can have. (Which I already knew, but apparently needed a very big reminder about..!!). It's one thing to have a sick dog, but quite another when he's gotten sick because of something I did..!!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
While all this was going on last week, I ran into a woman and her dog who I see often on Ozzy's walks. She asked me if I'd seen Jean and Mindy lately, which I hadn't. Jean is this wonderful 92-year-old who walks faithfully, rain or shine, with her dear, old dog Mindy. I told this woman that I had just mentioned to Alan a few days before that I hadn't seen Jean or Mindy for two, maybe three weeks, which was worrying. Later, with some trepidation, I decided to call Jean. I tried to tell myself that maybe it was the frigid temps, or maybe Jean and her husband Douglas had taken a holiday, though I have to say, Jean walked Mindy no matter what the weather. So, I call Jean. Thank goodness, she answered the phone, so one worry--about her---was alleviated. We chatted for a minute or two, then I asked her why I hadn't seen her, or Mindy. And, jeez, sometimes don't you just wish you didn't know stuff..????
Jean and Douglas live in a wonderful old mansion house, quite close to the actual village of Cramond. On the back side of their property is quite dense woodland, leading down to the river, with the front side leading down the hill to the village. Mindy was very good at getting through the woodland for an unsupervised walk-about when the urge would take her. She would stroll through the village, get lots of pets and treats, and meander home. On this particular day, Jean went out to take Mindy for her afternoon walk, couldn't find her, so walked into the village to find her. Now to the dreadful, horrible part. Someone had run over Mindy, and left her in the gutter in front of the pub. How anyone could hit-and-run this lovely, sweet, old dog, is just beyond my understanding. Jean comes down the hill, finds her dog laying in the gutter, and carries her home (Mindy was a large, thick-coated dog, about the size of an average Lab). Now, picture this old woman, carrying her dog, up hill, for about 3 blocks. My heart breaks. She gets Mindy home, where she dies. She and Douglas bury her in the back garden, with a view of the woodland. I'm in tears at this point (and as I'm writing this), Jean is crying, and I want to hit-and-run the bastard that not only struck down Mindy, but left her beside the road, alone and dying. Jean said she was so lonely without Mindy, she just couldn't get up the energy to continue her walks by herself. She told me she'd had a dog since she was 10, but couldn't in all conscience get another one at her age.
Now, as if that's not bad enough, she goes on to tell me that shortly after Mindy died (the day before Jean's 92nd birthday), Douglas, who's 93, falls down the stairs in their home, and breaks a few ribs. He's in the hospital and has been for about 10 days at this point. So she's doubly alone. THEN, she drives to the grocery store during all this chaos, comes out of the store and finds her car totalled by some idiot who had crashed into her car, and left the scene..!! For the whole time Douglas has been in the hospital, she has not only been without him, and her beloved dog, but her car as well..!! It boggles the mind, doesn't it..?? And breaks the heart.
I miss Mindy so much. She was the most loving, sweet old girl, just a big, black ball of fluff. Whenever she'd spot me, she'd come thundering up, give a couple of barks as if to say "hurry up with my treats", which I always had ready for her. If I feel this bad, imagine how Jean feels. I hope karma catches up with that driver...big time.
We buy the Christmas toys and treats, and when we get home, I give Ozzy one of these allegedly hypoallergenic, probiotic, suitable-for-dogs-with-digestive-problems treats, which he devours immediately. That night he woke me up around midnight, crying to go out, then every 45 minutes thereafter, all night long. He seemed to improve during the day on Tuesday, but again, that night, all night long, in and out of the house. He mainly eats grass during his "episodes" though with the freezing temps, what little grass there is, is frozen solid. The grass settles his stomach, but gives him diarrhea. By Wednesday I am fried from lack of sleep, Ozzy's fried from lack of sleep, diarrhea, and now starts throwing up, all over the house...on the couch, the bed, the carpet, everywhere. He's not a throw up kind of dog, so this isn't good. Then, on the very short morning walk, the diarrhea turns to just blood running down his backside. Cripes.
Emergency trip to the vet. I explain to the vet about the treats, and ask how something so small, and touted as being for digestive problems, can have such an impact on Ozzy. He says Ozzy is having a severe colitis attack, and yes, if the ingredients didn't agree with him, he could (and did) get very sick. He gives him a shot to settle down his system, and some antibiotics in case of infection. One more night of no sleeping, though I only had to get up 3 times in the night, and by Thursday afternoon, with antibiotics and boiled chicken, Ozzy is back to normal.
What did I learn from this latest Ozzy "episode"...?? He will never, ever again have anything, treats or food, other than his normal Burns food and snacks. No more feeling sorry for him that he can't gnaw on a rawhide chew, or have yummy dog treats that other dogs can have. (Which I already knew, but apparently needed a very big reminder about..!!). It's one thing to have a sick dog, but quite another when he's gotten sick because of something I did..!!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
While all this was going on last week, I ran into a woman and her dog who I see often on Ozzy's walks. She asked me if I'd seen Jean and Mindy lately, which I hadn't. Jean is this wonderful 92-year-old who walks faithfully, rain or shine, with her dear, old dog Mindy. I told this woman that I had just mentioned to Alan a few days before that I hadn't seen Jean or Mindy for two, maybe three weeks, which was worrying. Later, with some trepidation, I decided to call Jean. I tried to tell myself that maybe it was the frigid temps, or maybe Jean and her husband Douglas had taken a holiday, though I have to say, Jean walked Mindy no matter what the weather. So, I call Jean. Thank goodness, she answered the phone, so one worry--about her---was alleviated. We chatted for a minute or two, then I asked her why I hadn't seen her, or Mindy. And, jeez, sometimes don't you just wish you didn't know stuff..????
Jean and Douglas live in a wonderful old mansion house, quite close to the actual village of Cramond. On the back side of their property is quite dense woodland, leading down to the river, with the front side leading down the hill to the village. Mindy was very good at getting through the woodland for an unsupervised walk-about when the urge would take her. She would stroll through the village, get lots of pets and treats, and meander home. On this particular day, Jean went out to take Mindy for her afternoon walk, couldn't find her, so walked into the village to find her. Now to the dreadful, horrible part. Someone had run over Mindy, and left her in the gutter in front of the pub. How anyone could hit-and-run this lovely, sweet, old dog, is just beyond my understanding. Jean comes down the hill, finds her dog laying in the gutter, and carries her home (Mindy was a large, thick-coated dog, about the size of an average Lab). Now, picture this old woman, carrying her dog, up hill, for about 3 blocks. My heart breaks. She gets Mindy home, where she dies. She and Douglas bury her in the back garden, with a view of the woodland. I'm in tears at this point (and as I'm writing this), Jean is crying, and I want to hit-and-run the bastard that not only struck down Mindy, but left her beside the road, alone and dying. Jean said she was so lonely without Mindy, she just couldn't get up the energy to continue her walks by herself. She told me she'd had a dog since she was 10, but couldn't in all conscience get another one at her age.
Now, as if that's not bad enough, she goes on to tell me that shortly after Mindy died (the day before Jean's 92nd birthday), Douglas, who's 93, falls down the stairs in their home, and breaks a few ribs. He's in the hospital and has been for about 10 days at this point. So she's doubly alone. THEN, she drives to the grocery store during all this chaos, comes out of the store and finds her car totalled by some idiot who had crashed into her car, and left the scene..!! For the whole time Douglas has been in the hospital, she has not only been without him, and her beloved dog, but her car as well..!! It boggles the mind, doesn't it..?? And breaks the heart.
I miss Mindy so much. She was the most loving, sweet old girl, just a big, black ball of fluff. Whenever she'd spot me, she'd come thundering up, give a couple of barks as if to say "hurry up with my treats", which I always had ready for her. If I feel this bad, imagine how Jean feels. I hope karma catches up with that driver...big time.
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