Blondie was a little out of sorts last night. Owl, the gentle scared to death of Blondie young boy, hurt her in play. After a fierce growl, she walked away. She had a head tilt, so I adjusted her neck. She held still while I worked down her back. There wasn’t the usual happy bouncing afterward, so I cleaned her ears. For a street dog, the ears weren’t bad.
This morning my gang buster girl was just flat. She held her head down in that way people usually associate with a guilty dog look. During our good morning ritual she could only manage a weak low tail wag. Blondie loves good mornings, now I’m worried.
Her back looked fine, so I cleaned her ears again, only deeper. Her tonsils could be a little swollen, this bitch looks sick.
She’s urinated three times this morning, a lot of bottom licking. The boys have been sniffing her rear and covering her urine, so I am going to go with bladder infection.
I can’t afford to get that other little bitch spayed. Money is so tight, I had to think how much.. Oh hell, she can’t wait til Monday. I have emergency antibiotics for a reoccurring infection. With a prayer Blondie got a dose.
A few hours later the big girl picked her head up and wagged her tail. We all know how it feels when you’re so sick and the antibiotics kick in, so you recognize the look.
To add to the excitement Stormy has a small cough tonight. I hope it’s from all the barking he’s been doing at Bluto.
Tomorrow is annual meeting for the Puerto Rican Animal Control Officers Asn or FOICCA. It’s in Florida, not the state; we’ve not been to this part of the island. So merrily we roll along.
We must get back to the three little snorts that say come hither. I overdid it yesterday. After a while they just look at me like you really don’t know what you’re doing; do you? If it’s in the wrong context, it gets ignored. When I manage to hit it right; it’s like getting my Spanish right, good communication.
Happy wiggle butts, Tricia
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