From Mardi Gras to Massage

Dearest Readers,

At the risk of sounding repetitive, it’s been a ruff week.  It all started with Momma leaving a Mardi Gras necklace on the floor (don’t even ask) where I would be sure to chew it up.  When Momma came downstairs and found me looking at the little beads all over the floor, she almost cried.  (“Oh, Lina, please tell me that you didn’t eat any of those beads!”)  I actually couldn’t remember so I just gave her my “I’m pretty adorable look, aren’t I?” look.

Anxious to get on to her next task, and pretty sure I wouldn’t have eaten the beads (they wouldn’t taste that good, she reasoned), she scooped up the mess and threw it in the garbage.  Then she checked with my sitter and animal chiropractor, Dr. Becca, who advised her to watch me and look for signs of an intestinal blockage, which would include vomiting and diarrhea.

Two days later, I had diarrhea and the next morning I vomited.  Uh-oh.  Momma quickly went into full panic mode, and decided she better determine if any beads were actually missing from the necklace that was still in the garbage.  She fished out the beads (some still on a string) and counted seventy-nine.

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Then she counted the number of beads on two intact necklaces for comparison purposes.  There were eighty-two on both.  After another more in-depth dumpster dive, Momma happily found three more beads, and concluded she hadn’t almost killed me after all.

But symptoms — including not being able to go poops when I tried — continued, and the next night she took me to the emergency vet clinic (the car almost drove there itself).  After checking me in, Momma took me out to try for potty once more — and I think you know what happened next — success!

Thinking it was a little late to back out, and wanting to have me checked over anyway, just in case there was such a thing as Mardi Gras bead poisoning, I was forced to go through a horrible battery of tests and the usual anal gland expression before we were sent on our way.  $594.41 poorer.  Although the tests all came out normal, I was given antibiotics and by the next morning I was fine.  In case you are a new reader to my blog, this routine goes on all the time at our house.

The Massage!

Last year for Christmas, Dr. Becca had given me a massage gift certificate with Jenny Gott of Animal Intuition (check her out at http://www.animal-intuition.com).  Realizing she had put me through vet hell again, Momma thought this would be the perfect time to treat me with the massage.  Plus, it is almost Christmas again, and she thought she had better use it up or it would seem like we didn’t appreciate the gift (or didn’t want another one).

The massage was beyond wonderful.  All the stress of the week fell away and I felt like a new dog.  Here I am with Jenny luxuriating in the experience, and getting my post-massage treat and gift!

As you can see, it was a slice of heaven.  For all of you humans reading this post, may I suggest a massage with Jenny for your pet this Christmas?

Lina, Persecuted and Pampered

WOOFDA!

7 thoughts on “From Mardi Gras to Massage

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