After that, everything was fine until Thursday, and then my tummy started feeling a little weird -- but not weird enough to affect my appetite. I ate all my supper, and I also went out in the yard and ate a bunch of grass. Then on Friday morning, really early, I puked up all the grass, plus some pieces of bone. This all happened before Mom got up. And when she did get up, she saw that I had puked by the back door. Also I really, really needed to go outside and poop, which I did as soon as she opened the door.
Mom cleaned up my puke, and she saved the pieces of bone, and then later on, she went out and tried to find my poop in the yard, which she finally did, behind the shed. There were no big pieces of bone in my poop, but Mom was worried that maybe there were still some pieces stuck inside me somewhere. I could have told her that I felt pretty good by then, but she would have worried anyway, because that's what moms do.
Anyway, I ate my breakfast just fine, and then Mom took Barry and me to Shawnee Mission Park, which she had already been planning to do. We had a great time there, but I can't show you any pictures because Mom didn't take her camera. The only bad thing was that I had some soft poop when we first got there, and then when we were down by the lake, I had a little diarrhea that was very watery.
Of course, Mom started worrying again, even though I was really feeling okay. I even found a couple of piles of fresh dirt, right beside the trail, and Mom said they were mole hills. I got very excited and started digging and sticking my nose in there because I could smell the mole. Mom let me dig a little bit because she didn't really think I would be able to catch the mole, and she was right. But I really like to dig into a hole where some yummy-smelling animal lives. Mom says this is the terrier in me, because I probably have some terrier genes in addition to my whippet and German shepherd genes.
But anyway, after we got home from the park, Mom called the vet's office, and told them about the bones I ate and puked up, and they said she should bring me in so that Dr. Patricia could examine me. I did not like this idea at all, but no one asked my opinion. I get very nervous at the vet's office, and my legs shake really hard. People tell me I don't need to be scared, and that I shouldn't shake like that, but I can't help it.
So we went to the vet's office, and we waited, and then when it was finally our turn to see Dr. Patricia, Mom put my muzzle on me. Dr. Patricia looked at my gums to see if they were pale, and I snapped at her, even with the muzzle on. But my gums were not pale, so that was good. Then she listened to my heart and she squeezed my insides, and it sort of hurt, so she said I needed an x-ray.
Dr. Patricia told Mom to give me twice as much Metronidazole for the next few days as what I usually get because she said that eating bones was not good for a dog like me who has inflammatory bowel disease. Dr. Patricia also said that maybe the bones were from a pork chop because a local grocery store had a sale on pork chops recently. Mom said she was hoping the bones were the remains of some prehistoric animal killed by Neanderthals, but Dr. Patricia said she doubted that the bones were that old. I doubt it, too, because if the bones were that old, I think they would have been all dry and tasteless, which these bones were not.
Anyway, my little examination and x-ray cost $180. Mom was not happy to have to spend more money on vet bills when she just had to buy new tires last week for her car, and soon we'll be getting a new garage door that will cost about $700. But I don't worry about money. That's Mom's job, because it's what moms do.
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