If you have your Big Book of June Events before you and open to page 859, you recall that Tallulah has a urinary tract infection, and as far as I knew she wasn't even seeing anyone, so. The doctor gave her some amoxicillin, which by the way I'm allergic to, so every morning and evening when I dropped a pill in her dish I expected to drop dead after it.
But Saturday morning she walked over to me and was shaking. I took video of it, which I showed you the other day, and it wasn't the horrific mom-and-Unkkle-Ned-in-a-fight trembling she used to do, but she was still Katherine Hepburning it up. So I did the adult thing and cried and called my mother. We decided I should grow a pair and also take her into the emergency place.
Edsel was worried sick. Really, though, any other time that I'd get her leash and not his would have caused him to whine to all new decibels, and protest in the street with signs (Der something happening heer. Wut it be ain't exacctly cleer. But Eds despondint.), and raise his fist in despair like Scarlet after the radish. But that day he just calmly watched us go. He knew.
Turns out the emergency vet is my joint. Not only do they serve really excellent coffee, of which I drank an urn because I was there ALL AFTERNOON, but also there's an allergist there, and therefore all sorts of people bringing their allergic dogs, with their dog Kleenexes and inhalers.
Oh my god, that was like my porn. I met a most excellent Pitty puppy with a red nose who I would marry; and I met a ludicrous Puggle, whom I watched while his mom went to the bathroom, and by the time she was done I had made the hard and fast decision to never get a fucking Puggle, oh my god.
There was an enormous brindle Pit mix who smiled and put his huge square head on my lap. There was a Pom who looked like a stuffed animal and had such a sweet curly-up tongue.
"Can I just come here and be a greeter?" I asked the receptionist, with whom I became blood sisters, practically. Did I mention I was there all day?
After they drew my dog's blood with red crayons, and took urine--which was no problem because UTI--they also took some x-rays, and right then I knew: poorhouse. Still, look how you can totally tell that's my Lu, with her swoop. I want to kiss her four hundred thousand dollar x-ray.
Those dark parts are gas, they said. You didn't have to tell ME that.
Selfie with my dog's bone parts.
So, we learned she has an antibiotic-resistant UTI, which sounds like it must be fun to have, and also arthritis in her back, which ditto. She has stronger antibiotics, she'll stay on Prozac because they noted her anxiety, even though she charmed them by getting her own self up on the x-ray table. "Lu do. She indeeeependint. Also, stay away from Lu bladder, Handsy Fuk."
They awarded her for her behavior with a certificate. My Lu.
They also loaded her up with fluids so she'd pee a lot, and shot her with heroin or something, because when that dog came out, she was not my dog. She almost scared me, so blank was her look on the drive home. She clearly did not know shit from Shineola on the way home.
Also, I JUST deposited that enormous check I got from the statistics textbook company. In your Big Book O' June Events, I spent all of Christmas proofreading a 500-age statistics textbook so that with the extra money I could make improvements to my house.
It all went to my dog's bladder instead.
I was supposed to give my money Pit her new meds right away with dinner, but when we got home, I put food in her dish and for the first time in her entire life, she didn't eat it. That is when I cried again.
Fortunately, the magic powers of peanut butter worked, and she commenced to lying motionless on the floor for the rest of the night.
I stayed up till THREE A.M. watching that dog, which was a combo of being worried and urn of coffee. I finally carried her to bed and woke up 70 times to pet her. Which I am certain was not annoying at all.
In the night, we had a snowstorm. Marty Martin was supposed to come fix my DVD player for me. "I can still come. Let me just get my snow tires on and I'll be there." It's a true friend who braves weather like this, but brave it he did.
"Am I gonna have to pet him the whole time?" Marty asked. What is he, new? In a piece of info that will shock you, Edsel loved his Unkkle Marteee Martinz.
Unkkle MM fixed everything and now I have me the Netflix and the Hulus and anything you'd want to see on your TV. This is all great, and when I'm not just watching Bewitched reruns like I usually do, it will come in handy.
But today Tallulah is still shaking even though she on her pain meds. As soon as I'm done talking to you, Ima call the vet because they just opened. I can't stand it that my poor girl is sick. Further reports as developments warrant.
Conceredly,
Jooon
P.S. Oh, crap. Here's my latest Purple Clover. I kind of loved myself for this one.
