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"Killing Me Softly With His Song"
Email #1 - 8 June 2000
Starting last Wednesday, Derby started eating grass, which indicated she wanted to vomit...and that she did. About every month for her three years of life, she did just that, taking a couple of days off from eating anything.
This time she went three days, and on Saturday became totally dis-oriented...standing, and staring into space. That afternoon we quickly hustled her off to the emergency animal hospital in Melbourne...our Vet being closed for the weekend.
It didn't look good...but after two nights in Melbourne, she was recovered enough to transport to our local Vet on Monday morning. Though she couldn't spend the night at our Vet's place...there being no one there at night, she was alright coming home with us. She was still incoherent, but not vomiting, or standing, and staring.
Tuesday morning she began more tests at the Vet's, and by that afternoon, the Vet agreed with the Vets in Melbourne, that Derby has a bad pancreas - bad...not gone. Insulin shots were started, and we took her home. She ate her first meal in a week, scoffing it all down without hesitation. It is a special blend of canned food for diabetic dogs...quite expensive.
Wednesday morning I administered her shot for that day at 0800, and at 1600 a reading was taken at the vet's...no change in the sugar level, so it was upped a bit. Gave her that evening's shot, and then this morning ( Thursday ), another.
She is now almost back to old self, jumping up on the kitchen chair, to survey the food on the table, and barking because I was a couple of minutes late feeding her her's.
It's the food that came from the table that was killing her...we suppose. So...no more will she get anything other than what's in those cans, and some special diet ( very expensive ) doggy biscuits that look like bones. Thank goodness she likes this stuph. I have to give her this evenings injection soon, but if you're interested, here's a page I made today:
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Email #2 - 9 June 2000
Well...a better day for a change. Gave Derby her shot at 0730, and walked her for a half-hour. On return home she expected her liverwurst between two dog biscuits, but that's over forever. It's hard because she doesn't understand. I don't think she remembers being near death, nor the correlation between that, and her new routine. She looks at her one pathetic dog biscuit ( recommended ) with complete disappointment.
While I was at Publix, G gave her a portion of the dog food she is now on, the Vet suggesting three small portions, or two regular portions. I guess the three will have to be the rule...she's ravenish from rising to going to bed at night.
I wish I could get her interested in the computer instead of food, but I guess there's no hope there. After all we tried that with our email friends, and it didn't work. Ha Ha. I think I'll make a link to these letters just for posterity.
How'd you like that hypodermic needle I drew with Paint? I used to keep a few out in the open in the hospital on the ship when I was the Chief Mate. It discouraged the crew from visiting me at sick call.
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