Monday, March 26, 2007

My Poor Dog...

My dog makes no sense.

When encountering any large, black thing that isn't moving--such as garbage cans, storm drains, and holes in the ground-- she crouches as low as possible to the ground and tries to skirt around it, expecting that at any moment it is going to spring to life and devour her. However, in the back yard, she routinely chases and jumps at any flying bug that passes before her curious snout. That's not such a great idea in Florida. I have seen her stand on her two back legs and jump after insects and wasps. Once, she snatched a moth out of the air right next to me and ate it before I could stop her. It took about .000005 seconds. It was only a matter of time before something turned the tables on her.

After calling her inside, she layed herself between the couch and the table and kept rubbing her snout repeatedly against the floor. Knowing that something wasn't quite right, I called to her. Instead of springing to me with her usual enthusiastic bounce, she slowly walked to me with her head down and ears back, reluctantly making her way across the room. Her face was completely swollen except for her right eye. Her nose and muzzle tripled in size and the flesh around her left eye was puffy, red, and left only a small opening to peer out of. She looked miserable.

Remembering a conversation with the vet from about a year ago, I recalled that he said dogs could take Benadryl for allergic reactions. I hurriedly dialed the vet and explained what was happening and they gave the correct dosage for her weight. She needed one tablet of Benadryl.

Of course we didn't have tablets; we had children's syrup. So I frantically searched the medicine cabinets for a plastic syringe used for dosing the kids. I found an old, dusty one. I washed it out, put 2 tsp of liquid in it, and laid Tink down to receive her medicine. Prying her swollen mouth open, I squirted the pink, bubble-gum flavor elixir into the back of her throat and prayed for the best.

It's been an hour and a half and she seems better, but still looks awful.

I guess tomorrow we'll see how much of a learning curve she has. If she is still jumping after and hunting every miscellaneous bug, then we'll know that our dog is a little shy of a full load of brains.

My poor, pitiful dog. Being beaten by a a measly wasp has got to be humiliating for her wolfish nature.

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