I talk a lot about how Rick and I live on the Island of Poordom. I am working up a series of Island of Poordom posts to further explain. Working on them…in my head that is. I barely seem to have time or focus for much outside of work and school, but the creative side of my brain never shuts off, so I’ve been working on them even if I haven’t outlined them as of yet. Last week was an emotional wake up call to me. Am I living the life I wanted? While I speak of the Island of Poordom a lot, I really don’t think that Rick and I are poor. I think we are “average” or perhaps “middle class”. I don’t know anymore what the economy considers that to be in terms of income statistically..that’s the part of that above mentioned work I haven’t done yet. But I digress now…. back to the reason for this post.
Oh man, I’m all over the place because this is the post where I tell you that Chloe is sick. She’s at the animal hospital right now. She started to ignore her food last week, but that was right as her bag of dog food ran out and I bought a new bag of her food that touted a “new and improved flavor” and I thought perhaps she wasn’t down with the new and improved. We started to feed her wet canned food, which she always loves and she did ok a few days and then it was a struggle with that too. Then she started to NOT jump up on the bed and couch….acting as if she wanted to but that she either a. couldn’t or b. it caused pain. I started to give her “elevator service” so she could still be where she wanted to be. Then she began to occasionally walk around and lift her leg in a strange manner. Today (Saturday) I was home with her all day. She mostly slept and didn’t jump up on any furniture (this is odd for her). I told Rick early Sat morning that when he got home from work we were taking her to the animal hospital. (same one she visited a few years ago when she munched down a bag of M&M’s…). Then I noticed some leakage from a strange area today when she was lovingly barking at my brother in law Doug who was outside the living room window. I decided something was definitely wrong with my baby girl. Thankfully Rick came home from work early.
So, we take her to the hospital and learn that she has pyometra, which is an infection of the uterus. Which if gone unchecked can often rupture and kill an animal. We never had her spade because she was a rescue dog and was already 2 when we got her. I will never get another dog and not spay her after this experience!! They tell us at 9 p.m. Sat night (it’s now 2:38 a.m.) that it’s an emergency and quote us a price of $1500. Ask me if I want to apply for credit. Um…yes. Remember the Island we live on? But in my head I’m calculating how I could rob from Peter to make it all happen no matter what, even if for some godawful reason they don’t give me the credit. THIS IS MY BABY….our child..(sans any human ones that we don’t jointly have together) and I couldn’t NOT help her. Her sweet face looking up at us like “help me…help me” was all it took. Besides, there’s little in life that gives me the same level of joy as Chloe does. I got the credit and signed the papers and said “go forth with fixing my sweetness” and kissed her while trying to act like all was fine. I mean I didn’t want her to panic seeing me upset too.
I just called the hospital to check on Chloe and was told that she hasn’t gone into surgery yet because they had two other emergencies come in but that she’s doing ok and has an IV hooked up and they’re getting ready to go. What animal trumped my baby Chloe? Blah..and blerghhh…. So…I’m drinking some hot cocoa and will try to go lay down and get some sleep I suppose. While I stood in the Animal Hospital trying to add up how to fit in a $1500 vet bill if necessary….I remembered this line from a poem I wrote for a collge course and then posted here last year…
Warm against my ankles, you’re prettier than shoes
I know that I would have paid it in cash from savings if necessary. I love her from the depths of my soul and I am not ready to let her go. We estimate that Chloe is 9 years old. We’ve had her since May of 2003, the year that Rick and I met…a mere 3 months into our relationship and she was roughly 2 when we got her from a family who just added a newborn and didn’t want her anymore. What a blessing for Rick and I! When we had the marital “discussion” about the financial aspect of getting her surgery, Rick kept repeating “do it…lets do it”. I could not see myself leaving there withotu her if I had any say or choice. We just don’t know how the world would feel without her. She’s so ours…she’s us…she’s so much a part of our life together. She’s my study buddy, my napping pal, my “bo bo, Chloe Oreo, Bo bo shish shish, B. Shish shish, Chloe’licious, my best little friend. She’s been there for me for the past 7 years. When I wake up in the morning, I want her to be ok. That is if I can even fall asleep… She’s worth every dime we can squeeze out of the Island of Poordom and then some. We love her so much!
