Who says we don't look like our dogs?
Kira (my dog) is under the weather. She has had an upset stomach of the worst kind (speaking as the cleaning up person) ever since she was picked up from the kennel last Monday. Dave and I spent a glorious weekend in the Poconos with some really favorite friends hiking, biking, story telling, laughing, and eating great food (natch.) Kira and Rooty spent the time at "Mimi's Bed and Biscuit." From the name alone, you know this place is top shelf and the dogs get the utmost special treatment. Music, air conditioning, lots of socializing. Kira says, "Pfffthttt". Kira would like nothing better than to stay at home FOREVER and not be subjected to change, or vacation, or grandma's house, or vet visits, or God forbid...grooming. So when I picked her up I got the happy dance from go-with-the-flow Rooty and Kira looked askance and played the despondency/guilt card on me.
So the "squirts" started next day and the vet instructed us to give her the ol' Pepto Bismal treatment. I could tell you she hated it, but it would be obvious if you saw her with the now permanent pink whiskers that frame her lovely white face. Next we moved onto the rice and boiled hamburger diet- which she thought was great. However Dan Dan the Painter Man continues to work on the outside of our home and is surprising her (and all of us from time to time - just ask my husband about his streaking experience...) anyway, she FREAKS every time she sees him in the window. And then the mailman throws the mail through the slot and did I mention we've torn apart the kitchen moving their kennels (her safe haven) to a new location? THE GIRL IS STRESSED.
So today we made a trip over to the vet since I had to get up three times with her last night to make a yard run, and the stress diagnosis was called. She's taking some medicine to kill some the excess bacteria in her gut and on some special dog food, which she is tollerating thankfully. It's hard to explain to Rooty all the special treatment, including new food and car rides that Kira gets, so now I'm getting the silent treatment from her. We'll see how it goes.
I was so hoping for some good doggie antidepressants that I might perhaps test in my own wine glass, but the vet may have spotted the look of "close to the edge" on my own face and decided to stay away from that treatment altogether.
Oh well. Back to yoga. Ohmmmmmm.
Oh wait, it's Friday night. Back to merlot!