6AM is NOT my Time Du Jour....

So, a week ago, I saw Sondheim on Sondheim with my girls- we sang, we laughed, we shed a tear or two when the Clowns were sent in. It was a very interesting show- Sondheim had a quite a life. Needless to say, I got home around 11:30 and my sweet puppy greeted me with a lukewarm, "You're home." Not that she wasn't excited but normally I get greeted with loving "WHERE THE %$#@$^ HAVE YOU BEEN!". I figured that it was late, she was tired, I sang Being Alive while we walked and we went to bed. In the morning, I woke up of my own accord at 7:30. This is unheard of in life After Puppy. Ripley wouldn't come out of her crate. Then she wouldn't drink. Or move. Her eyes became cloudy, her gait stiff, her appetite non-existent. I carried her out to do her business and she needed to be carried back in. Oh, and steadied while she did it. I took her to the vet. We started antibiotics. I set the alarm every hour through the night to look at her. I carried her ice cubes to lick. By Thursday, it was a bit better and then much worse. By the time we got to our favorite Vet Hospital- Ripley had a fever of 105.8 (102 is HIGH in puppies), mucous coming out of her eyes, and was most definitely not herself.

They did blood tests, tick panels, ultrasounds, x-rays. They put her on IV fluids, uber-strong antibiotics, pain killers. By Saturday, she hadn't walked in days and the blood cultures take time to reveal anything so they needed to tap her joints to know if they could start her on steroids for her extreme swelling in the joints and the pain. On Saturday, when I went to visit- I climbed into her crate and did not wanna leave. Her little shave-n, swollen joints broke my heart. It was awful.

However, the steroids worked wonders. Plus it was Day 4 of uber-steroids and she ate a little breakfast in Sunday. She got to come home last night with a shit load of meds, a crazy look, and no college fund left. (Vet Hospitals are helpful but not cheap). She is still not herself but she is closer. Much, much closer. We are still waiting for the blood/tick results to tell us why this all happened. Apparently, odds are its either a tick borne illness or an auto-immune blood deficiency. Either way... my poor, poor pup.

Whilst she was in the hospital- I got some advice, did some research, had a fever myself (I am going to snitch some of Ripley's antibiotics soon) and decided you are indeed what you eat. I have eaten a box of Oreo's new Fudge Creams today and I fed my mother oyster crackers during her recent visits. So when I say you are indeed what you eat, I am talking about Ripley. (That being said, based on my diet since her return- I am delicious!)

Do you know what is in pet food? Yeah, me neither. So, while we are waiting for the bubble I have ordered for Ripley to live in- I am going to make her food. Yesterday, I boiled my first chicken. I shredded it, I measured it and put some in the freezer, some in the fridge. I made brown rice. I made carrots & peas. I bought the best food avails on the market which is delightfully called Hund-N-Flocken. I saved the broth from the boiling of the chicken. And this morning, I was excited to be feeding my dog the best possible thing. (I had two more Oreos and some Thera Flu).

While getting the broth out of the fridge, I dropped it. Broth (mostly coagulated as I forgot to strain it) EVERYWHERE! While grabbing for paper towels, I knocked the rice down, too. At which point, I should have just thrown down some chicken and let Ripley have at it!

I mean, really. The best, laid intentions...

6AM is NOT my time du jour.....