*Alternate title: “Nothin’s too good for my baby. Nothin’s too good for my girl.” But Stevie Wonder might sue me if I used that.

I got a voicemail from my sister wanting to know if Girl the Beagle was okay, which reminded me that I kind of didn’t finish discussing her latest stupid pet trick <My dog is so smart. My dog is so stupid (part 1) >. Oops.

The animal hospital was great. They let me come and visit her whenever I wanted, and I sat on the floor of the ICU holding and cooing at my stupid dog while she was miserable. And she was miserable. Besides feeling bad physically, there was a yappy-ass dog next to her that didn’t shut up.

They wouldn’t drug the yapper either—Hello people?! What’s the point of having the drugs if you don’t use them when needed?! Anyway, my poor stupid dog tried to come out of the kennel with me when I left, she cried out loud another time (NEVER heard that one before), and then once she just barked like “PLEASE don’t leave me here.” It was pretty gut-wrenching actually.

The ICU comprised stacks of kennels, big dogs laying out on pillows too drugged up/sick to move, and a table in middle for “procedures” like making my dog vomit, etc. The vets and techs just sorta walked around me, bringing an extra blanket when my puppy was shivering, checking her bandages ’cause her paw swelled when the IV was in, etc.  They were GREAT.


Also great was that there was neverthe hint of an accusation like “How the hell could you have left a bottle of meds. sitting on the table where she could get to it?!” (Answer would’ve been: “It had a hold-down-and-twist lid and the damn bottle had sat there for several weeks w/out her ever showing the slightest interest in it.”) But I didn’t have to answer because they didn’t ask…like I didn’t feel bad enough already anyway.

I went there a few times a day and after 48 hours they did bloodwork to check liver & kidney function. Through the magic of barfing and fluids, her numbers were comparable to bloodwork from the year before. She came home after 48 hours and was energetic for about 10 minutes, then lay down for some rest.

Her energy varied for the next couple of days, but when I took her to the “real” vet a couple of days later, she was so excited when we were done she barked (a lot—this is unusual except when about to go for a walk) and jumped around like a madwoman. Usually she just bolts for the door as though Bubba is chasing her, but she was fired up and excited and jumping around. That’s when I knew she was okay. And her bloodwork came back the same.

Since she’d been through so much trauma and since the IV had been placed in her “good” paw (causing her to compensate and use the arthritic one) I figured she needed a tuneup, so I brought her to the acupuncture vet a few days later. (Hell, what’s another hundred bucks at this point anyway…). Everyone knew what was going on since they had called to check on her and they welcomed her by calling her the miracle dog (that she is) and giving her lots of love.

Being a therapy dog, she thinks everyone must want to pet her anyway, so she took it in stride and accepted it. But in the end it was still the vet’s office,  so she tried escaping through 3 different doors and slobbered nervously all over the tech while the doctor examined her (but NOT, I want to point out, while she was being needled).

 not Girl but note the needles. She usually gets more.

Since then she’s been back to her pre-overdose “new normal” satanic self: not listening, jumping on people (hadn’t done that in YEARS prior to dogupuncture), running (ditto), barking happily when I get home or fill her toy with treats, acting more playful, forcing me to take her on more walks to burn off excess energy.

So the summary is this: I paid pretty much money to get her sort of back to her old self (via Rimadyl), then I paid a lot of money to get her totally back to her old self (via dogupuncture), then paid a ton of money to get her to stay alive after she injested her “almost her old self” medicine that I’d paid a lot of money to get her off of. Then I paid some more to make sure she was really back to her old new old self (the 2nd bloodwork) and then even more to “reboot” and get her back to her old new old dogupunctured self.

It’s more than a little ironic that I’d have to pay for the dogupuncture to get off the Rimadyl, then pay to keep her alive after she OD’d on the Rimadyl that used to make her better. And then pay again for more dogupunture so she could feel the way she felt after I paid the 2nd time to get her to her old self.


Hell I can’t even keep up with this—I hope you can.