The Battle

Some days I sit and wait for the other shoe to drop.  You know, the one that squashes you flat into a ball of misery and negativity.  This morning I woke up to the pleasant surprise of slushy, messy, wet snow.  Growling with frustration, I did what I could for my animals and left to earn the bacon that buys the hay and dog food.  I spent a good portion of the day worrying about the pups.  It was below freezing and wet.  

When I returned home, I discovered the diarrhea that I thought had been taken care of was back with a vengeance.  Ryder, was a stinking, shooting machine.  The poor little fart *literally* was not feeling well.  I decided he couldn't have any food and a limited amount of water.  Examining his exhibits I noticed that they were a bit on the mucousy side, often meaning an infection of some type.  Pulling out the ProGut (doggy peptobismal) I gave him a shot and went about making him a home in the garage where I could turn on the heat.  I just couldn't justify not feeding the dog and then booting him outside on the coldest and wettest night of the year - the night he'd need those calories the most.  

Poor Diva got dragged out of her house to keep him company.  Tomorrow will bring another call into the vet to see what she wants to have happen.  I'm guessing we'll be looking at antibiotics and another tube of ProGut (which I'm almost out of).  

Poor little tyke was having a tough time of it.  Here's hoping for a speedy recovery.