So it turns out Coco didn’t just have a stomach bug. It was something more serious, something she’d eaten that was blocking her stomach, and she had to have emergency surgery yesterday afternoon. She came though it okay, and stayed at the vet last night. She’ll have to be there until Thursday at the earliest. And even though they told me she’s okay, I was up all night worrying and tossing and turning. They said we could come visit her today, and I’m about to call over there to get her latest status. But man, has this been a rotten twenty four hours or so.
It’s amazing how much you can get used to something. We’ve had Coco almost a year, and last night, walking around the house without her following along behind me, dropping her toys at my feet every time I stopped for even one second, just broke my heart. Regular readers of this page know that it wasn’t that long ago that I lost my dog Scout, and this whole episode has been just a little bit too familiar for my taste.
And the thing is, they don’t even know what the blockage was. Which is making me nuts, because I keep thinking it was my fault, if I’d only been watching her more closely. But you know how puppies are, they’ll eat anything. It could have been a moth or a piece of wood or even some fuzz from her favorite chicken. Still, I keep thinking back, wondering what I could have done differently. It’s making me nuts.
Anyway. I know this is a downer of an post, but I honestly don’t have it in me to do much else until I can go see for myself that she’s all right. I promise once that happens, I’ll be back to write about Veronica Mars and that new book club show and everything else. But in the meantime, if you had a moment to think a good thought for Coco, I’d appreciate it. Thanks.