Inconveniently ill

My eyes are drooping as I type this.  I had hoped that I would come in, order a takeaway, eat said takeaway and go to bed.  Instead, I came in, dithered over take away, couldn't find a phone to call takeaway, changed mind about takeaway, ordered an online takeaway and now I'm in the process of waiting for an hour for said takeaway to arrive.  By which time, I'll either have died of hunger or fallen asleep in my chair.  In the meantime, I decided to write a blog explaining why I'll be falling asleep in my chair and here it is:

Last night was hectic.  As a rule, I don't live a particularly hectic life.  I, like Caesar, like my set routine and anything out of the ordinary stresses me.  I do love a good meal out now and again but the thought of returning home later than usual is highly inconvenient as it means that I have to miss parts of my routine.  Then the question is; which parts?  What do I sacrifice?  Last night was the date of the monthly writing club that I have begun to attend.  It was my second meeting so I still felt the butterflies in my stomach as I considered reading my writing out loud.  The previous time, I had lost my balance and felt faint as I'd tried to read.  Anyhow, I rushed to my parents after work to print the chapter of the book which I was to present.  Then, not having time to go home, I rushed straight to the club.  I didn't get home until after 9.  The door was locked.

Correctly assuming that Damien was at the gym, I hunted for my key and unlocked the door, bracing myself for a cuddle and kiss from Caesar.  It didn't come.  The house was silent and there was no sign of him in the living room.  I searched upstairs and found him snuggled up on my bed - not unusual and with the cold I thought nothing more of it.  Later, he pottered downstairs and tried to climb on my knee, I gave him a quick cuddle but he jumped off a few moments later.  Then, he began hiccup-retching and licking his lips manically.  I've seen this before, it usually means that he's going to be sick.  I patted his back and waited but nothing happened.  This went on for almost an hour.  

Eventually, I resorted to the font of all knowledge - the internet.  By this point it was late and I sat in bed by the glow of my iPad.  I kept coming up with the same answer GDV - Gastric torsion.  I'd never heard of it.  The more I looked, the more I panicked.  Until, eventually, I decided to ring the 24hr helpline offered to me by my pet insurance.  The nurse at the other end of the phone (after slyly confirming that this was not a pre-existing condition with questions like 'have you currently got a vets appointment booked? - What is it regarding?') confirmed my worst fears.  "That sounds like it could be a gastric twist," she said.  By this point I was out of bed and already pulling off my pyjamas and throwing on my clothes.  Caesar, who didn't want to move, lay breathing heavily on the bed.  I could feel my hand shaking as she instructed me not to 'panic' - clearly not someone who has met me before.  If I do one thing well, it's panicking!  I can send myself into a panicky frenzy over just about anything.  In the Summer of 2005, I convinced myself I had Bird Flu just because I panicked so much about getting it.  I can panic about anything.  In fact, I now try to avoid the news as much as possible due to the fact that it has this horrendous effect on me.  

The overly calm nurse instructed me to call my vets as soon as possible and follow the procedure for the out of hours clinic.  "Follow your vet's advice," she told me.  I wasn't planning on ignoring it.

As the line connected to the vet, I began to talk hurriedly.  "He has a swollen stomach, he's shaking, he's licking his lips and doing hiccuppy type gagging noises," I told her.
"He's feeling sick," she confirmed.  This I was pretty sure of.  Before she continued, Caesar contributed to the conversation with a giant belch.  "That's good," she said.  'It might be good for you, you're not sitting next to him' I thought. 

Caesar didn't want to move; just lie on the bed.

The vet quickly explained that a gastric twist means that air is stuck in the dogs abdomen and this can be fatal.  She told me that, had this been the case, I would have seen his condition deteriorating rapidly, usually over 15-20 minutes.  She also assured me that I'd been right to call and explained that she could look Caesar over if I would like but, as he had burped and then pumped another twice since the phone conversation, she was fairly sure he was just feeling sick.  At the worst, she thought he may have a blockage.  "Keep an eye on him tonight," she offered, "then bring him in in the morning."  I kept to my word.  Throughout the night, I watched him carefully and observed his breathing and temperature.

This morning, the alarm called me from my disturbed sleep at 6:45 and Caesar bounded out of bed, tail wagging and went to wait for his breakfast.  I dropped Caesar at my parents' just to ensure that he wasn't ill while I was at work.  He had a whale of a time.  This morning, he bounded around the house excitably, this afternoon he jumped on my dad's friend's knee and knocked his coffee from his hand.  He had the time of his life all day!  I, on the other hand, struggled through twelve hours at work almost having to hold my eyes open with matchsticks!  

"Yes, he's been great all day - you sound a bit tired..."

Has your dog ever taken ill suddenly?  Was it serious or, like Caesar, did it pass by the next day?  

Caesar's gifts to me...

Over the past 18 months Caesar has given me many a gift.  The gift of an excuse to buy a new handbag each time he tears one of mine to pieces, a few little gifts left around the house when we brought him home (of the smelly variety) and, on the odd occasion, the gift of tidying up the kitchen by eating all of its contents.  But these are minor gifts.  What we have earned and learned through owning him has been so much greater.

Some say that you make your own luck.  I suppose in many ways that's true.  I can't deny that I have a bit of an appetite for drama. However, things do have a way of happening to me with the worst possible timing.  Luckily, I've been able to turn things on their head and use them as fuel for my book/blog.  After all, if I didn't have a horrendously mischievous dog,  then I'd have nothing to talk or write about so I see Caesar as a gift; the gift of conversation.  The gift of a good story.

I also see him as a challenge.  I love challenges; even though I love, equally, to complain about them.  I enjoy the pang of anticipation when you think of something new to try or when you see even the smallest bit of progress.  I love knowing that, or at least thinking that, I've made a difference.  

There's something about those eyes...

It's fair to say that most dogs like routine.  We all like routine in our own way.  Yes, in some ways it's boring and repetitive but at least you know where you stand with a good routine.  Caesar does not just like routine, he is obsessive about it!  He gets up at the same time each day.  First he goes to the toilet, then he comes in and sits in the same spot at the left of the door to the kitchen, he waits and is given 3 breakfast biscuits.  He has his dinner at the same time each evening.  He's almost like a walking egg timer - if you aren't awake at his specified time, he sits outside of the door and howls.  If you are not in the kitchen providing him with his evening meal at precisely 6 o'clock, he stares at you and cries until you get up and do it.

I understand she's in China...but I'm sure that clock says 6 o'clock
and that's tea time isn't it???

Most Wednesday nights for the past year and a half, Caesar and I have attended a training class.  While, at first, he found it a little over stimulating, particularly the aspect of it that involved being surrounded by other dogs, he has actually grown to quite enjoy it.  Over the holidays though, we have been away and so has our trainer so it has been a good few weeks since we had attended.  This was enough to make Caesar a little edgy.  However, when we had to go into the hall a different way, it was all too much.  He didn't want to go through the other doors and screeched and cried, he howled and barked at the other dogs.  Someone new gave me a look as if to say "is he safe to be out in public?"  I blushed as I wrestled him through the kitchen, hoping that his noisiness would subside once we got into the hall.  I noticed the person in front wincing at the ear splitting howling that was going on.    

Luckily, having attended the same training class over a prolonged period of time, many attendees do know that Caesar is primarily a harmless noise maker and have grown to like him despite this.  So, I sat between two of them.  Caesar, for whatever reason, was not feeling the love tonight.  He had his tail between his legs and was making a whining noise.  "Oh dear," said one of the others.  "He looks a bit down on himself tonight."  I couldn't lie, he did a bit.  She addressed Caesar, "You're beautiful," she said to him, "Can he have a treat?"
I nodded  "if you don't mind."
Talking gently to Caesar, she handed over a treat.  His tail wagged madly and he could hardly keep his front feet on the floor as she leaned over with one.  Everything seemed to have returned to normality as the training session commenced.

Caesar: The king of the dejected look.

Moments later, I glanced at Caesar, only to see him sitting in front of the same woman, giving her the most forlorn look that I have ever seen!  There was nothing wrong with him, he was just looking for sympathy treats!

They don't feed me you know...I have to survive off things
that I can steal from the bin.

As if that wasn't enough, when she eventually cottoned on to his trick and had to lift the collar of her shirt to that she could not see his dejected look, he turned his attention to the dog owner at the other side!  His expression was so convincingly pained and frightened that they too took pity on him.  By the end of the training session, we were crying laughing.  He's obviously associated looking badly done to with receiving treats!  

I'm sorry that it had to come to this.  But I did tell
you 5 minutes ago that it was 6 o'clock!

How far would your dog go for a tasty morsel?  Let me know in the comments section.