This afternoon Herbie was eating his duck stick like a little piggy.
Next, he made funny sounds and couldn't catch his breath.
I picked him up, burped him like a baby,
patted him on his sides because something was wrong.
He just sort of folded up on the bench so I grabbed him up in my arms,
jumped into the car and
headed a couple of blocks
down the street to the Animal Hospital emergency room.
The receptionist reached over the counter and took
him and rushed to ICU.
Fear is such a bugger.
I was scared because I brought a dog in there once before
and that dog died.
I couldn't sit down and read a magazine.
I didn't want to talk to anyone.
I got a glass of water and drank it,
then another one until my name was called..
The Vet told me I did the right thing...
that he was a little "blue" when he came in.
(I wondered what part of him was blue?
I only know about people...you know lips, fingernails)
Anyway, he managed to swallow big and moved it on down and he was fine.
The only way I got through this scary event was by praying.
I asked St. Francis to help intercede because
he loved animals. And added my usual prayers of comfort.
I consider myself his "Dog Mother!"
The slogan for mothers of animals and children is the same:
"When a mother thinks something is amiss, something is amiss.
When a mother thinks something is wrong, something is wrong."