We could go back pretty far to find the root of all the events which occurred in the past 18 hours or so. Could be last March when we decided to dive in and get a service dog. It could go back to when we were finishing our basement and we decided to go with the pump to get the waste water up to the main stack. We could go back to when we started having kids, which would then have us digging out the basement (with 5-gallon buckets) to make room for our growing children.
After winning the first game of the tournament, Maggie’s soccer team had just lost six to nil in the second game. It was a triple digit degree day, and still hot driving home at 830. I looked forward to a cold beer and an early bedtime.
And then (1)
Walking in the door at nine, I was happy to find leftover burritos in the fridge. Normally not one to be an audience of boys playing Xbox, I quickly learned why Heather was in the TV room with Declan and two of his friends. “Declan has lice!” Have you seen Declan’s hair recently? The lice had hit the Trifecta, the Club Med for Lice. Vacation for the lice is over and just in time for our vacation to begin; we are set to fly to visit family in San Diego in just over a day. Note to self: call and tell sis that we are traveling with some unwanted baggage.
And if you are one of those people who gets grossed out by the mention of lice, then you are probably in the group that either has young kids or no kids. Just wait. And don’t freak out when it comes.
Heather was toiling over Dec’s scalp after the treatment, nit-picking, literally (that is where the term originated). I was trying to enjoy my luke-warm, half-eaten, chicken burritos, trying not to overheat as the heat of the day did not relent to any evening cool breeze. It was as if we were back in Arlington, VA.
I noticed Bear was conspicuously absent from the scene. It being so hot, he might be down in the basement where it is slightly more inhabitable. What garbage was he finding? What shoe was being torn apart as he played unsupervised in the cool of the basement?
Finishing the burritos, I search for Bear in the basement and actually felt a slight chill in the cool air of the basement. Bear was nowhere to be found, however. He was not in his crate that he has begun heading to on his own for his incessant naps. He was not in Maggie’s room, a favorite of his with hidden snacks all over the place. He was not in Declan or Fiona’s room. Turns out he was upstairs sleeping in our room. And he had a little throw up on the carpet earlier that Heather didn’t have time to clean up.
And then (2)
Bear was clearly not feeling well. He turned his head away when offered food and water. After witnessing Bear dry-heaving, bringing back memories of college, I tried to feed a Pepto-Bismol to settle things. It worked for me back in the day. However, he doesn’t even take the cheese wrapped Pepto-Bismol that he normally dances for. Could it be that he’d moved up to larger Lego pieces and the 2×4 piece was now somewhere stuck? More memories of retching to get every last drop from the evening help me empathize with Bear attempting to expunge something from his body.
Bear does settle down a bit, goes to the bathroom outside, and is ready for a good night’s rest. Nit-picking is complete, Bear settled on his bed, and we are ready to call it a night, finally.
Bear dry-heaves again and I decide to call the veterinarian. After being told that things can go downhill pretty quick with a dehydrated puppy, I pack up and take him across town to Dove Lewis pet-hospital. They tell me that we should go in the side entrance as there could be potentially dangerous germs to keep Bear away from. This is what I heard, but on reflection I realize they wanted us going in the side door to protect all the other dogs that might be in the main lobby.
After a quick physical, the vet says there may be something blocking his intestine. He was in a lot of pain in one particular spot in his lower intestine. “Is there anything that he could have eaten recently?” she asks. Legos and Nerf bullets run aplenty in our home and are available like food at a Las Vegas buffet. Damn it, he got into the Indiana Jones set and was able to force a figurine down.
Bear being 14 weeks old and having already received three of the four Parvo vaccinations, it is unlikely that it is Parvo, but the vet needs to rule this out. So a swab of stool is tested.
A mere twenty minutes later, slightly longer than a pregnancy test, but looking just like a store-bought pregnancy test, the Parvo test is positive. This is when I realize that we were brought in the side entrance for just this situation. Parvo is an extremely resilient, deadly virus. High and low estimates are presented for Bear’s stay in the isolation ICU. I ask if this will keep him from going to Kristin’s to be boarded while we are away in San Diego.
The enormity of Parvo has not hit me, and I wonder if I’ll be able to pick him up before Maggie’s 1030 am game. The timing and location of her game was perfect. We’d take Bear to the game, which was way out in Hillsboro, but very close to Forest Grove, where Kristin lives. The vet very gently lets me know that it is unlikely he’ll be released later in the day (it being 130 in the morning by this time, game time is a mere nine hours away).
After nearly maxing out my credit card, Bear is taken to isolation ICU. Before leaving I have to dip my feet in some solution to shed the Parvo, if any remained on me.
As the reality of Parvo sinks in, and the explanation of the danger of it and how it is transmitted, I manage to send an email to Kristin to let her know that Bear is Parvo positive. It’s possible that other puppies he has played with have Parvo. Bear could have gotten it from them, or he could have given it to them.
And then (3)
After each training session with Kristin, Bear goes on recess with his litter-mates and other dogs that she is training. The favorite by far was Calvin. Super mellow, Calvin would saunter up and lean up against you, nosing your hand to give him a pet. He was the Mr. McGoo of the group.
Kristin’s message back at 730 the next morning is concern for Bear, hoping that he will pull through, and that Calvin was in a drug-induced coma, and that she might have to put him down. She did have to put him down, and a large brain tumor is believed to be the cause.
And then (4)
Declan and his friends are up, having breakfast and getting set for a day of Xbox and swimming. Heather and I are trying to pick up the pieces before heading to Maggie’s game, then to visit Bear, then back to another game, and then back home to pack and get ready for our 630 am flight. Still unsettled is where Bear will be when released from the hospital.
I send the boys down to brush teeth, hoping that Declan will find the tooth fairy’s gift. He lost a tooth while I was at Dove Lewis. As I’m packing Bear’s pen and bed up, I hear the boys screaming that the bathroom is covered in water. F***!!
This goes back to digging the basement out and having the pump eject waste-water up to the main stack. Intermittently, the pump will be on but not pumping anything out. This causes water to back up out of the floor drain in the laundry room, and in this case the toilet never switched off after a flush. The turn off valve never switched off, so the water just kept flowing, and with nowhere to go, it flowed over onto the tile in the bathroom and out into the hallway. The good news is that the water flowing in the basement is clean, straight from the tap, almost.
Not sure why this gets the pump to work, but I merely have to unplug it and plug it back in and then it is able to work. Every towel in the house is down soaking up a small portion of the water. Did I mention that we are going to San Diego the next morning?
After several times wringing out towels in the bath and reapplying to the floor I have the stroke of genius to borrow Aaron’s steam cleaner to suck up the water.
It’s 1015 and we have to leave to catch some of Maggie’s game, which happens to be a mere five miles from Kristin’s house, where Bear was supposed to stay.
On our way home we visited Bear. He is not doing that well. A cone around his head and an IV in his leg, he struggles to keep his head up. The tech said that he was better in the morning, and even ate a bit, but after a giant diarrhea, he was clearly feeling worse. He has not hit bottom. We are hoping a bottom occurs that he climbs out of. At this point they can only support him, providing hydration and nutrition. He is also on some pain killers.
We are hopeful that he rebounds and is able to be picked up by friends who will care for him until we return.