Our household is in full-on crisis mode because our beloved dog is sick. And when a 75-pound dog, who usually gallops around like a small horse suddenly turns into a sad, motionless lump of fur, it’s enough to send any dog owner into a full-blown panic.
Sweets has been throwing up for two days, hasn’t eaten in a day, and, perhaps most alarmingly, has not delivered her usual yard presents for the past 48 hours. Now, under normal circumstances, this would be great news for my lawn. But considering that Sweets usually approaches her bathroom habits with the reliability of an atomic clock, this is cause for major concern.
The Vet Visit: Where Nothing is Ever Definitive
Like any responsible dog parent, we rushed her to the vet yesterday, hoping for answers. Instead, we got what all pet owners secretly fear: the dreaded vague diagnosis.
“Her heart and lungs sound good,” the vet said. “Her abdomen isn’t tender, nothing feels twisted or out of place.”
Which is vet-speak for: I have no idea what’s wrong with your dog, but let’s both pretend I do while I poke her belly in a reassuring manner.
Of course, I pressed for more information. “So, what do we do?”
The vet shrugged in the way only a professional who has seen way too many panicked pet owners can. “We gave her a shot for nausea. If she’s not better by Saturday, bring her back for blood work.”
Blood work. The last thing any pet owner wants to hear. Because blood work means the vet bill is about to go from mild inconvenience to selling a kidney on the black market.
Sweets’ Current Status: The World’s Saddest German Shepherd
Since coming home, Sweets has spent her time alternating between lying on her dog bed looking miserable and following me around the house with big, droopy, guilt-inducing eyes. She’s acting as if she’s auditioning for the role of “Most Pathetic Dog in America.”
Normally, this dog inhales food like she’s training for a competitive eating contest. Drop a crumb on the floor, and she will teleport to its location faster than light itself. But now? Now she turns up her nose at her favorite treats, which is basically the dog equivalent of an alien invasion happening right outside our window and her deciding to take a nap instead of investigating.
Meanwhile, our other dog, Dolly, is thriving in Sweets’ weakened state. She now gets all the treats, all the attention, and, best of all, the biggest portion of dinner. If she had the ability, she’d be rubbing her paws together like a cartoon villain.
The Waiting Game (Also Known as My Descent into Madness)
The hardest part of all of this is the waiting. Dogs can’t tell you what’s wrong, which means I’m left diagnosing her based on a combination of gut instinct and what I can Google without spiraling into a full-blown anxiety attack.
The problem with Googling pet symptoms is that the internet only gives you two options:
- “It’s totally fine! Just let it pass.”
- “Say goodbye now because your dog has a week to live.”
There is no middle ground. None.
So now, I’m trapped in an endless cycle of checking on her every five minutes, poking her gently to make sure she’s still breathing, and trying (and failing) to not overreact. My wife keeps reminding me that dogs get sick sometimes, but she doesn’t understand. This is Sweets. My baby. My velcro dog. The furry shadow who has been glued to my side since the day we adopted her.
And so, we wait. If she’s not better by Saturday, we go back to the vet, and I get to sign up for the VIP rewards program at our local animal hospital.
Final Thoughts (and Mild Begging to the Universe)
So, if you have any good vibes to spare, please send them Sweets’ way. If she could talk, she’d probably say something dramatic like, “Tell my story… and don’t let Dolly steal my toys when I’m gone.”
But I’m optimistic. She’s a tough girl. She once survived six puppies gnawing on her ears for ten weeks straight—surely, she can handle whatever this is.
In the meantime, I’ll just be here, hovering over her like a neurotic mess and bribing her with every food known to man. Because that’s what good dog parents do.
Stay tuned for updates—and hopefully, a triumphant return of Sweets’ usual zoomies.
