The past few days have actually been very distressing. Stalin, our five year-old Shih Tzu-Poodle, has been down-and-out lately - the exact opposite of his usual active and stalwart self. He has not been eating enough since Tuesday, and yesterday until this morning, he did not eat anything at all. Even more alarming was the blood I saw in his poop. (My apologies if this grosses you out.) I called his vet right away and informed her of the situation; she asked me to bring Stalin over for a check-up or a possible confinement. I dashed to her clinic as soon as I could, even taking Yue along with me. (Oh, the pains of not having a nanny or househelp!)
One look at the furball and the vet knew that Stalin is not in a very good shape. All these years she has been used to Stalin's beaming eyes and playful bark, and today all he gave her was a sullen look and nothing more. She took his weight, checked his vitals, and took a sample of his blood for lab testing.
Based on his drastic weight loss, jaundiced skin, and watery blood, his vet presumed this to be leptospirosis - a disease that damages the liver and the kidneys. And even before Stalin's blood sample could be sent to the lab, she already gave me a picture of what might happen next. I don't take this against her, mind you. I come from a family of nurses so I pretty much know the drill. However, it hurts pretty bad when you're hearing about someone you love.
I was holding back tears as Yue and I left the clinic. We had to leave Stalin there so he could get proper attention - IV, antibiotics, the works. Anything to make him comfortable, if not better. At this point, all I could do is expect the least and hope for the best. I'd be forever grateful if the Heavens do a miracle and heal Stalin completely. If that won't be the case (knock on wood), I pray for strength to move on and courage to accept. For someone you've loved for five years, it won't be easy.
|Stalin at seven months old. Also his first Christmas.|