Just another day at the office

Yesterday, I went to work ready to train my dogs and have a normal work day.  Upon arriving, I was informed that I would be going to Greenwich, CT, where I would be "soliciting" the rich and famous to sponsor or donate for a huge, fancy benefit we are having in September (if you are rich or know anybody rich and/or famous and/or generous, click here: DENIM, HEELS, BOOTS, TAILS).  I ended up sitting in a 50 million dollar home on the water getting tipsy off $50 bottles of white wine while the maid served fancy sandwiches by the saltwater swimming pool.  The tour of the house included a Matisse, 6 Picassos, and a bathroom the size of my entire apartment. 

Warning: may not be suited for all audiences, particularly those with weak stomachs.

Today, at 8am, one of the volunteers was banging on the door of the cottage I live in.  The breeder dog she cares for was in the car, in labor, and she was unable to reach anybody else.  We brought mama into the office, knowing that labor usually lasts for hours and nothing would be happening anytime soon.  10 minutes later, after a lot of blood and a horrific scream, we had a boy.  40 minutes later, we were covered in placentas and afterbirth and we had a total of 4 puppies (2 girls, 2 boys).  3 hours later, many contractions, and a very miserable mama, we were still waiting for 5 more puppies.  We called the vet, who said we needed to get mama into the office so she could induce heavier contractions.  We loaded the 4 puppies, now almost 4 hours old, into a laundry basket and stuck them in the front seat of the car.  I loaded a contracting, laboring mama dog into the back of a station wagon.  I climbed in the back with her in case she delivered en route.  I rode, 45 minutes to the vet, hunched over, covered in birthing fluids with my hand on a dog's vagina in the trunk of a station wagon.  15 minutes later, the vet was drenched in sweat, forceps in hand, pulling a stuck stillborn puppy out of the birth canal.  The foot broke off in the process.  2 more living, squealing puppies followed within 30 minutes.  According to the x-ray we took weeks ago, there should be 1 more puppy.  We gave mama a shot of oxytocin to keep her pushing, since she was now exhausted and reluctant to continue.  We got another puppy.  We x-rayed again to make sure we got them all.  There was 1 more.  It wouldn't come out.  We discussed a c-section.  We gave more oxytocin.  10 hours after the banging on my door, puppy #10 came out.  We put a catheter in mom to get her fluids.  Suddenly, things were peaceful.  9 puppies (4 boys, 5 girls) were suckling happily.  I realized I was starving, that I hadn't eaten all day amid the chaos, that my back and butt and knees were killing me from hunching over on the floor for the past 10 hours, that I wreaked of placentas and afterbirth and blood and puppy and that I was covered in all of these nasty things.

I absolutely love my job.

Sick As a Dog

Just when I thought Paulywog was getting better, he took a turn for the worse last night.  Sorry if this is TMI, but there is nothing like emergency bloody diarrhea hours after your vet closes for 2 days to really make you curse the powers that be.  Pauly and I are, unfortunately, pros at the bloody diarrhea emergencies.  His fecal always come back negative and a week of Metranidizole fixes him up. Why am I so cheap that I didn't just take him yesterday when the vet was still opened? I always struggle with whether the vet visit is really necessary and then end up thinking the post-visit relief was worth every penny. Like all life lessons, that one never seems to stick long enough to get me through the next health crisis.

Kicking myself in the ass for thinking he was getting better and didn't need to go to the vet, I called Dr. Fierman's office at 8:45pm and left a message saying something along the lines of "I think your office is closed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, but Pauly is sick and if you happen to come in and could give us some antibiotics that would be awesome".  At 11pm Dr. Fierman called back and left a voicemail for me saying "Pauly shouldn't wait until Thursday.  Please take him to the emergency hospital on 55th street tomorrow.  Call me back anytime tonight, you won't be disturbing me".  Dr. Fierman is the best vet in the entire world (Cathedral Dog and Cat Hospital).

So how do you get a 70lb lab from 110th street to 55th street when he isn't allowed on public transportation?  I've heard there are emergency pet ambulances, but that seems extreme.  Not to mention, how much would an emergency vet cost?

He wasn't any better this morning so I spent an hour pouring over online reviews of emergency hospitals and local vets.  It's a Tuesday, so luckily many vets in my neighborhood are open.  The emergency vet would have cost $150 for the visit + any tests and meds.  Let's not forget that I do not currently have any income.  Not to mention the challenge with getting him there.  Reading the reviews from people whose dogs had true medical emergencies, I also didn't feel like all the technology and intensive care was really necessary for our current case.  Luckily, a local vet agreed to see him.  $212 later, fecal tests were negative and he got a week of Metranidizole ($7).  The skies opened up and we got soaked in a downpour on the walk home.  Pauly and I both need a hug and a smile today.