Since I wrote the last post about Murray, Otis had a severe reaction to the shots the vet gave him this morning. My hubby and I were taking a nap when Otis rang the "i've gotta go outside" bell and woke my husband up. His whole head was swollen so that he could hardly see or breathe. Being a pug and having a precarious respiratory arrangement to begin with, it was getting pretty serious. He had red hives on his stomach and little spots all over him where his hair was raised from the hives on his skin. He was wheezing and rubbing his face on the rug, vainly trying to stop the miserable itching and swelling. There was not a single wrinkle left on his face from the puffiness. Even his nose was big and puffy. By this time it was 3:00 Saturday afternoon and our regular vet office had been closed for hours. I called the emergency number and was told by the vet to drive to an emergency clinic 45-50 minutes away. Otis just didn't have that much time. It was horrible to know that one of the lives most precious to me on this earth was slipping through my fingers, and the only option given to me by the vet was to watch it drain away as I frantically drove. I flipped through the phone book and found a vet just a few minutes away that was also closed. I called their emergency number and (thanks be to God) they picked up and told me to come in. They were just about to start a surgery on another pet that was under anesthetic, but the vet tech would try to do what she could. I scrambled into the car, lucky to have remembered shoes, and did some serious not minding of the speed limit. Meanwhile, a few miles away, my dear husband was reaching his boiling point inside a Dollar General store as he clutched a box of Benedryl while a new cashier tried to get a price check on some candles for the lady in front of him. He made it clear that his purchase was going to be a priority and they opened another lane, stopping him just short of throwing a wad of ones at the cashier and fleeing the store. We met in the parking lot of the vet, where one pink pill got shoved down the closing throat of our beloved pug. Seconds later Otis was in the arms of the vet and being whisked away into a back room. Ten agonizing minutes later, she came back out with Otis still cradled in her arms, looking like a pin cushion from the four needles he had gotten that day and all of his bumpy hives. His once pink tongue was a sickly grey as he squinted at us through slits.
Otis spent the next few hours panting, squirming, shivering and spasmodically trying to sleep at home as waves of drugs and uncomfortableness washed over him and pink elephants danced by. He got a little confused and wandered into a closet, then forgot what he was doing in there. I gave him an oatmeal shampoo bath, which seemed to make him much less itchy.
|not a happy camper.|
I am so happy to report that he is feeling much better. While his jowls are still three times their regular size, the rest of his face is almost back to normal.
We are so glad to see you back on your feet, Otis! Happy 4th Birthday tomorrow!