I know I’m not the only dork on the planet who makes up songs for my dogs. I know this for a real fact because I had a converstaion with someone once where I exchanged lyrics for The West Wing theme song that featured one of my dogs with lyrics for the same show that featured their dog. While my lyrics were supererior because they not only juxtaposed the state of our current administration with the state of American television, but also with the comical nature of fluffy dogs who like to enthusiastically lick their own butts (and mostly because West Wing vaguely rhymes with Best Weege), that is neither here nor there.
I am not alone. But I fear that one of my pup tunes has become grotesquely prophetic.
He’s Theo, the genetically inferior pup,
He’s Theo, looking at him makes you wanna throw up,
He’s an ugly bag of mostly germs,
He’s got skin lesions and a case of the worms,
He’s Theo, the genetically inferior pup!
(Back off. He doesn’t care about the words, he just likes it when you sing to him in a high-pitched voice and say his name a lot.)
Theo is a rescue dog who doesn’t have the strongest constitution. He gets more fleas than Ouija (my other dog, son of some kind of purebred champion), he has allergies that Ouija doesn’t have, and he gets more stomach bugs than Ouija. (The evening of raging hemorrhagic gastroenteritis where I stayed up all night with Theo while he involuntarily shot sudden and massive amounts of coppery smelling raspberry jam out of his hind end was, indeed, a night to remember).
His genetic inferiorness doesn’t make him a bad dog. Quite the opposite. He is never grouchy or snappish because of his physical discomfort. In fact, when one of these bizarro inflictions arises, it is almost like he expects to be miserable and is grateful for every small joy or comfort he receives. He is one of those rare creatures capable of enduring the most horrific of suffering, yet remains sweet and affectionate during the entire ordeal.
Last week, pollen erupted in full force here in Florida and Theo developed his yearly nasty skin infection. He was itchy and blotchy and sad. I took him to the vet on Thursday and they gave him some medication to clear it up, but I felt so badly for such a good pup, that on Friday and Saturday I fed him some special food. Ordinarily my dogs get dry Iams, but last weekend, I fed them gravy meals out of a pouch. Holy hell, they both loved that.
On Sunday when Theo vomited a number of times, I figured it was the medication. The vet said this might happen and to call him to make an exchange. When I called on Monday morning and described the weekend, the vet concluded it was likely not the medication, but the change in food, and suggested I keep him on the dry Iams and to watch him.
The vet never once mentioned a pet food recall.
I didn’t hear about the recall until the end of the day on Tuesday. Upon contacting my vet the next morning, he said I should bring Theo in for some blood tests. Beyond being furious with the vet for never alerting me to the recall, most of my fears about the whole thing were assuaged because Theo really seemed to be himself again. Not lethargic, but bright eyed, active and just his fluffy normal self.
Regardless of the demeanor of both dogs, I took them in and they had blood tests done to check their kidney levels on Wednesday. The results were supposed to be in today but they weren’t. Mostly, I was okay with waiting until tomorrow because really, they seemed fine.
Until about an hour ago.
When Theo peed all over the living room floor.
This is highly unusual behavior for him. He’s kind of moping around now and I am sufficiently alarmed. I anticipate an evening much like the night of raging hemorrhagic gastorenteritis, where I stay awake and watch him breathe. Only this time I get to consider how it I might have poisoned him.
Thank god I don’t have children. I’d have to wrap them in cotton, keep them hidden in a closet, and feed them root vegetables I grow myself in the backyard in an obsessive and delusional attempt to keep them safe.