one sick puppy . . .

My spazzy little dog, Scout, is one sick puppy. As evidenced by the picture, Pilgrim has given up trying to get Scout to play with her and is just content to cuddle with her ailing buddy . . .

Scout woke up last Thursday and refused to use her back left leg. She was acting a bit odd (even for her) and I wondered if she was having seizures, so I dropped her off at the vet on my way to work that day. When I picked her up, the vet told me she suspected our kitten had scratched Scout's leg, causing an infection. They didn't do x-rays, run tests or anything expensive, much to my relief. I felt sure Scout would be back to her whirling dervish self in a few days.

She did perk up a bit that evening and seemed to be walking better, but by Saturday night she'd taken a turn for the worse. She'd stopped eating, drinking and moving. When we did take her outside and put her on her feet to go potty, Scout moved like she was a hundred years old. She hobbled pitifully, unable to even take the one step from the yard up onto the porch.

Sunday morning, she was so much worse that I took her to an emergency vet clinic. They ran a basic blood panel and did a comprehensive exam and found nothing amiss! They did rehydrate her by injecting fluids under her skin and Scout was so much better when we got home--even eating a few bites of chicken--that I was sure she was on the mend.

That evening, however, she stopped moving altogether, almost like she was paralyzed. If we stood her upright, she'd fall to her side. If we laid her down in her bed, she remained in the awkward position we'd placed her, seemingly unable to curl up into a comfortable ball. It was heartbreaking and Greg and I both wondered if she'd make it through the night. We prayed for her, told her we loved her before we turned off the lights. I cried myself to sleep that night.

She survived until morning and I took her to our regular vet. They ran a more extensive (and expensive) panel of tests and came up with very little information. She was runnning a fever and had an elevated white blood cell count. The x-rays showed her lungs were clear and there was no intestinal blockage.
"It's either a bacterial infection of the canine flu," the vet told us. They gave her IV fluids and antibiotics and sent her home that evening. Scout felt so much better after the rehydration that she ate lots of chicken and drank some water. We tucked her in that night with great hopes for a turnaround in her health.

Several days have elapsed since I began this blog, and Scout continues to rally and then fade. She's more mobile and tries pitifully to follow me around the house (although she doesn't have the strength to make it up the stairs). But she's still running a fever, drooling like crazy (a sign of nausea) and refusing to eat or drink anything. She's so listless and lethargic that she doesn't even respond when I sneeze.

I took her to the vet's yesterday for more rehydration and asked if Scout was going to make it.
"I hope so," was the only answer I got.

I've asked many friends and family members to pray for Scout. One new friend, from Uganda, emailed me back and said: "I will pray for your Scout--but I have never prayed for an animal before. Do they have souls?"

I don't know if dogs have souls, but I know they have great hearts. And I'm praying that the Creator of spazzy little dogs will allow Scout's brave heart to keep beating for many years to come . . .