Good news. Bad news.

Howdy blogaroos. Squirmy here. Missing my primary playmate. I still have my primary hair styling client – but he’s not into wrestling and playing Humpty Dumpty.

Latest update: the Warden called the hospital yesterday at 4:30 AM because she suddenly woke up and was worried about him. The vet she spoke with was concerned because they were trying to collect his pee, and he wouldn’t pee. The Warden assured her he could pee but if someone was closely following him, he wouldn’t go. Sure enough – a few hours later they reported he was peeing just fine.

We’ll skip the details but they did bloodwork later in the day and a different vet called at 5 PM with good news, bad news. His kidney values on three measures had come down a bit. BUT, because he is refusing to eat for them, he was having problems with a different value. The Vet suggested the addition of a drug called Mycophenolate – which the Warden would have to pick up at a drug store. They also thought when she picked it up, she could come in and try to feed him. The Warden said “great idea.” She raced to the store – bought lean ground beef and pork, ground turkey, plain hamburger and chicken. She raced back home, cooked everything up and dashed to the pharmacy where the prescription had been called in. There she encountered a pharmacist who clearly was waiting for her shift to be over. She sat behind her computer, barely looking up and mumbled “I’ll be with you in a minute.” She finally sauntered over and asked what the name was. The Warden said the prescription should have been faxed, and it was for her dog. The Pharmacist asked for the dog’s name – but surprise – it wasn’t in the computer. Because he has never had meds before. She asked for his date of birth, which the Warden had to check because her brain was fried. The Pharmacist said they had no record of him. The Warden repeated that the prescription should have been faxed in. The Pharmacist trudged over to the fax machine, looked at the paper, which by all accounts had been sitting there for close to an hour, and said “it will be an hour.” The Warden was downtrodden, but said “I’ll just sit bright here.” The Pharmacist went back to her computer. After about 15 minutes of the Warden’s nail biting, the Pharmacist asked if the dog had been on this drug before. The Warden explained what was wrong with him and why they desperately needed it. A few minutes later, the Pharmacist sauntered over to a shelf. She looked around and shouted “we don’t have it.” The Warden almost cried. She asked if the Pharmacist could check the computer and see if another Pharmacy in the chain might have it. The woman said “no – she didn’t have that info”, but she could call a few pharmacies. The Warden said that would be great. Back the Pharmacist went to her computer. She called one. No luck. Another customer arrived and she took care of them. She called another store and no luck. Took care of another customer. Keep in mind, the Warden didn’t have the prescription, so she couldn’t call herself. The Pharmacist called a third. Nope. She told the Warden she could go check a few herself. The Warden asked for the paper and dashed to the car. Meanwhile, all her fancy food was getting cold in the car.

She started calling Pharmacies and when a neighbor texted her to see how the Coyote was doing, she enlisted her help to make calls. Many pharmacies were closed because it was the Sunday night of a holiday weekend. That was just the beginning of the drug issue. To describe the subsequent search, the partial find (correct drug but different strength), the chats with a different Vet who wrote and faxed a different prescription for the same drug but a different strength, pills that could not be cut in half, another chat with a Vet and computer problems- would be a novel and well, what began as a call to pick up meds and bring food evolved into a four hour long chase.

The Warden finally arrived at the hospital to feed the Coyote after 9 PM. She came into the hospital with her bag of goodies. He wagged happily when they brought him into the room. They left him with the Warden and she sat on the floor giving him cuddles. He was squeaking and clearly wanting to leave the room. He does NOT like vet clinics. The Warden slowly pulled out her buffet of goodies. He looked at them, sniffed and said “no thanks.” They sat there for 20 minutes. And it was clear he was too stressed to eat. She rang the buzzer and asked if she could take him to the car and try there. They said “sure’. She made room in the back of the vehicle- pushing the crate out of the way and he jumped in. She sat with him in the back. She chatted with him and petted him – but he couldn’t relax. At one point he ate a few bites of chicken, but a car pulled up with another pet to go into the clinic and he stopped. She figured if she moved the car away from the clinic entrance, maybe he would settle. That was after a short walk where he peed lots.

She got him out of the vehicle, pulled the crate out, put him back in the vehicle, closed the hatch, took the crate inside and told the staff what she was doing. She drove him to a parking lot across the street. Mistake. With his supersonic hearing, he could still hear the assortment of dogs being brought in for porcupine encounter problems. She was sitting with him in the back with the hatch open with the buffet and a bowl of water from the clinic which she had managed to spill all over her and the driver’s seat while making the short drive across the street. She decided to close the hatch to drown out some of the noise HE was clearly hearing. After 10 minutes of him sitting there, her petting him, but him not eating, she decided to move the car even further from the clinic. Keep in mind this was Sunday night of a long weekend in an industrial park kind of location. Only problem, she couldn’t figure out how to open the hatch from inside. She had to unpretzel herself, crawl around the Coyote and escape a rear door. She drove deeper into the dark industrial park and found a spot far from the clinic. She encouraged the Coyote to relax, petting him and talking to him. He actually settled finally and eagerly took about 5-6 pieces of chicken when the clinic called and said he needed to return. She explained that he was in the process of eating – so they said to come back as soon as he was done. He must have been listening, because he stopped eating. And try as she might to gently offer food, he refused.

She drove him back. She asked if he could come out today for 2 hours to go home and see if he would eat there. The receptionist said “no” – and the place was so busy, the Warden didn’t push the issue. She’ll talk to the Vet today. She left the chicken behind but she knows he won’t touch it. She headed home close to midnight.

So while he is showing improvement with treatment- he has to eat . We’re not sure what the next step will be.

Keep those healthy vibes coming…

Have a good one. Peace and paws up. Stay safe. JBJ.