However, since Olive was sick, it meant most likely Muffin and Harry were also sick, whether or not they were showing it fully. All three had been on meds for kennel cough (it seems like every dog from the shelter ends up with it despite the mandatory vaccine they're given when they arrive). So, to make sure they didn't spread it to other dogs (a kennel of puppies is like a kindergarten class--once one kid wipes his nose, they all have the plague), and to avoid these two going home with adopters and relapsing as well, it was time to get them someplace with no other pets to be monitored and given a little R&R from the kennel atmosphere. And that "someplace" would be my apartment.
Knowing the difficulties of taking care of two puppies after a few days with Loki and Pixie, I made the decision to take only one. Do you really need you ask which one?
First Harry was a little confused on what this crazy silver device was in front of my face. I explained it was a camera and that he was quite cute.
Once he understood, he graciously received the compliment and was quite excited to go on this adventure.
I didn't have any harnesses his size, so we went right from boarding to Petco to get a new harness and look at pet beds. Harry is a sprawler when he sleeps, and since I have varying-sized dogs in my apartment, I couldn't decide on what pet bed to get (and I certainly wasn't about to spend $80.00), so I didn't buy one.
He was fine with the harness, but hated the collar he had been given before I picked him up. He let me buckle him in without a problem, and being the independent dog he is, he gladly accepted the whole passenger seat to himself for the car ride home.
As soon as we walked in, he immediately had to introduce himself to the giant stuffed dog next to the couch. He barked and backed up, tail held high, ready to show this big dog just what he was made of. He even lunged in for a bite on the nose. I told Harry that wasn't polite and this dog was not a threat. He walked away, but every now and again returned to get a taste of his nose.
It was only early afternoon when we got back, so we went out for a walk and indeed it did appear that Harry was sick, but not Emergency Vet Call sick. Kinda like how people get coughing when they laugh after they've had a cold, he'd only cough when he got bouncing around or just finished running. Course, that was how Olive was to begin with.
By the end of the evening, Harry was not just a little sick. He had slept for hours, and his cough started to come more frequently--not just when he played, but when he rose from sleeping. And it was clear that he just couldn't get comfortable, no matter where he slept. I thought he might be running a fever since his preferred place to sleep was on the hard kitchen floor (next to the towel of course, not on it; that would be silly).
A quick call to Christy, and she was on her way to confirm that he should see the vet in the morning. Olive had pneumonia. We didn't want Harry's minor cold to take a turn for the worse, so getting him checked at the vet's was the best bet.
The rest of the night I watched his breathing, making sure he was still doing it. I tried to find my Pet First Aid and CPR paperwork just so I could be prepared (although if a dog is drowning from pneumonia, I don't think it'll do much good), but it's buried somewhere in my office.
Christy had given me a crate so I could try to perhaps lead a slightly more normal life on this fostering gig. Harry was self-sufficient enough that I thought he might be able to be left home alone for an hour or two if needed. He certainly didn't seem to care whether or not I was in the room. He didn't follow me around, and if I followed him, he would politely walk away or give me "the look."
After our last walk for the evening (he appears to be housetrained!), he checked out the crate, walking in, rolling around on the towel I put inside and then walking back out. I asked him if where he would like to sleep and gave him the options of the crate or the bed. He chose the bed.
He slept as far from me as possible at the end of the bed in the corner. I had laid down my pet-blanket over the bedspread, and then added a towel since, just like my doxies, he enjoyed digging up the blankets and arranging them to suit his slumber needs. So it's really no surprise that he dug into the towel, the blanket, and then sprawled himself out flat on the bedspread.
I slept lightly, trying to keep myself in some sort of state of awareness since his coughing had gotten a lot worse in the past few hours. He'd rise up and I tried to help him, patting his chest to help him cough up anything that might be in there. He had a rough night. He couldn't get comfortable, and my own moving on the bed was causing him even more annoyance.
He groans and grunts a lot. Doesn't bark really, but he feels the need to mumble about this or that, narrating whatever he's doing. It does come in handy though. One surprised grunt was all I needed to open my eyes and find that he had lodged himself between the bed and wall, his little legs underneath him so he was just stuck perfectly, unable to move. I think I need to get those bumpers they put in the gutters at bowling alleys for when kids play. In the meantime, I try to dissuade him from sleeping too close to the edge of the bed.
Our appointment is at 2:10 this afternoon with the vet. He doesn't seem as bad as last night, but he's still not 100%. The goal is to get him some meds (I had the list Olive was given) without getting an x-ray. We'll see how that goes.
In the meantime, a little nap in the morning is a good idea for the both of us.
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