I stayed up most of Friday night with a poor, sick pooch. Sebastian couldn’t keep anything down, was shaking uncontrollably and thus freaking me out.
I hate going to Yahoo! Questions for things like this, because nine times out of ten some jerkface will say “get offline and go to the vet!”
So I called the local emergency animal clinic and they told me to do what I’m sure every parent of a human child has been told when their kid is sick and it’s too late to go to the doctor:
“Keep him wrapped and warm and give him Pedialyte.” So I followed the nurse’s instructions. (Tip from a fellow childless adult: keep Pedialyte around anyway).
In between sneezes, shakes and hacks, Sebastian lapped up the grape drink and rested next to my head (an odd place, since he usually stays at my feet).
A few hours later he pawed at me to get up and take him out. Since then he’s been back to being a chipper dog and secret butthead.
Parent freakouts. Even us dog-parents have em.