Yesterday, which began as a traditional Tuesday, abruptly became very upsetting. While Lilly and I were on our morning poo and stroll, she stopped and started screaming the most horrific sound I've ever heard. She was limping, so I looked at her paw and foot, and then carried her upstairs to my apartment. I felt like a lifeguard taking a near-drowner out of the ocean, but less glamorous.
I lost my shi* for about 3 seconds then went into mommy mode. I immediately called the vet to see if I could get her in. Thankfully, they had an opening. I continued to freak out until the appointment. Lilly wasn't eating, and since she is preciously plump, I knew something seriously off. We hobbled into the vet and I didn't even notice the cute guy with a cute dog sitting next to me. I felt like I was going to blow chunks I was so nervous. What if she broke something? What if she's really sick? My mind went to every possible worst scenario.
After giving myself a small ulcer and paying a small fortune for x-rays, etc., the doctor informed me Lilly P. had nothing broken and that she should just take some of the pain killers she prescribed because she most likely had soft tissue damage. (I wish they had doggie massage parlors).The rest of the day, Lilly was screeching and moping. I just let her rest and petted her, praying she would feel better tomorrow.
What do you know, Lilly P. got her groove back. She woke up today like she was a whole new bitch. She started going insane when someone walked past my door (her biggest life annoyance) and ate faster than a fat kid returning from a summer at weight loss camp. I think she's even liking the medicine now because she gets a little peanut butter with it.