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A Sick Pet Weighs on the Spirit
By Ursula B.G. Kilner, Salisbury
A sick pet weighs on my spirits with worry and helplessness. Mikey is about 13 years old, a copper-color cocker spaniel. I rushed him to the veterinary hospital when he collapsed. He was diagnosed with what humans would call vertigo. Once again I was wishing I were a veterinarian, or at least a veterinarian’s assistant.
After two weeks in the animal hospital, during which time he was fed with a syringe, Mikey was able to come home—tottery but able to stagger on a few walks a day. Gradually Mikey has improved and is more alert and doesn't sleep 19 hours a day. He has been on a regular schedule, but cannot eat a "regular" meal without having it come up.
After two weeks at home he is back in the hospital for tests to find out why he can't eat and keep down a "regular" meal. All these problems, for a sweet and loving dog. He looks at me with his brown, pleading eyes. I know if he could talk he'd say, "What's wrong with me?" and "Can't you fix me?" I'd have to say, "I don't know how to fix you, but I am trying to help you get well and the doctor knows a lot more than I do!"
Persons who are not in love with animals—dogs in particular, in my case—say, "Just have him put down." A person who feels that way about a beloved pet would, if not immediately censored, probably say about an ill and aged grandparent: "Put him (or her) to sleep."
To fight against illness or an enemy is more difficult and a great deal more taxing than giving in. Anxiety wears on humans more than action, as we know from the situation we have been in internationally for a year and a half. But as long as Mikey has the will to live, tries to walk straight, wags his tail and his dog friends give him a canine kiss now and then, I will try my best (and I know his doctor will too) to give him at least another year of happy life.
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