February 7, 2012

Puppy, Puke and a Cheerleader

As many of you know--my lovely little Toyota, that I bought myself for my 21st birthday, is dead.

So let me tell you what happened...

It all started Saturday morning with Little Lucy throwing up. Now we had been fighting a case of diarrhea with her since the third day we had her. She'd eat, have some diarrhea, we'd make her fast, she'd get just rice to eat, then finally mix in food...then have more diarrhea. Our fat little puppy was no longer fat at all.

Then she threw up inside her cage. And she wouldn't eat.

Bad, very bad. In the world of puppies this could mean a disease called Parvo.

As I found out when I finally got a hold of a vet that was opened on Saturdays. Parvo could be deadly if not treated, they told me, right before they said they could not possibly get us in.

So, in my head I am thinking I have killed my new puppy because I was too cheap and laid-back to get her to the vet at the first signs of diarrhea. I frantically search the web for every vet and vet hospital within a 50 mile radius, my fingers flying on my phone trying to find someone, anyone that could see us on a Saturday.

Thank god for the PetSmart here which has a vet hospital in it. Pretty handy and open 7 days a week!

So you are wondering what this has to do with my car--I'm getting there.

I get off the phone with PetSmart hospital and they say bring her in RIGHT AWAY. No appointment needed. Which leads me to a mad dash into the bedroom to get dressed and tell my sleeping husband we needed to go to the doctor. I had already had 2 hours to work myself into a major tizzy and his slow movements out of bed and into the bathroom were NOT fast enough for me.

So, I run into dining room, put on a shoe, then see Lucy throw up again. At this point Honey comes out of the bathroom to see me trying to hold back Lucy, clean the puke with a giant wad of paper towels while muttering, "Where the hell is my other shoe?"

In between laps of the house where I am searching for my shoe, while wearing one and grabbing my purse, keys, etc, Honey stops me. As I struggle to put my coat on upside down, he asks what the problem is and why I am in such a rush. I yell to him about "Parvo" and "dead puppies" and "hurry" as I run back into the bedroom throw off the one shoe and put on a full new pair still muttering, "Where the hell is my other shoe?"

Finally we are in the car with the dog, and both shoes, headed to PetSmart. Halfway there a little Jetta decided to make a U-turn...without looking...and slammed into us. Honey swerved, we spun, Lucy shook, we avoided a tree, and stopped facing the destroyed Jetta.

And out steps a very upset little high school cheerleader all dolled for a big competition that day. We realize everyone is fine but I start crying anyway because now we can't get to the vet and my puppy IS GOING TO DIE. So Honey gets a car that pulled up to take me to the vet and he dealt with the car. This could be one of the greatest/sweetest/most wonderful things he has ever done. And he even called the insurance companies too! This is why I married him.

Anyway, I am bawling in a stranger's car answering the incessant questions of the 5 year old next to me between sobs, but make it to PetSmart. And...of course...Lucy doesn't have Parvo. I mean, she could have had it, but she doesn't. She's fine and on upset tummy meds. And wanting to eat everything in sight.

My car, on the other hand, is not fine. You can't open the passenger door and there are shards of the Jetta inside the quarter panel. But you should have see the Jetta, her whole front was gone. Makes me love Toyota!

This week we should find out what the next step is but I needed a new car anyway so it may just happen sooner than expected.

And yes I finally found my shoe--on the dining room table.

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