So we've made two trips to the animal doctor in two days. Yesterday was our Shiba Inu's appointment, which we were horribly late for, to check on his right paw. He'd developed a pretty solid limp (although it seemed to get worse whenever my mother was in sight, hmm hmm) and upon examination there was found a small pus-y sac between two of his pads, as if he'd stepped on something nasty or been stung by something unfriendly. Or stepped on something and then been stung by it. So he's otherwise healthy as a . . . however that euphemism goes, and none the worse for wear.
Although he has fleas. We're working on that.
While we were up there, as I mentioned before to a few of you or however many I did (often I can't remember having told things before, which is rather embarrassing despite being humorous), I saw a poster for the sale of two adult Siberian Huskies. Apparently their primary owner suffered a stroke and went blind (in a photograph he is sitting listlessly in a deck chair and is wearing an eyepatch), so they can no longer receive the care they need. Grey/white with blue eyes (the eyes are my favorite feature of the Huskies, what with that white ring in the center and all), male and female, all medical stuff up to date and taken care of, $400 for the pair, sold as a pair.
If I only had my own place. Right now, I can't give them the proper care, either. If I were any more Victorian I would curse Cruel Fate, or something like that.
Today was Buster's turn. The Old Man does not like car rides, so he actually talked a lot on the drive over there. Normally he makes no noise at all unless he really wants something, but today he was chattering away as he attempted to find a way out of the car.
Being 13, he also sheds profusely. I wore white, and it still didn't help all that much. =P
So we get there and he's so wigged out he's panting like a dog—which is a bad sign, for him. Find out he weighs a little less than eleven pounds (which is nothing, really), is very patient up to a point, and also has fleas. apparently Buster is the Flea Litterbox. Disgusting.
Looked at his left ear, which has been diagnosed with earmites for ages, although I must confess I have been skeptical of said diagnosis for quite some time. He had them a long time ago, and it's easy to stay in the same pattern, but his symptoms had changed and apparently I am the only one in the house who noticed details and actually speaks up about them in open dissent. *rolls eyes*
He has a tumor in his ear.
Color me unsurprised.
So what's happened is that the tumor at present doesn't seem to be aggressive—although there's really no way to tell with just a cursory glance; it's too far down in the ear for the vet to be able to tell anything without at least detaching the ear itself, and given Buster's age, that's not a great idea. However, for the moment that's not the issue, since ear tumors are not life-threatening. The bigger concern is that the tissue surrounding the tumor is infected, and it's causing him to bleed from the ear (which is what I noticed, self-back-pats all around).
So we've got some liquids in bottles to squirt down his ear and keep the infection under control. He's going to hate it, but it'll have to happen every day.
In other news, my sleep schedule is totally wonkered because of an accidental five hour nap I took yesterday evening. Woke up at quarter to eleven and went "oh great".
Speaking of five hours, you know that Five Hour Energy thing that makes such a huge freaking deal about the sugars in "energy drinks"? FHE is basically concentrated caffeine. So, you know, on the one hand you might give yourself diabetes if you keep suckin' down AMP and Monster and what, and on the other hand you could potentially begin a nasty addiction to a clinically recognised drug.
Myself, I prefer trail mix.
