Our First Anniversary :: The ironic, head-slapping disaster

I imagined a lot of things when I imagined our first anniversary. I was thinking in terms of flowers and love and red hearts popping out my head. But no. That's not how it went. Rushing a dog the emergency vet was a part of it though.

King Louie Jesus Pumpernickle

I got home from work around 3 on the day that one year ago had me giddy and smiling and looking the best I've ever looked...to a poor chihuahua who was bleeding from his asshole. If that doesn't make the red hearts dissolve in to thin air, you are a disgusting human. So I put Louie on the counter and tried to clean up the mess. It looked like a big blister (to the left of his asshole, to be fair) and it was purple and bloody and disgusting. Please don't quit reading, I swear I'll stop being gross in a second. I called a couple of vets, found one that was on a walk in basis, wrapped the poor little guy (who was visibly in pain) in a towel and went to the vet.

Let me tell you something about Louie. He is the most peppy, upbeat, happiest dog I've ever met. And even though his age (approximately 14 years) is getting up there, he's never so much as limped. Which has, in turn, made us bad parents in terms of keeping up with regular vet visits.

Let me tell you something about me. When I get stressed, I cry. When I get overwhelmed, I cry. Pretty much any emotion, good news, or bad news, I cry. And it's even worse when I have to do these things alone. Call me a child, it's fine. No, really...because sometimes I act like one.

So anyway, I take him in to the vet and they get us in quickly. They check his vitals. I can't remember what kind of food we feed him - first feelings of inadequacy as a fur-mom. The veterinarian comes in and examines him for a good ten minutes, talking to me the whole time. Leaves. Comes back. Leaves again. Meanwhile Tyler is 4 minutes from getting off work and rushing over to save me from my impending tears. Vet comes back. Louie has a bad abscessed anal gland with a possible tumor. But in addition, he also has a heart murmur and a gum disease. Cue tears. Cue more feelings of inadequacy as a fur-mom. Where the hell is Tyler?!

She then takes Louie to the back to clear the gland and get it cleaned up. I'm left with thoughts of tumors, murmurs and disease.

Tyler finally shows up and is able to talk me in to a state of calm. That is, until we got the bill and the estimates for the dental work and heart tests he will have to get in the future. Happy anniversary, babe. After being at the vet's office for 3 hours, we were free to go.

Tyler's plan for the anniversary was sort of already foiled. He told me he got us a nice hotel room in town and he had planned on going after work to fill it with flowers, candles and put sparkling cider on ice for me. Then we were going to go out to a nice dinner.

What actually happened: we took Louie home and gave him a plethora of meds. Set him up a nice spot to recover in. Left late and went to the hotel. Ordered in Mexican food. Watched the sing off. Worried about the dog. Left for home early the next morning. We were gone for barely 12 hours.

Not exactly the romantic night we had planned. By the next morning (especially after I saw Louie was doing SO MUCH BETTER) we were laughing about it. I mean, really, what are you going to do? This won't be an anniversary that's easily forgettable, that's for sure.

And Louie is doing much better! Almost back to his normal self. Thank goodness. And me? Still get weepy when I think of all the medical stuff we're about to put him through but I know deep down that it's necessary. And Tyler? Still the best husband anyone could ask for. I'm a lucky girl.