|This is what "House Arrest" looks like.|
Who knew that living in Iowa could be so perilous? Perilous to my dog Jack and to my wallet, I mean. One thousand dollars spent between two veterinarians in two different towns and we are still not quite sure what has caused the incessant vomiting in my little Jack Russell-Yorkshire terrier mix. The vomiting that has kept me awake for nine nights. The vomiting that has stained the sisal rug in my living room. The vomiting that has filled my car with a permanent stench. The vomiting that has caused me to take a look at my own life and ask, "What have I done to contribute to my dog's illness?"
House arrest? It would be easier if she would have prescribed giant pills and daily enemas for this dog. We value our freedom to run wild outside our house. And our leash-free existence makes life so much easier. I open the door first thing in the morning, Team Terrier bolts into the Great Outdoors, I go make my coffee, and they let me know when they want to come back in. In fact, I’m not sure who benefits more: me because I don’t have to take the dogs on long walks, which frees me up to do other things, like pie baking, or the dogs because they don’t have me restraining them, which frees them up to chase squirrels. Or eat deer poop. Okay, fine. I’ll try it.
We are on Day Three of House Arrest. Amazingly it’s the leash – and not medication -- that is working. I’ve yanked Jack back from piles of deer pellets several times now. And so far his food is staying down. We have managed to sleep through the night, get the rug cleaned, and air out the car. I’ve even managed to stop blaming myself for Jack’s stomach troubles. But I’m still feeling nauseous from the vet bills.