Formerly Feral Family Friday

Gizzy seemed a bit more chipper yesterday. He moved quicker and didn't seem quite so s-l-o-w. Here's what he told me about the visit to the vet.

"It was wicked cold this morning. The snow crunched. Mom brought the silver machine near the door and let the heater run so it would be warm for me. Then I got in the jailbox and she took me outside, and put me in the car. I didn't even complain. There was a nice soft warm blanket in there. The ride wasn't long. We got out of the car, and into the waiting room. There was a big dog, and a dog about your size, Millie. It was a chihuahua named Fajita. Fajita was wearing a sweater and was still shivering! Yeah, it was that cold out.

"Mom let me out of the jailbox and I climbed into her lap and let her pet me, but then another dog came in, and even though it didn't try to come close, I went back into the box. In fact, I crawled way to the back.

"The box moved and we went into the room with the steel table. They tried to get me out of the box, even tipped it up, but I wasn't coming out. I may not have been feeling well, but I'm no dummy.

"Still I ended up on the table and a lady picked me up and put me on a flat metal scale and weighed me. 10.4 pounds. I was over 15 in July, so I got a lot of sympathy.

"That didn't last long. Next thing I knew the vet was in there, poking me all over. I growled, but she hung on tight. She took my temperature by sticking something in a place where NOTHING should ever get stuck, and I sure didn't like that at all. Then they took me away and shaved a spot on my neck! Next I got stabbed. Twice! First they took my blood! Vampires! Then a big shot of something. Then back in the box, back in the silver machine, and back home."

Gizzy did his usual thing all day long, which was: find a comfy, warm place to nap and stay there till Mom gets home. Of course, he was in the window watching for the funny silver machine she calls "Astro" to come back. He met her at the door, as always, and waited to be fed. We got some nifty crunchies (In fact, everybody is eating MY crunchies) and some beef stinky goodness.

He seemed a bit more active. When I tried to play he hissed (instead of growled) and fought back (instead of walking away). He was jumping better and seemed a lot more alert.

Mom will call the vet about 9AM on today and find out the results from the blood tests. That should tell us what's going on with Gizzy. If he's lost 5 pounds (wasn't I 5 pounds when I got here? Did the weight I gained come from Gizzy? I'll give it back if it'll make him feel better...) there's got to be a reason, and at his age, it can't be good.

As soon as we know, we'll tell you. Mom says even if she is day-hunting, she will find a way to let everybody know as soon as she can.