Some people succeed because they are destined to, but most people succeed because they are determined to. ~Author unknown, 1960s
I’ve had dogs for most of my life. I’m no newbie.
But coping with puppy chewing, digging, and jumping is WAY different from dealing with constant diarrhea, vomiting, and digestive upsets.
I was exhausted. Running on a low battery.
Monkey was exhausted, too.
I figured we’d be better off apart. When you trust your vet yet can’t get the answers you need, you panic.
And make hasty decisions based on emotion, not reason.
I decided to return this pup to the breeder.
She’d instructed me on his Gotcha Day that, if things didn’t work out, she wanted him back.
And things sure weren’t working out.
Then I learned that, for a multitude of reasons, returning him wasn’t an option.
Sheltie Rescue was my Plan B. But I couldn’t make myself surrender him.
When Dallas’s breeder suggested another breeder friend, I figured she’d place Monkey in a better home than the one I was providing.
What puppy wants to be stuck with a stressed-out mama?
Still I hesitated.
The idea of being “rid” of Monkey was appealing — look how much time and money I’d save, how much wear-and-tear on mind and spirit! Then his eyes would meet mine and once again, I’d feel our heartstrings entangle, and I’d be ashamed of myself.
I prayed about it … over and over … and I knew I couldn’t give up. At least until he was well (if that could happen).
Off we went to a different vet — one who’d listen to us and not act like I was Nervous Nellie.
She ordered a fecal test to see if Monkey had intestinal bacteria or, gasp, worms.
Additionally, she put him on a special diet designed to heal his intestines, added some probiotics, and suggested I continue feeding him boiled chicken and rice.
With only kibble for treats.
And she prescribed 21 days of Metronidazole to heal his colon while killing the bad bacteria in his gut and clearing the way for the good strains to grow.
The jury’s still deliberating, but I’m cautiously optimistic that it’s working.
Over the past 10 days, his diarrhea has ceased. His vet cut the Metronidazole prescription in half and instructed me to gradually add back in his regular puppy food.
He acts far happier now that his bottom isn’t sore. He’s getting the hang of potty training, and we’ve taken several walks around the neighborhood to meet new people and see/smell new things. And he’s gained some weight.
Maybe we’ve finally turned a corner.