How a Veterinarian Finally Came Through and Saved the Puppy's Life

After a restless night, I finally found a clinic that would see him

We were on our way to the urgent care clinic because my dog, Kuzo, couldn't poop. He kept squatting and trying, but nothing happened. He looked up at me in misery.

I was feeling all jittery with nerves and irritation. Our regular vet couldn't make time to see him, but they'd given me the address of the local urgent care clinic. Images of dogs dressed as doctors flooded my mind as I typed the address into my phone.

Kuzo looked at me dejected and miserable.

It was a ten minute drive. When we arrived, noble Kuzo jumped out of the car and instantly squatted in the grass. He wasn't about to go in my car, sweet boy. But again, he produced nothing. If he had produced something, all our problems would be over. Instead, I sighed and led him inside.

“Do you have an appointment?”

There were no dogs dressed as doctors or nurses, just human beings, unfortunately.

“No, I was told this was an urgent care clinic. My dog can't seem to poop.”

The receptionist looked at her schedule, “We have something at 11 AM.”

I shared a disappointed look with Kuzo.

“I guess I'll take it,” I said. We went back outside. I'd just arrived at my car when my phone rang. It was the original veterinarian. “Hello?”

“Hi! We just had an opening, we can see Kuzo in 15 minutes if you'd like.”

“Okay!” I said, then I ran back inside to cancel Kuzo's appointment and jumped in the car.

Shortly after that, we brought Kuzo into the vet. He was still moving slowly like he couldn't figure out what was wrong with his back end.

Finally, we got a doctor to look at him. “It could be that he just has diarrhea.”

“What?” I said. Between being sleep deprived and concerned, I hadn't even considered that it might be something as simple as a stomach bug.

“Yeah, his instincts are telling him to try to do his business, but there's nothing to come out.”

Well, that made a certain amount of sense.

“We'll give him an X-ray to make sure,” she said.

So they took him back and had me hold him down so he wouldn't nip, though Kuzo isn't a nipper. Still, you can only ask so much of a dog. There had been one time when he was young that I brought him into the vet, and he began to freak out. His jaws closed around my arm, but just as he was about to apply pressure, he caught himself. It was as if he said, “No, don't bite this one,” and his jaws relaxed.

Good boy.

The X-ray was clean. “Right, no obstruction,” the doctor said. Then she gave me some medication. I took Kuzo home and gave him his treatment. He seemed to get better right away. I wonder how much of his concern was just a reflection of mine.

I called my wife and let her know.

Later that day, I received a call from the urgent care clinic. “We're just calling to check in on Kuzo.”

“Yeah, he's okay.”

“Did you get him checked out? Did a veterinarian have a look at him? You can't go leaving a sick dog untreated you know!”

I started to feel a little irritated at their tone. Part of me was tempted to remind them that I'd taken him to not one but two different clinics, and the clinics had refused to see him.

But instead I replied, “Yes, my regular veterinarian had an opening.”

They didn't seem to be content with this, “What was their diagnosis?”

I told them, I even went as far as to read the medication off the bottle. Only then were they satisfied.

That evening, the girls came home and were delighted to find Kuzo looking better. “Oh, poor baby, do you have a stomach ache?”

Kuzo knows exactly what to do when the girls are worried. He lays down on his back and looks as if he's exhausted.

“Oh no! Daddy! What's wrong with him?”

“Nothing is wrong with him, he's got a little stomach problem. It's probably because he eats everything that doesn't run away. What do you expect to happen when you're constantly gobbling down chunks of half rotted meat that you find on the sidewalk?”

“Oh, Kuzo doesn't do that, he's a good boy, he's a good boy!”

Then they wrapped him up in his blanket, and covered him with hugs, and spoon fed him his water from his bowl.

Kuzo laid back enjoying every second of it. Occasionally he gave me a victorious look that was a borderline smirk.

“You just take it easy young prince,” I muttered. “I'm glad to see your feeling better, but don't think I've forgotten the look in your eyes when you were out squatting in the snow.”

He seemed a bit mollified at this and I laughed. I prefer it when he looks at me with a bit of attitude instead of fear.

I went to bed early that night. I had two nights to make up for, but I rested easy knowing that the doggy would be just fine.

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