Saturday was a very worrisome day with the new little doggie. He seemed to be perking up on Friday. We had gone for a lovely dinner at Lynn and Lou’s home, some new, wonderful friends. They’d given him some little bits of fresh turkey, which he devoured. Most of the dinner we kept him wrapped up in a blanket, and he watched us eat. But after I got him home, he just couldn’t keep his food down. He was becoming more and more listless. I ended up taking him to the emergency vet hospital on Saturday afternoon. When I came in they said, “Is this the no-name stray?” I just couldn’t have him there without a name. He had look so forlorn all bundled up in his blanket that we had called him Ollie, so that is what I said his name was. When he perks up, that may change. Anyway, x-rays revealed a large mass in his abdomen. The vet called me and said he most likely had stomach cancer and she would support whatever decision I made. My instincts didn’t feel this was correct, but I’m no expert. The little guy had been out on his own for who knows how long and who knows what he had eaten. Lou, who was a nurse for 20 years, really asked the vet some pressing questions. He was great. He got her to admit that it may be a foreign body in his stomach. So, they kept Ollie overnight to get him hydrated for the possibility of surgery. Why guess what was wrong with Ollie when you can know definitively? They did surgery on him Sunday morning and discovered he had eaten a corn cob! From stomach cancer to corn cob. Hallelujah. So he is spending the night at the vet again, recovering from this ordeal. I’m hoping I can bring him home tomorrow and cuddle up with him. He is such a sweatpea.
These two photos were taken Saturday.