He Pooped!

The marvels of modern medicine do not come without price.  Man and dog are suffering from irregularity.  Mister can deal with it.  DogGus cannot.

I stopped the Gabapentin last night with the hopes of his gaining coordination.  Just as the windstorm of the century started up, he lifted his head and started howling.  Then, he got up and came into the family room to lie down.  That was the most movement on his own since Wednesday.

Because I had to monitor the Mister's Vicodin last night, lest he overdose because he lost track of the number and time, I was up most of the night.  Changing out ice packs, getting water and petting DogGus.  I wrangled DogGus out the door at 2 AM when he became agitated and Mister asked where we were going.  I told him Dog needs to poop, just sit there.  So I'm supporting this big assed dog to the pavement and its pouring rain and super windy.  I have my shorty pajamas and raincoat on and am saying, "Good boy, go poopies, c'mon, good boy" and supporting his butt at the same time.  Finally, just as he goes, all the outside lights come on and the Mister is standing outside in his panties.  The barn lights are on, too, and Tori comes screaming to the fence to let me know she's starving, damnit, it's 2 AM, after all.  DogGus decides to lay down and I'm yelling at Mister to go back in the house.  He wants to know what I'm doing, so I scream, "He pooped!"  The Mister visibly brightens and yells, "He pooped!  That's good, right?!  He pooped!"  I so hope the noise of the storm muffled him.  The whole yard was as bright as day.  I gave the barn residents a snack to quiet them.

DogGus is perkier today, but still not able to stand up.  He's back to the vet tomorrow to see if different meds are required or if he's just too weak from pneumonia.  Oy vey.