Hi there. Polly here.
“Don’t get sick on a weekend. Save it for a Monday.”
Has anyone ever said that to you? I hope not. Let’s face it, you know they’re not saying, “Hang in there, stay well until Monday because we have big plans for Sunday.” And if you’ve ever said that to anyone, well, for shame. Unless you really do have big plans with them on Sunday.
Believe me, I’ve heard those words a lot over the past few years. Every Saturday afternoon at about one o’clock. Right as our regular, reasonably-priced vet’s office closes for the rest of the weekend. I mean, if I just shut my eyes and fell “asleep,” that would probably be okay. But if I stop eating, start gasping for air, or something with lots of drama, my mom would not be happy.
She’d pull out her check register and calculator and start muttering to herself. Probably profanities.
And long, holiday weekends? Oh boy, they’re the worst. All I need to do is let out one little cough or turn up my nose at some slop in my food bowl and everyone is Code Orange and panic sets in.
This first started when I just a young pup. It was a Sunday morning and life was pretty good. Except for the part where my adorable little face was all swollen. Remember that episode of “The Twilight Zone?” The one where the spoiled rotten kids were waiting for their dad to kick the bucket, so he made them wear ugly masks until midnight? Well, if someone had thought to add a spoiled chihuahua to the cast, I would have fit right in. Without the mask.
It was not a pretty sight.
My mom convinced herself that this was some sort of rare disease and was only going to get worse, so she decided to take me to the vet.
Except that it was a Sunday. And our reasonably-priced vet was closed.
So, we went to the Emergency Animal Clinic. (And that’s when I overheard my dad call his attorney and use the words “incompatibilities” and “can’t live like this.”)
We spent four hours in the waiting room, surrounded by other dogs. There was sniffing. Barking. Drooling. Saliva and dog germs everywhere. Yuck. And don’t get me started on the cats that were there. Believe me, I probably walked out of that place in worse shape than I came in.
Finally, the doctor saw us.
“So, what’s the problem?”
My mom was almost speechless, but not quite. “Can’t you tell? It’s her face. It’s all swollen. She couldn’t even open her little eyes earlier.”
“Hmmm. She looks fine right now. Maybe a little puffy.”
My mom pouted. “Well, it was much worse a few hours ago. When we first got here. Four hours ago.”
“She looks fine now. Let me listen to her heart rate. Yep, healthy as miniature pony.”
“But Doctor, what do we do? Why did this happen? And what if it comes back?”
“My guess is she probably had an allergic reaction to something. Maybe she was bitten by a spider. Or an ant. Go to CVS and get some children’s Benadryl liquid and keep it on hand. Oh, and that will be $400. You can pay at the front desk.”
At that moment my dad’s attorney called back and he stepped outside to take the call.
This has been our history. I collapsed once and it was around the 4th of July. Our regular vet was closed, so we ran around to find someone who might be open. We finally saw someone. He said I had a touch of the flu and gave me some antibiotics.
Personally, I think it was heat stroke. It was 105 degrees outside and I had just chased a rabbit.
Then my chihuahua mom decided to kick the bucket. That was the start of a Memorial Day weekend. She was having trouble breathing and eventually needed help. And, of course, our vet was closed for the holiday. So, on a Friday night my mom and dad got an appointment with an emergency clinic and my doggie mom got a shot to help her breathe better. The next day she went back and got The Big Needle.
Total bill? About $800. Instead of $150.
And nowadays it seems as if I always start looking a little . . . weak . . . on Friday night. So I’ve gotten used to hearing, “You better not need to go to the vet over the next two days. Or else.”
So yes, there’s a moral to this story. Cold and flu season are right around the corner. If you’re going to get sick and need some medical attention – and if you value your time and wallet – trust me, I’d avoid the weekend.
Save it for a Monday.
Polly the Sassy (and sniffle-free) Chihuahua