That used to be the name of a TV news show, I believe. It chronicled the eclectic events that made the week's news and helped us make sense of it. Sort of.
We've had a wild ride this week!
It started out innocently enough with a Sunday visit to the bestest Flea around:
Mr. Tennis and I met The Maven and Mrs. Smith-Smith in Pasadena for breakfast and flea-ing. Mrs. Smith-Smith (The Writer and Sammy and The Maven's (!) back door neighbor a good friend who helped in the Stanley rescue) was a newbie. I was in heaven as she wanted to explore all corners of this enormous market.
We all returned to our 'red-neck roots' and sported sunburns later in the day.
I also came home with a couple of treasures (Mr. Tennis doesn't consider them treasures, but one day maybe he'll understand this -used is better- philosophy of mine).
A couple of Jadeite pots for my little succulent collection.
And a rusty old light. Everyone needs one of those, right?
What's not to understand?
As the week progressed things started to take a strange and scary turn. A trip to the vet was necessary for the Head Boston, Panda, in the household. She was coughing, sneezing and seemed weak.
Upper respiratory infection was the diagnosis. Made sense to me.
Sadie listened through the door as Panda received a couple of injections to help her fight the beast.
She was still breathing a little hard the next morning when I got up for my 6am class, and I prepared to give her the first at home dose of antibiotic and cough medicine. Put the pills in her food and was setting the bowl down when she did a strange cough, made an odd noise and then wolfed down the food in one enormous gulp instead of her usual bite-by-bite style of eating.
From there she went into some sort of a panic fit. Trotting around the house, circling back, going out into the side-yard, trotting back into the house, over and over again without stopping. Panting, eyes bulging, totally manic.
I had to head in to teach the Japanese who were waiting online, so Mr. T came out to watch her and see if she would calm down. When I emerged from teaching they were both gone.
Long story short, Mr. T took her to the emergency vet because her breathing was getting worse and worse. They immediately put her in an oxygen tent and said that if he hadn't brought her, she wouldn't have lasted but a few more minutes like that.
She was running a fever by now, extremely agitated and upset. She couldn't stand or walk. It wasn't looking good. They sedated her, got her somewhat stabilized and asked for permission to do x-rays and blood work. Also a neuro exam to determine if she'd lost her marbles because of the 'fugue' we described. This would take several hours and they would call when they had some answers. Mr. T went to work and I drove towards home.
We do strange things to distract ourselves when a crisis is looming and my way of coping was to stop at a huge Goodwill store that I had never seen before. It was like walking into a department store! Great organization and great inventory.
Ever the mindful blogger, I snapped a picture of a section full of old tarnished silver.
Beautiful! I'll be back.
We were hoping to be able to bring Panda home for the night and avoid those high emergency vet fees, so I was anxious on many levels and just headed home and for some reason took a long nap.
Vet called about 3pm and said that her blood work was fine, her xrays were unremarkable and the neuro check found her to be sound (well, at least one of us is...). Her breathing was getting better, she was off oxygen and she was still sedated. I could come and pick her up.
They released her into my custody with sedatives (for her, not me-I wish!) and instructions to keep her quiet, sedated and cool. I felt like I was bringing home a ticking time bomb.
Right after coming home, here's 'The Queen', passed out with her woobies.
After a restless night of panting, being sedated, running a fever, making her drink water with a syringe and numerous trips to the side yard, 'just in case'. She woke up looking like this:
Normal! (yes, I know, there's nothing 'normal' about Panda) No panting, no bulging eyes, ate food in a normal fashion, drank from water bowl, good to go!
She was even able to jump up on 'her' bed (which she allows us on) and sleep the sleep of the contented (and drugged).
Twenty-four hours and not a trace of the manic, panting, collapsing canine we encountered the previous morning.
As I write this we have just returned from our first 'normal' walk and she seemed to pant less than she has in years! We are mystified and our wallets are still spinning from money spent at the ERvet.
Twelve years old.
The Old Grey Mare, she's just like she used to be - reborn and bounced back like a two-year-old.
Now excuse me while I go see if those sedatives will be safe for humans....