The $177 Hairball

The first clues were the two poops (individual, tidy, hard poops) in the middle of the living room floor. Maggie has NEVER pooped (or peed) outside of the litter box in all 9 years of her existence, so I knew something must be up.

Usually, when I call for her, she comes running. I called - No running.

As I went for TP to do away with the poops, I noticed the first puke. It looked like your basic, hairball puke. (Still calling - No running.)

Puke #2 was outside the bathroom. I notice that some of the more liquid parts of this puke are tinged pink. Slight fear sets in. (More calling - No running.)

When I went to pick up the poops, pukes #3 and 4 were discovered close by. (The calling is getting more insistent now.)

On the way up the stairs, #5 on third stair and just pink tinged liquid.

#6 on the curved part of stair 4 where the horizontal plane turns to verticle. How does an animal manage to puke there? Running for the bathroom and didn't make it?? Slight fear is turning into full on fear.

Turn the corner onto the landing. Puke #7.

#8 is in the hallway.

#9 is in the front bedroom.

#10 is in the doorway of my bedroom.

And there's Mags huddled in the corner of my bedroom. I picked her up and her breathing was way off. Too shallow and sounded conjested. Also, she'd normally be squirming to get away from my holding, but she's curling into me almost wanting to be held. Fear turns into controlled panic.

Then I noticed she has puked all over her left paw. I've known this being for 9 years and she is PRISTINE. One hair out of place isn't right, let alone puke on the paw. This is NOT right.

I call Mom cause that I what I do when I panic, she says to call a vet and try to stay as calm as possible. I call L who keeps me just calm enough and helps find the number for the emergency vet. They say to bring her in immediately.

Shove her head first (the only way that has ANY hope of working) into the crate (twice, she escaped the first time) with only minor injuries to show for it and head out.

It has been a tough 2 weeks or so and I cry my eyes (ok - eye...only one works) out on the way. Not sure why - I'm not a big crier, but I do.

Get there and they whisk her away.

I waited and hour and a half for the doc. And, let me tell ya, the emergency is a sad and scary place. People aren't coming their for check ups. They are coming because Fido is breathing his last breath, or Fluffy got hit by a car. I saw several pale faces and more than one person in tears.

Vet finally shows and tells me: "She most likely has a hairball."

WHAT?!? ARE YA KIDDING ME?!?!? A HAIRBALL?!? She's had hairballs her whole life and has never puked 10 times in every room of the house, nor shown signs of blood, nor had her breathing disrupted.

So, they rehydrated her(See? A good mom - Not a panic-er. She was dehydrated. She needed fluids.), gave her a shot for the vomiting, and sent me home with anti-hairball, molasses looking stuff.

Now putting the pieces together, I realize that first sign poops were there because she heaved so hard they were forced out. (We won't talk about any similar, real life instances.)

Poor little thing!

I'm not totally convinced of the diagnoses and am going to watch her like a hawk for the next couple of days.

But she's just finished trying to drink my water (big no-no), licking her butt (yeah, I know, those two things don't go together so well - hence the no-no), and is now sprawled out on the coffee table resting peacefully.

I had better find a hairball somewhere in the next few days that is about the size of a soccer ball. Otherwise, those $177 could have bought me maybe a tank of gas or maybe a trip to Target.