I love our dogs. I really do. They are our furkids, and I'd do just about anything for them. Including shelling out upwards of $1100 because Rolo did this while I was at work on Wednesday:
Note that the oozing liquid coming from the plastic bag on the right was actually a new bottle of jack Daniels that I was carrying in from the grocery store. I managed to drop it once I saw the kitchen disaster and it shattered and leaked out everywhere amongst the orange peels, coffee grounds and sweet potato peels. Yay me.
Once the mess was cleaned up, I noticed that Rolo was hiding in his dog bed–not out of shame for having destroyed the kitchen, but because his abdomen was swollen and hard and he was in a great deal of pain.
Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to the emergency vet we go…
They game him a thorough exam and did x-rays…
Which turned up nothing urgent or surgical, so we went with a diagnosis of pancreatitis. They gave him fluids and pain meds and sent us home with instructions to let him rest.
In the morning, he was worse. He cried and cried and cried. It was awful to listen to. (Pardon the quality–all you need is the sound.)
We ended up right back at the vet, where he was hospitalized for the remainder of the day. Poor little guy is still in pain today, but things are looking a bit up. He's walking a little bit, and his tummy isn't as swollen. Poor little guy.
I sure hope we all learn our lessons about the trash can this time. We've already started looking at cabinets like this, which we will promptly install child locks on. Grrrr.