If dogs could sue…

…Abbye would be calling a lawyer right now. She thinks we’re guilty of the worse kind of abuse.

Let me back up. Now that we’ve gotten a firm diagnosis of Cushing’s Disease, and have determined that it’s being caused by tumor on either her adrenal or pituitary glands, the next step is to pinpoint the placement of the tumor(s), as that will determine the course of treatment. So, she was scheduled for an ultrasound scan today at a clinic in Odessa, apparently the only one in the area with the necessary equipment. We drove over and appeared a bit early, in case there was any paperwork, and were met by the receptionist with this question:

“So, has the pet been fasting?”
“Uh…no. Was she supposed to?”
“Just a minute, please.”

She disappears into the back recesses of the building, but we know what’s coming.

In a few minutes, the doctor appears and escorts us into a waiting room where she explains that there was apparently a communications snafu between us and our vet, who set up the appointment. It seems that the ultrasound is extremely sensitive to air, and the presence of air (gas) will prevent a clear reading. Since a dog’s adrenal glands are located in close proximity to the colon (I didn’t know that, by the way), it’s imperative that the gut be, well, gas-free, hence the requirement for a 24-hour fast prior to the scan…a requirement of which we were not aware.

So, starting at around 4:00 this afternoon, Abbye’s food dish has been hidden away, and she’s come up empty-pawed in terms of post-dinner treats. She is not amused.

It’s not like she’s going to waste away to nothing…she has plenty of reserves stored. But, of course, she doesn’t understand that. What she does understand is that we’re the worst people in the world and if she could dial a phone, the SPCA would be banging on our door at this very moment, presumably bearing a court summons for us and a pork roast for her.

She’s really going to be upset when we take up her water dish at 11:00 p.m.

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