Happy Freakin' New Year

Or, how to kill your dog with margarine.

Master RD is one sick dog and he wants your prayers, good vibes or whatever you subscribe to, cosmically, sent his way.

On Friday night while I was out with friends, RD got into the recycling and cleaned out an old margarine container. On Saturday morning he began to vomit. When he refused breakfast and got the shakes, I called the vet. Some dogs refuse the odd meal. RD is not one of those dogs.

At the vet we learned that RD has suffered an attack of acute pancreatitis; its underlying cause may lay in the prolonged use of the prednisone that keeps him walking, but the onset was most likely the margarine, as consumption of fat often precipitates an attack like this. I know you readers are all smart enough to Google "pancreatitis" but here's the short version - RD's pancreas is digesting itself.

The result is one very, very sick RD. He's nauseous, he's weak, he's vomiting blood. Thanks to my wonderful vet and to Cookie Uncle, RD is hooked up to an IV line that is hooked up to my curtain rod, and he spends his days shaking and panting and puking on his dog bed. He's a good boy - he stays where I tell him to, and he doesn't touch his IV line because I asked him not to. It's not fair, he's such a great dog. Good health hates RD.

But I know you all love him. His eleventh birthday happens on the 29th of this month, and we want to be sure he's around to see it. Please send him your well wishes and keep my boy in your thoughts. He could sure use 'em.