A Long Weekend

1:40am, the nurse unlocked the door of Adobe Animal Hospital and let us in. We made an appointment 6 hours ago from 380 miles away. It was a long drive; I made sure not to drive too fast. Monty lay on our laps most of the time. Adobe is his hospital. He met his first vet here 6 years ago. We signed up for his obedience class next door. I learned Monty’s ferocious love of string cheeses in the class; his baby teeth left quite a few marks on my hand.

The hospital has a bit Stephen King movie atmosphere. A golden retriever’s humanoid pack members cuddled him. Cyber coughed blood earlier. A cat, in the carrier, had trouble breathing. A woman was in uncontrollable tears outside an exam room. Monty was oblivious and pretty much just rest on daughter’s laps, waiting patiently, as he always. Cyber needed to stay over-night. The doctor asked if CPR should be administered if the situation requires it. We dreaded the same question when he suggested that Monty stay the night. But he did not. Monty was not in morbid danger.

Monty’s bane was in our minds when we started the journey from San Jose 19 hours ago. We heard that Monty puked all over the places last Saturday. After 3 days of intermittent vomit, his care-taker took him to a vet who prescribed antibiotics and potassium. That did not help. He stopped eating and grew weaker. On Friday, we decided to bring him back to Adobe if he can endure the ride. At 3pm, we arrived LA. At 7pm, we started the return trip with Monty in the car. A round-trip to LA takes 14 hours of driving, mental preparation, and several pain killers along the way.

Adobe confirmed that Monty lost 20% of his weight in that week. Imagine that. We had a bit trouble falling asleep, although extremely tired after the long drive.

Sunday moved through its normal rhythm but always with a conscientious awareness of Monty. We would jump at the phone whenever it rang and check our cell phones for missed calls. After about 12 hours of electrolytes, via IV, the vet decided to ultra-sound his abdomen. The phone rang quickly, “We strongly recommend a surgery to extract an object.”

More waiting ensued. Finally, slightly passed 11pm, “We found a peach pit. It bruised, but not ruptured, his intestine, moving slowly toward the end. He has woken up from the surgery. We will keep him here until he eats. We expect full recovery in a week or so.”

Suddenly, the air seems lighter and the TV became more interesting. “This must’ve costed me,” I thought to myself as I fell asleep.

Epilogue: Monty is back home Monday afternoon. He is a bit weak and slow, but happy, lazy, and hungry. Like always.

Yep. It costed me.