Sunday, December 2, 2012
Shortly after arriving, the vet tech brought Mo'i out to see me. Oh, man, he looked good! Alert, happy to see me, tail wagging, giving me his customary “hug”. If I didn't know better, I wouldn't have known he'd just had a fairly major surgical procedure. The photo at upper right is Mo'i after returning home (in his “Elizabethan collar” so he doesn't chew his staples out)...
The post-operative care is simple in his case: no strenuous activity for a week or so, bland diet (boiled chicken and rice) and small frequent meals for a few days, and a couple of drugs. Nothing hard at all. In ten days or so, we'll get his staples out.
We drove home via the grocery store, to get Mo'i a nice pile of chicken thighs to boil up and mix with rice. Once home, he took a little walk, had a small meal, and drank (oddly, he didn't want water, so I mixed a little chicken-flavored “Gatorade for dogs” for him, and he loved that). Then we took a look at his wound (above left), which looks fine.
The fine folks at Animal ER were happy to make a CD with Mo'i's X-rays for me to take home. Below are the two X-rays showing his gastric volvutus so clearly that even I can tell that something is wrong. Note how the bloated stomach pushed other organs around – that must have been epically painful for the poor guy...
I think I've posted this before, but I couldn't find it so...here it goes again (maybe). Via my cousin Mike D.:
The train was quite crowded, so a U. S. Marine walked the entire length looking for a seat, but the only seat left was taken by a well dressed, middle-aged, French woman's poodle.
The war-weary Marine asked, 'Ma'am, may I have that seat?'
The French woman just sniffed and said to no one in particular 'Americans are so rude. My little Fifi is using that seat.'
The Marine walked the entire train again, but the only seat left was under that dog. 'Please, ma'am. May I sit down? I'm very tired.'
She snorted, 'Not only are you Americans rude, you are also arrogant!'
This time the Marine didn't say a word; he just picked up the little dog, threw it out of the train window, and sat down.
The woman shrieked, 'Someone must defend my honour! This American should be put in his place!'
An English gentleman sitting nearby spoke up, 'Sir, you Americans often seem to have a penchant for doing the wrong thing. You hold the fork in the wrong hand. You drive your cars on the wrong side of the road. And now, sir, you seem to have thrown the wrong bitch out of the window.'
Via my mom:
A union boss walks into a bar next door to the factory and is about to order a drink to celebrate Obama’s victory when he sees a guy close by wearing a Romney for President button with two beers in front of him. He doesn't have to be an Einstein to know that this guy is a Republican. So, he shouts over to the bartender so loudly that everyone can hear, "Drinks for everyone in here, bartender, but not for the Republican."
Soon after the drinks have been handed out, the Republican gives him a big smile, waves at him, then says, "Thank you!" in an equally loud voice. This infuriates the union boss.
So the union boss once again loudly orders drinks for everyone except the Republican. As before, this does not seem to bother the Republican. He continues to smile, and again yells, "Thank you!"
So just to make his point one more time, the union boss once again loudly orders drinks for everyone except the Republican. But, as before, this does not seem to bother the Republican. He continues to smile, and again yells, "Thank you!"
Frustrated, the union boss asks the bartender, "What the heck is the matter with that Republican? I've ordered three rounds of drinks for everyone in the bar but him, and all the silly joker does is smile and thank me. Is he nuts?"
"Nope," replies the bartender. "He owns the place."