Last night our peaceful sleep was disturbed a number of times by Kudzu. The same scenario repeated itself several times throughout the evening. Kudzu would 'AROO' (not to be confused with AROOOF!), Mom would get up, he'd pretend to be asleep, mom would lay down, he'd AROO again, and mom would get up and take him out. (Ok, so dad got up with him some too, but who's counting?)
Then this morning Kudzu vomited and had a bout of diarrhea. But what happened next stunned us all. Kudzu refused his breakfast. Mom knew it was serious. So off to the only vet opened on Saturday anywhere around we flew. (Well, mom and the kids with Kudzu. I had to stay home.) <disappointed sigh>
Mom called the vet's office to confirm that they were indeed open. We were informed that they were but would close at noon. Any patients entering after 12:00 P.M. would be charged an emergency visit which is a hefty hundred extra buck-a-roo-roo-roos. It was 11:26 and we were thirty miles away. Mom told the kids to buckle up and hang on. *It should be noted that mom is a safety freak and never drives more than three miles per hour over the speed limit.* They arrived at the animal hospital with four minutes to spare. And everyone was still in one piece!
Upon examining Kudzu and after all his fecal exams had come back negative, the vet asked if he'd eaten any hoo-man food. This is a big 'no-no' in our home, and mom quickly conveyed that message. It was at that point that one of the hoo-man children recalled Kudzu had busted and eaten part of an ice pack the night before.
A shot and four medications later, we are proud to report that Kudzu will be a-ok in no time. Mom, however, is not thrilled with that bloomin' ice-pack costing $155.
But at least Kudzu is safe. And that's all that matters.
