Juno Rescued Beagle

In the dawning hours of Sunday morning, I lay in a state halfway between both worlds for exactly two seconds before it all came back to me, sitting bolt upright as the events of only a few hours earlier hit me. Like a wave of nausea if came over me. Fear and panic. I nervously checked my cell phone to see if I had somehow missed a call from the hospital. Nothing. Considering that I slept with the phone on the pillow beside me, I should not have been surprised. Exhale.

As I got out of bed, bereft of our normal Sunday routine of cuddles and belly rubs, my body felt as though I had been hit by a bus. Aching head to toe yet numb with fear, I knew the I had to take care of Raven and Maya before I did anything else. Raven, usually bubbly and full of life at that hour of the morning was oddly subdued as we made our way outside for out morning routine. Maya, oblivious to everything except a rouge leaf that tumbled across the yard in the wind, for once did her business without hesitation. As I fed them breakfast the phone rang, I’m fairly certain my heart did not skip a beat but hammered wildly inside my already aching body.

Slightly breathless, I answered on the second ring. It was the hospital. Juno had an okay night but was clearly still very uncomfortable. A new critical care vet introduced himself and got quickly to the point. X-rays taken just a short time ago indicated that Juno’s stomach was still rather large considering the lack of food and water in the past 24 hours. All signs pointed toward an obstruction and he recommended exploratory surgery that day. Not feeling equipped to make this decision alone I asked him if we had time for me to consult with Juno’s regular vet, who is part of a small group of vet’s and have special Sunday hours for their regular patients. If Juno was stable enough to wait then I wanted to get a second opinion, especially in light of last nights critical care vet having a different feeling on how Juno would be feeling come morning. Without a moments hesitation he not only agreed that we could wait but offered to call and consult with her. Not knowing if she would be on call this Sunday I said I would have her call him.

The minutes ticked by painfully slow as I waited for noon to roll around. At exactly 12:02 pm I called our vets office. Dr. Ying was not in but as I pleaded my case they called her and within ten minutes she was calling me. As I answered the phone I completely broke down. I didn’t know what to do. They wanted to do exploratory surgery but there was no guarantee they would find anything. She could have an inflamed belly because of the vomiting. She could have several obstructions, there was no way to know unless they cut.

I have a very healthy distrust of most medical professionals because I believe that our bodies and the bodies of all creatures have an innate ability to heal themselves without the intervention of modern medicine, which can at times make things worse. I also know that there are circumstances where all the homeopathic remedies in the world can’t fix what’s ailing you. This was an extremely important decision and I did not feel in the emotional state of mind to make it without someone with more medical experience than me who I trusted with my little girl. I could think of no one other than Dr. Ying. From the day I met her she has been so gentle and kind to Juno. She has a vested interest in helping Juno to stop itching. She has gone out of her way to help my little girl and because of that, I trust her implicitly.

Dr. Ying offered to call the critical care vet to discuss Juno. Thirty minutes later I was on the phone with the hospital giving my approval for them to perform surgery on Juno. They offered to email me the forms for approval to perform surgery, an offer I quickly refused. If they were cutting my Juno open stem to stern I was going to hold vigil and pace until they were done.

After the papers were signed they brought Juno out to see me. She got as far as the ER doors as I rushed towards her she flopped over on her back, belly up, determined to not be robbed of her Sunday morning belly rubs, she demanded them right there on the floor of the animal hospital. It was clear from the reactions of the staff that my heart was not the only one my little girl has stolen. We get that a lot though. She’s beautiful, inside and out. She does not discriminate, your hand or mine is as good as the next when it’s belly rub time, but I do believe that she was telling me something by her aptly timed flop over!

The staff approached me several times asking if we were done cuddling. I think it was either the look on my face or Juno’s that sent them away without another word. I had no idea what the next few hours would bring. I was warned of all the possibilities of what they may or may not find when they opened her up. In all honesty, I was not prepared for any of them.

I suppose when a reluctant family is not ready to send their loved one to the OR the hospital sends out the big guns. The surgeon came out of the ER and joined us on the floor. Juno of course asked for belly rubs. She has a few rules but the belly rub rule is king. You may not sit next to the beagle unless you rub her belly. That’s just how it goes in the life of a beagle.

He was kind and patient as I asked questions and he answered them. He was genuinely curious about her background and told me a story of the beagle colony when he was in vet school and how he helped them to be adopted after their studies were over. We spoke about Juno’s procedure and how sweet she was. He explained about the procedure he was going to perform and that she would be in surgery for about 1 – 1/2 hours. He stood up and gently tugged the leash from my hands. Before I let go of her leash, I asked him if he had a good nights sleep and if he ate a good lunch. I offered to go get him something nutritious before her surgery. He laughed and declined my offer but did reassure me that he slept very well the night before and that Juno was going to be fine. He promised to call the moment they were done or if there were any complications. As he walked into the ER with my little girl I put a white light around them both and waited.

Paul and Deandra, my rocks throughout, tag teamed me and said they were starving and would I help them find a coffee shop. They knew I had eaten only toast in the past 24 hours and no doubt wanted to nourish me. The staff all assured me that if anything happened while I was gone the surgeon would call me immediately.

Ten minutes later I was sitting in a booth with a steaming hot bowl of soup and a big crusty hunk of bread. I choked it down, bit by bit, knowing I wouldn’t be worth a damn if I didn’t take care of myself. As we finished up, I found myself alone at the table lost in my thoughts. The vibration of my phone on the table snapped me back to reality. The caller ID registered the hospital. A quick calculation and I realized we had only left 45 minutes ago. In a split second my head was pounding as my heart racing and my soup threatening to make it’s way back up. There’s a problem. Why would they be calling me so soon? I nervously answered as the surgeon happily announced himself on the other end. “She’s all done. In and out. She’s resting in recovery right now.” I couldn’t believe my ears! He said it was a very easy procedure and that there was indeed a blockage, a linear blockage. A piece of fabric from a toy attached to a piece of string and on the other end another piece of fabric. One end was in her stomach the other in her intestine. It was stuck, she never would have passed it. Had we not acted when we did I would be writing in memoriam right now and not in celebration of her recovery.

I asked if I could see her and he said it was not a good idea. She was too out of it and my being there would only excite her and they wanted her to rest. Call often and anytime to check on her, he said. We will see you in the morning. Oh yes, they would, but at that moment I was being sent home, Juno was not the only one out of it. As my head hit the pillow for a short nap at 7:15 pm that night I was feeling a bit more confident that things were going to be okay. My eyelids felt like leaden weights and as I let sleep overtake me I promised myself that as soon as I woke up I would call to check on Juno. Little did I know that my nap would last 9 hours and take me straight through to the wee hours of Monday morning. A brand new day, a day for the healing to begin.

(to be continued)

Please consider helping Juno with her medical expenses. Click on her photo to be taken to her Fundrazr page.