The Continuing Saga of the Six Sick Puppies

 Continuing the saga of the six little dogs, I found them in worse shape when I awoke this morning. Jagger had spent the night in my house and had vomited three times, and although he seemed bright-eyed in the morning, he was still not interested in eating anything. 

Soon, three of the six remaining dogs showed up at my door. The female dog, Dixie, was listless and refusing food. One of the little brown dogs, Loki, straightaway left a puddle of blood and feces on the floor and appeared to be in bad shape indeed, wobbly and confused. Otis showed up briefly, and seemed steady but listless.  The other two dogs I saw not at all. 

So I communicated all these things to Louis, who was on her way over anyway, and and it was decided, after a conference with concerned neighbors and by phone with a clinic, that all of the dogs needed to go to the hospital. , 

All of them, of course, have parvovirus, a common and quite deadly virus that afflicts puppies (what we tend to call 'distemper'). They were loaded into a neighbor's van and trundled off to the hospital with Louis and a couple of the neighbors. I myself was feeling ill, so stayed at home. 

At the hospital, the puppies received some sort of infusion. Three of them, last I heard, will return tonight, but must be kept separate in cages, while three will stay the night at the hospital, a rather dreary prognosis hanging over them at this point. If any survive, they will return tomorrow. 

As for Jagger, Dixie, and Mylo, they, if they survive five more days, will receive vaccinations. 

When Louis arrived back at my house after the experience at the hospital, she was in tears. This had all gone so very swiftly from six rambunctious puppies to six deathly ill puppies, and the hard fact of just how ill they were shook her up.

All of this is why I had said from the start that I did not want a puppy. It's just too hard to see this sort of thing happen, and here in Bali this sort of thing always happens--this or something else equally as deadly. How many dogs have I seen die while I've been here? I've completely lost count, and don't really want to think about it. 

And yet here I sit, missing little Jagger, missing his wild careening around the room, missing his sleepy eyes when he tires and settles down on his rug or fits himself in to the nest of his siblings. Such innocent things, such unsuspecting things.