It has been a busy time around the old homestead since I last sat down with my scribe to submit a post. My apologies for my short hiatus. In the meantime, I have built up a lot of stories I need to translate to you over the next week or so.
Among these are:
1) Sammy welcomes aunt Elaine to our house
2) My potential weight gain
2) “Mostly dead” on the radio
3) Sammy has a new voice
4) My friend meets a skunk – which just might lead to a four part exposé on these little black and white critters
5) A house full of relatives – and how things change once they are gone
6) What happens when someone stays home with me (and how my dad screwed up)- More data from the Whistle
7) A friend named Scarneckia
But for tonight I thought I would stick with the story that is the title of today’s blog…Our Hunger Strike.
To be completely honest, we never completely missed a meal but we did let our food sit in our bowls for awhile to start this week -something we never do. However, once I explain why this happened I am sure you will not lay blame on us but those horrible parents we are stuck with.
Ever since Sammy had his surgery, he has been on a restricted diet and a different feeding schedule due to the meds he was taking. The whole point of the meds, our parents told us, was to prevent him from throwing up (they used the term emesis but I already knew what that meant – us dogs being prone to that sort of thing). Puking -another word we hear a lot 🙂 is a very bad thing for someone who has recently had one of his laryngeal flaps sown to the side of his throat. This is because the aspirate could end up entering his lungs causing a potentially fatal case of pneumonia – something I seriously did not want him to have to endure (especially the death thing since he already tried that once). I think you people sometimes refer to an event like this as “going down the wrong pipe”. Anyhow, he had to take his medicine 3 times a day and have soft, palatable food 30 minutes after dosing. I think I may have already mentioned this but the medicine did not always sit well with him and he quickly associated the different types of food with his unpleasant tummy. My parents therefore had to try all sorts of tricks to get him to eat…I benefited greatly from his finickiness since whatever he dropped to the floor I tended to scarf up!
His course of treatment lasted 3 whole weeks which eventually eliminated a number of food choices. The last few days we (but mostly him) got either chicken breast, tuna, sweet potatoes or a combination thereof. Good times indeed!!!
But like all good things, this run came to an end on Sunday evening and we were back to dry kibble with a little wet food added. In other words: same ol’, same ol’.
We did not take favorably to this turn in culinary offerings. We both independently (but also synchronously) turned our noses up at what was in our bowls and walked over to the stove (Sammy) and the refrigerator (me). This was not a planned course of action but again you can see how well we work with one another.
To our dismay – and supreme disappointment – our objections were met with complete indifference. I was quite flabbergasted and Sammy was down right pissed off. But again, no response from our parents despite our indignation. We continued our hunger strike that evening until we could no longer stand it – the pain became almost crippling after 2 hours and the bowls were emptied by bed time (I may have taken more than my share).
I’ll cut this story short now since the sequence of events was pretty much the same for the next few meals although our “strike” duration decreased with each repetition. As of tonight, we are back to our normal schedule (one breakfast, one dinner) which we scarf down with our typical gusto.
I guess the best thing about this tale is that Sammy is even more like his old self than ever. I still wouldn’t mind if he was a little “under the weather” so we can go back to tuna and chicken but if I had to choose I would go for the status quo.
ps- the #2 point above we really don’t have to discuss (which is why I had Dad strike it out. First off, it is not nice to talk about a girls weight. Secondly, you can probably figure out how something like that might have happened – given what I related in this entry.