This past Tuesday was helacious. Is that how you spell it??
Start me off with another looooong day at work, problem after problem, no solution after no solution. Awesome!
Norm headed to the vet at about 8 am for a day of vaccinnes. At about 11:30 I called and the vet tech told me he was ready to be picked up. About 15 minutes later I get a call on my office phone from Josh (vet tech). "Yeahhhh, um, if you could just leave Mr. Norman here until after you get off work, that would probably be best. He's had a bit of an anaphlactic reaction to the vaccinnes and he's swollen all over." Oh my. After being assured that the baby pug is ok, I showed up, as requested, about 5:30 to retrieve mr. puffy. He charges out, excited as ever, looking really good (he got a complimentary bath since they had to douse him in cold water to ward off the hives....comforting). When I get him home, he goes racing through the house, running into walls, snorting like never before. Obviously it's been a really bad day and he's glad to be home. Pollard is there, sweet as ever, and off goes Ms. Dorothy.
About half way through his dinner, Norm goes postal. He's left his food in the bowl (never before seen) and is dive-bombing into Allie's bed. Runs as fast as he can (which is not very fast) to the couch, throws off all the pillows, runs underneath a circular glass table that I have and will NOT emerge from beneath the table cloth. Not even for a milkbone. Bad sign.
I finally pull the pug out from under the table (baby is cooing sweetly in pack-n-play) and his face looks like a balloon. His fur is standing on end, hives everywhere, and he is having trouble breathing. He looked exactly like a Char-pei.
Suddenly, I too am having trouble breathing. Baby is laughing at his toys.
I grab the phone and the pug, throw him in the bath tub and douse him with cold water. I hit a picture frame and knock it off my shelf, it goes crashing to the floor. Pillow are everywhere.
I desperately call the vet praying that someone is still in the office. Thank you LORD, Dr. Rogers is still there. When I tell him it's another flare up, he says "Are you sure??" AM I SURE?!?!?
After he believes me he tells me to get him to the office ASAP. I am sweating profusely. Baby still cooing and laughing.
I grab my purse, throw it over my neck (literally), grab a paci, throw it in the purse. Get a towel. Get Norm in the towel, put pug in right arm. Reach into pack-n-play and put baby in left arm. All while looking at the baby saying cheerfully "It's OK! This is fun! This is not an emergency!"
This is SO an emergency.
After getting another IV of some sort of doggie-benadryl, Big Norm was back to his curly-tailed usual self. Pollard was an angel, didn't make a peep. I was sweating like never before, and somehow my right foot was bleeding.
After a few hours in our bedroom by the air vent, and 2 anti-histamines, Norman Wayne Henig is baaaaaaack.