Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Hillbillies on the Highway

The great thing about having opposable thumbs is that along with dexterity you also have a brain capable of learning lessons based on past experience.

Which leads us to the great gasoline hunt of Winchester, Ontario last Saturday night as we were racing toward the Emergency Veterinary Hospital.

Details to follow.


JUST KIDDING!

So, after a 13-hour drive, almost running out of gas once, backtracking 30-km to fuel up, battling the ridiculous traffic that is downtown Montreal, we finally arrived, tired and hungry in Ingleside about 8 o'clock Saturday night. Everyone was very happy to see us, including Dexter a 120-lb chocolate lab belonging to Buzz's brother Mark, at whose house we were staying. Dexter is Snickers' arch-nemesis.

Dexter, the big boy that he is, will happily chase Snickers round and round and round the yard until he collapses in a gob-slobbery heap on the deck, completely spent, or so you think. After a half hour of letting the two run and chase and hump and sniff and lick each other's whizzers we thought we'd give our beastly boy a break and so shut him off in the mud room to enjoy a dish full of diet dog food.

Well.

Snicks would have none of it.

After locking him in the mud-room I continued on my way through the kitchen to the living room and out the sliding screen door to the deck. As I swung the screen door behind me and began to inspect Mark's rain barrel I heard a blood-curdling YELP from behind me.

I turned to look and there he was, my beastly boy, flat on the ground, with both front legs contorted underneath him and looking dazed and confused.

I dropped to my knees and pleaded with him to get up.

He couldn't.

That's when I let out a blood curdling scream of my own "BUZZ - HE CAN'T GET UP, HE CAN'T GET UP!!!!!!!"

Poor Buzz. He had just settled into the bathroom upstairs for a post-roadtrip meditation session.

Dropping his reading material and grabbing his pants from his ankles he raced downstairs to see me collapsed on the floor with Snickers' head in my lap, trying to coax him to stand up.

He tried valiantly, but all he could manage was a belly crawl to me. His front legs were curled up from his "wrists," inverted in an odd shape, completely unable to put any pressure or weight on his limbs. I didn't know if he had broken his legs, dislocated a shoulder or something more sinister like broken his neck.

What a great start to the two week vacation.

Having a former nurse for a mother-in-law paid off as she was on the phone immediately to the On-call Vet at the Emergency Animal Hospital who said to load the dog in the car and meet her at the clinic.

Buzz gathered up all 63-lbs of the beast and put him in the back of the truck and we headed off to Winchester. As we entered the 401 Buzz looked down at the dash board and says, quietly, calmly, "Um, we better keep an eye out for a gas station, we're almost empty."

AS IF I NEED THAT SHIT AT THIS POINT OF THE DAY!

As we made our way to Winchester, a quiet burg about 45 minutes away we encountered endless gas stations. None of which were open.

We couldn't find the vet clinic. We were dangerously low on fuel. I think my dog is dying in the back of the car.

And so, it's just another Saturday night in the life of Buzz and Kim.

One frantic call home and we were pointed in the right direction to the Vet Clinic where Buzz carried Snickers in for an emergency consult. My poor boy could not even stand on the exam table. The vet thought their might be some neurological damage.

With Snicks in the hands of a vet and with me shaking in my boots, Buzz left us in search of a gas station open at 10 o'clock on a Saturday night in the countryside. No easy feat, but he found one and so, a half-hour later when he returned he could not have been more surprised to see the Snicks had made a miraculous recovery and was up on all fours, parading about the clinic, tail wagging, seemingly none the worse for wear.

And so, after one big dose of anti-inflammatory and pain killers and an emergency vet bill in greatly exceeding my discretionary spending for the trip, we loaded the dog back in the truck and headed back to Mark's place for dinner.

So what if it shaved 5 years off my life. Who cares if I'm still suffering heart palpitations from the heart attack I suffered at the hands of my dog. It's no big deal that we almost ran out of gas twice in one day.

Snicks is fine.

We got to the cottage. We even showed up with a full tank of gas.

We've been drinking non-stop ever since.