A bad Fright at the bottom of the Rainbow

Well, its been a little too exciting this weekend, but I wont get ahead of myself. The weather this week has been...stoating. Its been swinging between mild and bitter cold and all the time a driving heavy rain that feels like someone is throwing ice into your face.

The only benefit of this has been the rainbows. I spent several minutes on the phone describing the one above to my mother - the photo fails to so any justice as their was nine bands of colour. Despite the rainbows, everyone seems to be ill. I've been steeping in hot baths most nights this week (trust me, I cant afford to catch a chill, biology is against me with my delightful combination of shockingly bad circulation, low blood pressure and raynauds) whilst both my mother and brother have had vomiting bugs.

There had been grand plans this weekend of meeting family in Linlithgow (the members who weren't ill!), but I had to call it off after one of the worst nights ever with Missy. Worse than when I thought she'd blown her back out bad.

At first we thought she had a chill. She was being clingy and just acting out of sorts. Then she started trembling and shaking. Then we noticed that her quilt was wet - she hadn't had an accident, but had more sprung a slow leak. Let her outside, not interested. Fresh blankets and a waterproof under layer and we were dismayed as she rigidly lay, sphinx like, swaying.

I lost my childhood dog to a series of strokes so was starting to get inconsolable. I insisted, slow leak or not, she be allowed on the bed so that if she deteriorated any more we could get her straight to the emergency vet. An hour later she threw up a ball of leaves. Yes. Leaves. From trees. Rancid smelling leaves. A huge ball of them. We changed the bedding, watched her have a stretch and a potter about the garden a little and decided that she clearly was looking better for getting that up and out her system and tucked her back up.

I'd insisted that she had to go to the vets regardless the next day, and when we got up, despite some indignant shivering at being sent out of a warm bed and out to a balmy 2C walk to the bottom of the road and back, she seemed fine. The new bedding and quilts I'd put down for her were completely dry and she was alert and looking for food. With the slow leak I had fallen prey to Dr Google and matched up a few of her symptoms to a possible urine infection.

Picture this. Its 8am. 2C. My hubby is walking Missy on the lead and I'm stalking her with some old tupperware. All I can say is thank goodness she cocks her leg when she pees on things!

You've probably beaten me to the punchline. What was wrong with her? 

She's eaten something bad. Probably the leaves, which is a new one on us for her to eat.

That slow leak? The weird overly alert swaying? Staggering walk? Stomach cramps, more likely than not. I'm sure I'm not the only person who has been curled up on the bathroom floor wanting to die with indigestion before. It also explains her almost immediate recovery after being sick.

She checked out perfect. Temperature, spot on. That urine sample? Everything was absolutely normal, all in the ideal range. The only thing to comment was that she wasn't keen on having her stomach and bladder poked at. Cant say I blame her.

I relayed my concerns about my childhood dog to the vet and was assured that she was absolutely fine. And she has been fine. Missy is fed up of me checking all is dry (which it is), her appetite is good and she was chasing squirrels on her afternoon walk.

What a dog, I tell you!

Needless to say, its been a sofa day. Lots of cuddles and being cosy and warm whilst watching the rain. None of us have slept well, so all in all, its been a perfect sort of day to just chill out and doze listening to the rain over the sound of the radio. Its rare for us to just switch off from the world outside, to just appreciate the physical company of one another and say nothing, to enjoy the moment and the passing of time.

We should do it again, but, perhaps, without all the drama beforehand!