Surgery was on a Wednesday. The clinic wanted me to hold off on visiting on Thursday. Again on Friday.
On Friday, Henry the surgical tech, told me, “He’s turning his nose at wet food. What is something he doesn’t turn down?”
“Boiled eggs. He’s a sucker for them,” I replied.
On Friday, Henry told me that, “Roscoe is doing really well. He’s got a lot of bruising. He is eating. He is wagging his tail when I look at him. He is getting ‘really talkative,’ (code for he’s starting to whine and get cabin fever).”
On Saturday, again a talk with Henry, “We are working on getting him up and around, and it’s better every day. Be patient. One thing though. He’s not eating well. Even the eggs we got for him. He’ll eat the yolk, but spits out the whites.”
I answered with all I could think…. “Uh…. ground beef, rinsed; with rice? Or French fries. Maybe boiled Chicken,” I said, “but I doubt you have any of those lying around.”
“That’s okay. We’ll get something. If he’s still not eating, we’ll call you,” he said. And they did. They went to a local grocery store to pick up things they thought he would eat. There is a reason I’ve been going to this same vet for about 20 years, now.
Sunday, I got a call from the vet who originally saw Roscoe. “I’d like for you to come in and see him whenever you can. He is picky with his eating, and he’s too smart for us to give him his pills. We got him a rotisserie chicken, and he ate a little, until we tried putting his meds in it. Now he’s eating the chicken and spitting out the meds. Once he realizes we’ve put meds in something, he won’t eat it again. It is so bizarre. Maybe he’ll eat for you?”
“Can I come tonight?” I asked, with the enthusiasm of a six-year old awaiting Christmas morning.
“Come on up. We’re closed, but we’ll be here.”
We spent an hour together. Thirty minutes of the hour was spent spooning on the tile floor, after I noticed he was shivering a little. I’m pretty sure we almost fell asleep. I just knew it was only a matter of mere hours before he could come home….
He ate for me. Then I tried slipping him some antibiotics and pain pills. He looked at me like he was mafia, and I was the dumb schmuck that had tried to pull a fast one.
I understand Shakespeare’s words a little better, now that I’ve seen them in my dog’s eyes, “Et tu, Brute?”
(Sorry, bud. Just trying to help.)
🙂 Awww. So sweet. Glad you got to see him and he’s coming home soon. Cheese was my miracle pill popping food for MySweetTed. Good luck to you and Roscoe.
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Darling Roscoe, you have a awsome Dad! I think you and your sister know this!
I do hope you are home by now so that you can get cuddles in a much more comfortable environment for both you and your
Dad! Bless your big heart…
Wishing you all the very best in your recovery. You will be hopping back to your new normal self in no time at all. Just remember lots of rest in the first couple of weeks and as much chicken, steak and hot dogs as you want!
Rots of Ruv from Super Stu and his Pride of Kittens xxx
What a sweet picture!!! Has anybody tried pill pockets yet? He really looks good even though he is being stubborn eating. He will get this, some of the meds he has in his system might not be helping.
I had to scoop Hills A/D out of the can with my hand and feed Mitch at the hospital. He was being the same way lol.
He will be better when he is home too 🙂
Jackie and Huck
I had a heck of a time getting meds in my Cookie.
Ruined a lot of meds in the process.
I used Little meatballs I made and stcck the pills inside. I tries wrapping in American Cheese. I also make a no bake cheesecake and I was able to hide meds in a spoonful of that but yes she know there were meds most times and it was really a process. Once the appetite comes back in earnest you will NOT have a problem thoug!!
Something to try:
My Pele would do the same thing with pills. I tried the pill pockets, meats, cheese etc. She loved peanut butter, but would lick it’s peanut butter and spit out the pill. So, I started covering the pill in peanut butter and putting extra on my finger. She’d end up swallowing the pill in order to get the remaining peanut butter. I’m happy she got her pills, she’s happy she got extra peanut butter, and no Shakespearean looks of betrayal. Win-win.