Lil' Frankfurter, he of the inflammatory bowel disease?
Yeah. So, he was on antibiotics, and he gained a few ounces. And then he lost them. And he was looking horrible. And shaking all the time.
|I'm sick but I'm pretty.|
And then I was like, "Dude. I just lost a dachshund. I can't lose another one. Here, take all my money."
So, for the last six-ish weeks, Lil' Frank has been dining like a king on canned duck and canned pumpkin, four different probiotics (including one called "Digestive Slurry!"), and two meds. He has never been happier, as he is required to eat four times a day.
Also, since the vet told me that this dog was literally freezing, I have been free to buy him many fashionable shirts and coats. On clearance, of course. But still, I am That Lady.
Yesterday, we had a check-up. Lil' Frank is now rollin' at 6 pounds, 4 ounces. He's gained a pound. He no longer looks like a dachshund dressed as Skeletor for Halloween. He's interested in his toys. His poops are kind of normal-sized. He is a total stud.
The holistic vet leveled with me: "When you first brought this dog in, he was dying."
I tried to act all, "Oh, uh-huh," about that, but I was startled.
She went on. "I'm so, so pleased with his progress. Would you mind terribly if I wrote him up for a journal? Would you happen to have any 'before' pictures?"
At this point, I laughed. I take pics of my kids every day, so, yeah, I've got pictures.
|Fat, happy, and helping mama write.|
My Guy was a little less thrilled with my horrendous parenting, but ecstatic about the weight gain. Our 8-year-old now weighs almost as much as I did as a newborn. Hurray!