The old saw has it that bad luck comes in threes, and our week-long trip to the coast last summer seemed to prove that true. First, the sump pump died at our house, delaying our departure for the oceanside cottage that Liz and I rent every year. Once there, we snapped off a car mirror while removing a kayak from the roof of the car. A couple of days later, we locked ourselves out of the cottage.
So last Saturday, we came home from this year’s excursion praising our good fortune. Absolutely nothing went wrong during last week’s seaside escape, suggesting that the vacation gremlins had abandoned us in search of new victims.
Not so fast, pal.
Pulling to a stop in the driveway, we unlocked the front door to the house, put the dogs inside and began unpacking the cars. Aquinnah, our chocolate lab, plopped himself down in the living room, but Martha, our hyperactive pit bull/lab mix, ran upstairs at warp speed.
When Liz called Martha a few minutes later, the nearly three-year-old pup dragged herself downstairs, as if she was either feeling guilty or simply not feeling well. Heading upstairs, Liz found that Martha had left her calling card in the bedroom, which she never does. So we figured she knew she had done wrong, which explained the hangdog look.
But as I continued to unload luggage from the cars, Liz gave Martha a closer look, because she was obsessively pawing at her head. Martha’s normally smooth, black face was all wrinkled. Moments later, the wrinkles were replaced by large welts along both cheeks, above her eyes and on one leg.
Figuring that Martha had been bitten by a bug, Liz placed ice on the welts. We thought we’d wait a while to see what happened, but then we got to thinking. What if the allergic reaction got worse? What if the swelling spread to the rest of her body, or it morphed into shock?
Our regular vet doesn't have office hours on Saturdays and the closest emergency clinic for animals is 30 miles away, so if Martha was going to see a doc anytime soon, we had to hit the road pronto. We piled both dogs into the car (Aquinnah would have been upset if the rest of us had disappeared without him) and headed down the highway to the ER.
There was a long wait once we arrived. By the time Martha saw a vet, the swelling had subsided, but he put her on Benadryl for a few days. Relieved and exhausted, we scared up some water for the dogs, grabbed a late lunch and headed home. Our vacation memories were fading fast, thanks to the mini-crisis that closed the book on this year's getaway.
So last Saturday, we came home from this year’s excursion praising our good fortune. Absolutely nothing went wrong during last week’s seaside escape, suggesting that the vacation gremlins had abandoned us in search of new victims.
Not so fast, pal.
Pulling to a stop in the driveway, we unlocked the front door to the house, put the dogs inside and began unpacking the cars. Aquinnah, our chocolate lab, plopped himself down in the living room, but Martha, our hyperactive pit bull/lab mix, ran upstairs at warp speed.
When Liz called Martha a few minutes later, the nearly three-year-old pup dragged herself downstairs, as if she was either feeling guilty or simply not feeling well. Heading upstairs, Liz found that Martha had left her calling card in the bedroom, which she never does. So we figured she knew she had done wrong, which explained the hangdog look.
But as I continued to unload luggage from the cars, Liz gave Martha a closer look, because she was obsessively pawing at her head. Martha’s normally smooth, black face was all wrinkled. Moments later, the wrinkles were replaced by large welts along both cheeks, above her eyes and on one leg.
Figuring that Martha had been bitten by a bug, Liz placed ice on the welts. We thought we’d wait a while to see what happened, but then we got to thinking. What if the allergic reaction got worse? What if the swelling spread to the rest of her body, or it morphed into shock?
Our regular vet doesn't have office hours on Saturdays and the closest emergency clinic for animals is 30 miles away, so if Martha was going to see a doc anytime soon, we had to hit the road pronto. We piled both dogs into the car (Aquinnah would have been upset if the rest of us had disappeared without him) and headed down the highway to the ER.
There was a long wait once we arrived. By the time Martha saw a vet, the swelling had subsided, but he put her on Benadryl for a few days. Relieved and exhausted, we scared up some water for the dogs, grabbed a late lunch and headed home. Our vacation memories were fading fast, thanks to the mini-crisis that closed the book on this year's getaway.
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| Martha (sans wrinkles and welts) |
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