Given my mood the last two days, I'd say that even though this adorable little sea lion weaner died within hours of his all-too-early-morning rescue, he's the highlight of my week. I retrieved him from behind a dumpster in the Embarcadero at 7:15 this morning. He'd been in the street earlier and was seen seizing, so I suspected he was suffering from domoic acid (in addition to emaciation). But then he released a bunch of runny black feces back at the site. Runny and black is bad, bad, bad and usually indicates some sort of internal bleeding. So I wasn't altogether surprised to find his noon feed canceled on account of death, but still I was sad. At least I got some pictures of him when he was still a bit perky and totally cute.On another semi-good note, OC's follow up enema was deemed unnecessary today. Apparently, because I caught his problem sooner than usual, he was able to get the job done without sedation. Too bad I starved him all night in preparation for surgery just in case. It was cute at first, all the begging for food, but it soon grew pathetic and frustrating for all involved. Anyway, I was also thrilled when my vet decided not to charge me for the recheck.
Now I'm off to the grocery store, I guess. It's getting too late for take out (Morro Bay rolls up the sidewalks at 8:30) and there's really nothing much in the cupboards. This time I hope I get all the items I desire. You'd think that wouldn't be too difficult, but last time I went shopping, I bought a peach pie only to discover it had turned to apple before I got it home.
Wish me luck...
2 comments:
Well, that is a sad sad tale. What a sweet lookin' lil' fellow. Hope your week takes a turn for the better, J. And glad OC was able to poop -- pooping is good. More than one enema, no fun at all.
-wend
Surprised you haven't written about Bob Barker, girlie.
I'm curious. Is there a connection between Bob Barker and poop? Or did I miss the segue?
Speaking of poop, I found one lone turd in the hall on my way to an early morning pee call. I think I know who deposited it, yet, I feel guilty pointing fingers. What if I point at the wrong species? Alas, I fear drooping little poop balls behind in one's sleep is another sign of aging. Is this what we have to look forward to?
I am sorry, also, to hear of your friends inability to recover. It must make rescuing sick animals that much harder to do on a regular basis. But how good to know there are hospice angels out in the world even for sick sea creatures. Bless you for the work you do. ME
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