THE KENNEL is an important cog in the machine that keeps things running here right now. I must drop the dog every Sunday so we can be in Columbus bright and early Monday morning. Must.
The kennel owner and staff have taken me on as a cause, I think. They know Nick well, call him by name on sight. He goes right to them. No shaking. No hesitation. And I think they aren’t charging me enough. I’ve questioned it twice. They keep telling me it’s the right amount.
Six weeks down, three to go. No problems. Then I got the call.
Wednesday, 6 PM. The kennel owner said he had about 20 clients down with cough and he was going to have to shut down until the 30th. By then, though, Nick was coughing and I’d already made a vet appointment. The vet’s office told me not to bring the dog inside, but to call from the parking lot when I arrive and the vet would come out and examine him. This was my first clue a problem was developing.
Turns out the dog has a virus, likely acquired at the kennel.
The GOOD news: With a little medication and a lot of TLC he’ll be fine in 2-3 weeks.
The BAD news: He’s on a 30-day quarantine. Even if our kennel was open, he can’t go. And he can’t be taken elsewhere. The only solution is to find someone who can stop in a few times while we’re gone each trip, but it can’t be someone with a dog at home. We have not yet found that person. I’m working on it.
My job today: Get over the fact that I have stayed home with a sick dog and allowed the person with cancer to travel on by himself. It was a joint decision, but still.