This is a hard post to write, particularly because it's emotional for me. My little trouble maker Chewie got himself into quite a bit of trouble indeed, last Thursday morning when I woke up, before going to work he seemed a little off. He wouldn't eat a treat or any scrambled eggs, he didn't go outside when I opened the back door... but my mum insisted he was probably tired and so off to work I went.
He wasn't tired, in fact he was in a lot of trouble. Over the coming hours, emailing back and forth with my parents, they decided to be safe and take Chewie the vet. His blood tests came back normal, so they decided to X-ray his stomach, this came back showing his stomach was full of something soft & spongey. The next step was an endoscopy, they didn't want to make him throw it up as they weren't sure of the substance so this was the last step to avoid theatre... Chewie inevitably ended up in theatre and the following few hours are some of the worst of my life so far.
My parents rattled their brains to try and figure out what had happened, what could he have eaten. After speaking to the vet it turns out that on Wednesday morning the dogs had been fighting over a shower scrunch (not sure where they got it from), my dad got up and took it off them after maybe a minute or two when he came out the downstairs bathroom. It was ripped up but he assumed since they were fighting over it they'd just pulled it apart. We had no idea Chewie had eaten some of it.
Accidents happen, and Chewie while I write this is over a week post op and he's eating, drinking and even tottering / bouncing around the house again. Stretching his little legs. My fur baby has six stitches on his stomach and the mixture of anger, sadness and happiness I feel has been exhausting. The last few days I barely ate, slept or even looked after myself, I couldn't leave his side because I didn't want to not be there if anything happened. I realise it sounds like he's my kid but it's not dissimilar to parenting.
It's mad to think just a couple of months ago he was coming into my life. The bond I have with him now means the world to me, and if anything happens to him (I know eventually, when he is grey and old we will part ways), especially because he is still just a baby, it would be devastating.
The whole thing has cost a small fortune (until I hear back from the insurance), which has made me a little skint this month. My plans have gone out of the window making me feel a little lost. I'm sure in another week I will have sorted everything out. With the flat move, waiting on my flat deposit money, travel plans, freelance work and then this it's been one hell of a start to the month. I'm looking forward to getting back on track next week.
I've finally moved everything back home, which means I can officially spend all my time with him outside of work, when I'm not at Danny's or in the gym. Australia looks to be on hold for now (working on new dates as we speak) so that's a bummer, but it's more important he gets better. He's sleeping 50% of the time, but I'm not surprised by that. Hopefully this time next week he will bouncing around a little more but until then, he's a very spoilt pupper.
Go follow @chewie_the_woofie on instagram for updates on how he's recovering.
🍑 A B Y
Aby, 24. Northerner.