At 4 freaking AM, I was awakened by the sound of a little dog breathing in distress - rapid, shallow respiration, not like her relaxed, deep, hibernating bear snores. I thought she was dreaming, but it went on and on, and I became concerned. I got up with her at 4:30 - all she wanted to do was cuddle on the couch. Refused to eat (and if a Boston doesn't follow you to the kitchen, call 911). I was worried.
But she was willing to get up and expressed interest in going out, so we went for a group walk - both dogs at the same time. This worked out very well - they are evenly matched and good walkers, and other than the juggling of the poop bags and leashes, it was no harder than walking one dog. She seemed fine and pooped normally, and kept up on the walk as if nothing was wrong. (Sorry knitters, this is often a dog blog, and dog people discuss poop. I should signal when I'm going to say something about knitting.)
Anyway, she wouldn't eat breakfast and was breathing like she was in distress, so I was prepared to take her to the vet. I had nightmare visions of part of a chewie lodged in her intestinal tract in some freak accident, and requiring emergency surgery on a holiday. But that fear was not borne out by evidence - she'd pooped normally and didn't seem to have any abdominal tenderness. She just didn't feel well. That was obvious.
I adopted the wait and see plan, and before I pushed the panic button and rushed her in demanding x-rays, she started seeming a bit perkier. So I waited a little longer. By noon, the "crisis" was over, and I realized that I have a little drama queen. I'm guessing she had a bit of a tummyache, because yesterday she chewed a digestible chewie for hours with great enthusiasm, and though they are digestible, it's not like normal food. As my daughter said, that's the equivalent of a human who never eats fast food gorging on a Supersized Bellybuster. It gave her indigestion in the middle of the night, and she was so sad.
She's completely back to normal now, and I'm glad I kept my finger off the panic button - but boy, that's a tough call to make when you have a teeny little dog in distress. A new little teeny dog you haven't even lived with for a week yet. But she's perfectly fine now. It was just a bellyache.
I, however, am pretty much ragged out - I went to sleep late and was awakened at FOUR O'CLOCK in the MORNING by a dog gasping like she was in agony, followed by hours of wondering what to do, and OMG, of course my brain and the internet took me to the worst case scenario of Emergency Surgery!!!!
And it does make me think about how hard it is to be a parent now - I'm glad I raised my kids before the internet was ready to tell me that every minor thing was Potentially Life Threatening! OMG!!!