From The East Wing, Me And My Mama Singing In The Rain, Mustina And The Body Snatchers

Greetings to all, and welcome new friends to the East Wing.

A couple weeks ago I kept looking forward to the weekend weather, every day the weather report kept saying just you wait till the weekend. I could hardly wait. After all its summer time, ‘cause it started Sunday the week before with putting up the flag up and all, and I wear shorts in the summer time.

It rained Wednesday, Thursday and Friday of that week. I wore my short paints in the rain on Friday when I took my mama to lunch at Richards of Toto. Mama laughed at me and told our server I was half naked. We got soaked in the rain. It’s fun to get soaked in the rain with your mama. My wish for the world is everybody gets soaked in the rain once every May with their Mama.

Come that Saturday Morning, I’m ready for a really great weather day. It starts out cloudy, not cold, but cool at 56° when I woke up. The weather is ok for shorts. Almost raining, but not quite, but almost. I only stayed at my office for a couple hours that Saturday, decided if it’s gona be a cloudy day, I’d go home and play with Pup Baby James. When I get home the Pup Baby was asleep, so was Gray Lady James as well as Sophia

It was easy to tell the girls were excited ‘bout me coming home early, each opened one eye and went back to sleep. But I did see Sophia grin a little bit. I don’t think she went back to sleep, maybe she just took a little cat nap. Now Pup Baby, Mustina, she snores, I’m telling ya, this little dog sometimes snores when she sleeps. When she does, I push on her side and she quits. I think Mustina’s snoring stems from her heart worm infestation from several years back. Don’t know if I told ya ‘bout the Pup Baby the body snatchers.

It all started as just routine part of Mustina’s semiannual check at the doggy doctor office where they all go twice a year. The routine included testing for heart worms. Having administered medication every month from 6 months forward to prevent heart worms, the thought never crossed my mind we’d ever have to deal with that Dog Angel of Death. We had to deal.

The blood sample was drawn and we sat in the lobby waiting our lab results me and the 2girldogs, both setting by my side like statues. The doctor came out, sat down, and placed her hand on the Pup Baby’s head and said “Bob, Mustina’s tested positive for heart worms, the Gray Lady’s fine, but not Mustina”. Talk ‘bout a sinking feeling in the bottom of your stomach. My first thought was, it can’t be, I’ve given her medication every month from six months on. The vet said sometimes it just don’t work. She went on to explain.

Heart Worm infestation is 100% fatal if left untreated. The treatment for heart worms is almost as deadly as the heart worms themselves. Many dogs die from the treatment alone. The treatment consists of weighing the dog, based on precise weight, calculate a lethal dose of arsenic. Inject ½ of the total dose into the dog. If the dog is alive exactly 24 hours later inject the other ½ of the arsenic.

The vet explained that if any of the dog’s body filters (liver, kidney, etc.) are not working at 100% efficiency, the dog will die before the second dose can be given. And so it was with that cloud of doom and despair gathering over our heads that I cradled the Pup Baby in my arms as she received ½ of her only chance for life.

They asked if I wanted to leave the Pup Baby at the office, as most people don’t take their pets home after that first shot. The Pup Baby came home with me. If Mustina was to die, she wouldn’t die confined to a wire cage in the still of the night. She would die in the East Wing with me at her side.

On the way home I couldn’t help but think how ironic it was that just a short one hour ago, we were on our way to the routine vet visit, having a great day, and now she’s’ maybe going home to die. By the time we got home I could detect a change in Mustina.

She didn’t jump out of the car when the door opened. She just carefully got down from the seat to the floor then to the ground, always before one leap, seat to the dirt. Not today. She slowly walked to the front door. I live in a house with lots of stairs, three levels of house with stairs everywhere. Mustina didn’t offer to go up the first set of stairs. She simply laid down in the floor of the West Wing. I picked her up and carried Mustina to her couch in the East Wing at the other end of the house. Within two hours I noticed a distinct change in her breathing. In two more hours she didn’t open her eyes, had very pronounced and labored breathing almost gasping for air, not panting like a tired dog, but more like an asthmatic attack in people.

The long night had begun. Sleep nor the thoughts of sleep come to the forefront when ya think your dog’s gona die that night. I sat by the Pup Baby, held her paw, and said her name. She ever so slightly wagged her tail and never opened her eyes. She knew I was there. I cried.

I prayed a lot that night, knowing that inside the Pup Baby the struggle of life and death was being waged. An unseen war of which I had no control, nor input into the decision making process. I’d been relegated to the spectator section, as God and Mustina worked it out. I prayed “God please don’t let my Pup Baby die, but if someone there needs a really good dog, she’s a really good dog”. I took some comfort in the thought that “all good dogs go to Heaven”, ‘cause she is a good dog.

Gray Lady James knew, she just knew there's something wrong, something terribly, terribly wrong with Mustina, her baby. As I carried Mustina to her couch in the East Wing, the Gray Lady got on the other end of the couch and laid beside her. The dogs had not laid on the same couch since Mustina was a little girl. They each have their own couch. That day and night the Gray Lady stayed by her baby and wouldn’t leave her side.

At the normal “let’s go out to pee before we go to sleep” time that evening, Mustina never moved, nor did the Lady. I sat with my 2girldogs throughout the night, wondering if at dawn would there be three or two on the couch. The silence of that long dark night was deafening as biological warfare exploded within the silence of the East Wing, in the still of the night.

Early morning in the East Wing is always a special treat. With sun so bright ya need sunglasses many morning. And so it was that morning of the first day in the war of the heart worms, the Pup Baby was still alive, barely breathing, but still alive. We had to be at the vets office at 4:15 PM, more than 10 hours away. We were not out of the woods on this first day, not by a long shot, but we were over half way through that dark woods. It seemed to me the sun rise gave us hope, at least me and the Gray Lady. Mustina’s eyes remained closed.

Shortly after sunrise the Gray Lady wanted to go outside, Mustina never opened her eyes or wagged her tail, she hardly breathed. I held my dog’s paw and prayed some more. Within minutes the Gray Lady wanted back inside, she went straight to the couch and licked her baby’s nose, and again laid down beside her. The mother had told her baby she was at her side.

It was close to noon that Mustina opened her eyes, weak but open eyes. She looked at me and we still didn’t know. I still held her paw and prayed. By 2:00 O’clock she seemed to breathe differently. I was sure she didn’t sound the same as last night, but was it improvement or the final death thralls played out before my eyes and ears, I didn’t know. Within minutes I had the answer. Mustina opened her eyes, looked at me and we knew she had won the first round. She licked the back on my hand while I held her paw. I hugged my dog, she wagged her tail a little harder this time. At 3:30 the three of us went back to the clinic.

At the vets office Mustina received the last ½ of her life or death. Again the offer to abandon her to spend the night in the clinic was turned down. We’d come too far, me and my 2girldogs to separate us now, not while the Pup Baby’s life still was hanging in the balance, we would not, we could not be separated. Again the vet explained that if during the past 24 hours Mustina’s kidneys and liver had not functioned perfectly, she could very well die within the next 12 hours. She said within 12 hours you’ll have the answer, we’ve done all that can be done for Mustina.

Mustina had walked to the car to come to the vet this afternoon. She and the Gray Lady walked back to the car. By the time we got home, Mustina was in a worse condition than the previous night. As I carried her to the East Wing I told myself it may be for the very last time I hold my Pup Baby alive in my arms.

The feeling of sadness was almost overbearing. The sadness seemed to engulf the sheer heart and soul of the East Wing. It was as if we had walked from the shadow of the valley of death, came ‘round the mountain and stepped back into the shadow, and it was cold. The Gray Lady assumed her spot beside her baby. The Lady on one side, me on the other. We were prepared to stay for however long it took. Once again I held her paw and prayed.

It started to rain that afternoon, late, and as the shades of nighttime closed around the East Wing, the thunder rolled while the lighting walked about. I chose not to turn on the lights. The East Wing would be illuminated by Gods Magic Light Show across the sky and by the yard lights. What would happen would happen in the darkness. With the Lady on one side and me on the other, if Mustina had to go, she would go in the presence of family. And so thusly we sat, awaiting the final outcome, the proclamation of the conqueror, the life or death of Pup Baby James.

It was shortly after 2:00 AM I felt Mustina lick the back of my hand. I got off the couch and turned up the soft lights of the East Wing, looked at Mustina and saw for the first time what she’d said when she’d just licked my hand. The Pup Baby smiled at me and said “I’ve won”.

We hugged, we talked, we petted, we cried, the three of us, me and my 2girldogs. Within an hour Mustina got off the couch, went over to her drinking dish and caught up on the last 36 hours of water drinking. And as my dog drank the essential element of life, it reminded me that I too was thirsty, hungry, sleepy unshaven, unkempt and probably smelly, but the Pup Baby was alive and drinking water. The world was good. God had smiled on the East Wing and brought Mustina home from the brink.

To this day Mustina shows some effects of that experience, she coughs a lot, which is indicative of the lingering effects of that illness. But to have survived two life endangering events, both the Attack of the Badger and The Invasion of the Body Snatchers, it’s the reason the girls at the vet clinic call Mustina“Wonder Dog”, and so she is, my Pup Baby James.

Thank you for sharing your last Sunday in May with us this evening in the East Wing, as usual we so much enjoy you company.

Stay safe in Afghanistan

From the East Wing, Me And My Mama Singing In The Rain, Mustina And The Body Snatchers

I wish you well,
BobbyRay