At the vets office I got an excellent vet this time. Straight talk, good info, no guilt, kindness. She took an x-ray. Blockage. By this time it was too late to get surgery there. My choice was to take Biggie to the very expensive emergency vet or wait until tomorrow morning. The wait was not without dangers. They contacted the emergency vet they liked the best and the folks said they could do it tonight. So I decided to go ahead.
We left the regular vet's and drove up to the emergency vet's. The emergency vet was way the fuck north of Seattle. But I had plenty of time to look them up on my phone and they have an office a half mile from where I was. I asked why I was going all the way to their other office and was assured the trip was worth it. "Their downtown office if often understaffed," she said politely but with clear meaning. So off we went.
The place is huge and bright at the people there were terrific. The wait was long. At the regular vet's they had given Biggie a bunch of fluids so he was no longer really lethargic and, was pretty perky and pissed.
And, it's very expensive so they were very careful to ensure I understood that and could/would pay. The actual list of charges was interesting. Line by line, nothing seemed unreasonable really. But the total... arugh. They give you a high end and a low end and they collect the low end amount upfront. I paid $4000 for my first new car. I paid $4600 tonight. But, in fairness, the new car was in 1971 and while cute was not as sweet as Biggie.
They will call me tonight when he gets out of surgery. He will have stitches an a cone for 2 week with instructions to limit his physical activity. I have no idea how that's going to work.
The risk of infection is good and his maybe (but didn't they say no) leukemia could make that worse. If all goes well, he may come home tomorrow.
As I was leaving tonight, the very sweet woman at the front desk said for me to call her anytime at all for an update. If you wake up at 3 am and want to know, call me. BUT experience tells me that no news is good news tonight.
The Smalls was out of his mind by the time I opened the door. He was also out of wet food. He has food new and is ok, so far, with just me.
Fingers and toes and everything else crossed. Hopefully soon I'll be trying to figure out how to slow that guy with the Cone Of Shame down and keep him quiet for two weeks.