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Our cold and damp weather reminds me of cold winter days in south Texas.  Because of high humidity, a  mid-forty temperature ‘down there’ feels just as cold as below freezing temperatures do here in central Oklahoma.  This holds true even when a frigid wind whips down the plain.  But no matter where, I am chilled to the bone by a cold damp day.  

Today we took Max to a veterinary emergency clinic.  Laying on the cold floor of the waiting room, Max too was chilled to the bone.  His chills sent me out to the car to retrieve a comfy old afghan for Max to lay on.  Our mild-manner poodle boy has been listless and limp for the last thirty-six hours.  Just like a baby, the health of this particular dog goes down fast and usually, bounces back just as fast.  But not so this time.

Usually it’s me that makes the call that it’s time for the vet.  Even when raising children, my husband rarely thought the kids were sick enough to take to the pediatrician.  But today,  like a good wife, I planted the seed that it might be vet time for Max.  When I gave my husband a choice to wait or make the call, he chose to wait.  An hour later, I pulled out the seed a second time, this time leaving less room for choice.  In talking it over, we discovered  my husband had misunderstood me the first time;  he thought we were waiting for a call from our regular vet.  Lord have mercy.  Will my husband and I ever communicate well? 

The scary news on Max is that after blood and urine work, the on-call vet doesn’t know the source of Max’s illness.  What they do know is that Max is dehydrated and that the blood test seems to point to kidney disease.  An ultrasound may reveal the cause, but the doctor advised us to wait until Max is hydrated before running the test.  So we left our sad poodle boy to the experts for an overnight stay, to see if they can make Max all well again.

This dog of ours has faced and overcome so many health issues in his young life.  And I wonder, as my eyes tear up, if Max can fight off another claim on his precious life.  In the quiet of the waiting room, I noticed that my husband was no longer reading his book.  When I ask him to share his thoughts, I find that he too is trying to wrap his mind around the diagnosis called kidney disease and wondering where this will take us.  And Max. 

But no matter where, I am chilled to the bone at the scary words ‘kidney disease’ and the mere thought of losing this poodle boy of ours.  On this point, my husband and I are of one mind.  No words are needed.