Missing Mulligan

On Saturday night we stayed home. The last time we stayed home on Saturday night? If you forced me I would guess - maybe 2003.

Our boy had gone into the hospital that day.

On Sunday we slept, almost all day trying not to think about what happened Saturday. I watched the USA vs. Canada hockey game Sunday evening and tried to be my usual animated, yelling at the screen self. On one particular play I shouted YES,YES,YES and raised my arms in exaltation. Quickly I realized that I would need to find our boy who doesn't like it at all when I yell at the tv. I sought him out, to quiet and comfort him and tell him that Daddy was only yelling at the hockey players and not him at all.

He was not there. Still in the hospital.

When I went to bed Sunday night my side of the bed was not all warmed up for me as it usually is by my boy who sleeps there until I come to bed.

As I slid under the covers I muffled myself so Netter could not hear me crying for my boy.

Monday morning I woke up and answered the phone, spoke for a few minutes, hung up and rolled over tapping his pillow for him to come and comfort me and snuggle until I had to get up.

He did not come. The phone call was with the vet. Our boy was still in the hospital.

On Tuesday we visited the hospital and our boy seemed much better. He wanted to come home. I could tell by the way he acted when I walked him, and after I walked him when he pouted because we had gone back inside and not to the car. I was strangely encouraged by this, and hopeful that we would be able to bring him home on Wednesday.

And we were...

My ladies picked him up while I was at work on Wednesday evening and he was waiting for me when I got home. I spent almost half an hour on my knees saying hello to him, enjoying his kisses, stroking his fur and telling him how very glad I was that he was there with us.

We made a quick trip to the store to fill his prescriptions and get supplies to help us care for him and when we got home we got to say hello all over again.

Then bed time came.

He wouldn't sleep with Mommy as he usually does, but instead wanted to be with me in my office. Slowly he crawled into his chair, and nodded off, his breathing heavy and loud as it had never been before. I watched him intently, afraid to take my eyes off him in case he needed something, some more attention.

The few times I turned to look at my computer I could not find focus and quickly turned back to see that he was okay. Two of his big puppy dog legs dangled from the chair as they never had before and I wondered how on earth he could possibly be comfortable.

Then he moved to the floor, stretching out half on the tile, half on the carpet lying under a window which apparently lacks sufficient insulation because I could feel the cool air flowing around his body. I supposed that if I had 70 pounds of furry body I might want to feel cool as I recovered too so I gently petted him and watched him drift off to sleep, his body twitching, legs jumping in the tell tale sign of good puppy dog sleep that I'm sure he hadn't had in at least a few days.

After a short while he ventured upstairs to sleep outside my oldest daughter's bedroom door in the far corner of the hallway. I was concerned at first until he groaned when I turned on the light and I realized that he was just trying to improve his sleeping conditions by adding some darkness.

Later, he moved to sleep in our bathroom. I know he loves the cool tile there, and it's not too far away from Mommy so I patted him on his back and urged him back to sleep.

This morning I woke earlier than usual for a Thursday and went downstairs to help give him the first of his daily medicines. It seemed odd to be waking to do this. My boy is only (just short of) five. I feel like he should be much older before we start all this. We got all the medicine in him and I ventured back to bed knowing that Netter would leave him with me when she left for work. He jumped into bed with me and slept for the hour or so we had left.

Before I left for work I took my boy outside. We have to walk him on a leash even in our fenced in backyard because he can't over exert himself. He doesn't seem to want to do that anyway.

As we walked he stopped and there again was the odd colored urine that had caused our boy to head to the hospital in the first place. Maybe not as red as last week, but definitely not ordinary.

Netter will be heading home to him at noon. As I write this that's only a few minutes away. He's due to go to the vet for some tests at 12:30 and I am worried about what the results will be.

The one thing the vet told us when she first saw Mulligan James last Saturday was that his affliction, IMHA would put us on a roller coaster like we'd never known.

She was right.

I'm very worried about my boy. I'm trying to act normal. I'm trying to get through the work day.

I just can't stop thinking about my boy.