Emma came home from the vet's at 5:30 tonight, having spent the day and most of yesterday hooked up with an IV. Judging by the jam-packed invoice, the vet spent the past two days testing her for everything under the sun and dosing her with various random remedies, but he never did figure out what was wrong with her, aside from the rather obvious dehydration issue.
Actually, I think he might have overlooked some demonic possession issues.
Emma was skittish but seemed better when we first got her home, but she has gotten pretty quiet as the evening has progressed. Now she is just sitting under chairs, looking unhappy, and I haven't seen her drink anything all evening. Ed gave her the Pepcid, but that hasn't perked her yet. And of course we didn't get a warranty from the vet -- would you know that the One time you might like an extended warranty, they don't offer one.
As soon as I sit down on the floor to take a picture, everyone piles on. The kids just Know that I want to take pictures of their feet, and Bo is convinced that no blog post is complete without his Amazing Nose. Which is why I rarely sit on the floor and take pictures, I guess.
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