Donación protegida
Abby is a 4 year-old black and white rescue dog. We think she’s a chihuahua/Jack Russell mix. Possibly dachshund, too. Shortly after we adopted her, I nicknamed her Fruit Bat because of her little black face and enormous ears. When it’s treat time, Fruit Bat makes astoundingly high vertical leaps as though her little stubby legs are spring loaded.
The other night during a walk, Fruit Bat grabbed something off the street. It crunched in her mouth. She appeared to drop it when I offered her a treat, so I thought we were okay.
A few days later on Friday, May 10, Angie woke me early. Fruit Bat was not quite right. She sat awkwardly in the corner of the dining room, panting and unable to move. No interest in a treat. Highly unusual for the world’s hungriest little dog.
Fearing the worst, we rushed her to CARES Emergecy Vet Hospital, about 30 minutes away. She trembled in Angie’s lap the whole ride.
She stayed at the hospital overnight. The next day the doctor reported that she bad diarrhea. Because she was so anxious at the hospital, and we missed her so terribly, we thought she might make a quicker recovery at home. We didn’t realize the diarrhea was involuntary and explosive but we did our best to keep her clean and dry. She intermittently cried out and writhed in pain. She still wasn’t walking, just dragging her rear legs in what seemed like an attempt to run away from pain we could not ease. It was heartbreaking.
I lost count of how many trips we made to and from the emergency hospital, the wrong assumptions, the false hope that we had a handle on her condition, fighting through the exhaustion of sleep deprivation and the tears of anxiety and helplessness.
Monday night.
A bad rash discovered at the hospital turned out to be even worse when we turned to our local vet. The doctor shaved Abbie’s shaggy rear to expose inflamed, raw-looking skin that spread up to the base of her tail.
She received more pain meds and antibiotics and treatment for the rash. We hoped this would bring Abby enough relief to sleep. We were delirious with fatigue and desperately needed rest. But Abby couldn’t stop crying and thrashing in Angie’s arms.
Seeing our dog suffer and feeling so helpless broke us down. Angie and I sobbed. Clearly, we could not manage this level of pain at home. I got us back to the hospital.
And it’s not over. Abby has remained in the hospital since Monday night. The rash has worsened.
Wednesday.
An MRI revealed a serious infection of cellulitis and the underlying tissue on her backend tail and rectum. Massively painful.
In less than a week, we have spent over $7,000 in vet bills trying to diagnose and treat our beloved dog. This experience is wiping us out emotionally and financially...and Abby Fruit Bat still isn’t out of the woods.
A few friends recommended we launch a crowd funding to help ease this unexpected financial burden. While it feels uncomfortable to ask for help, we are desperate to give our dog every chance to survive this ordeal. If you’re unable to contribute, we ask that you take a moment to say a little prayer or think positive, healing thoughts that Abby Fruit Bat will be okay.
Thank you.
Michael, Angie, and Phoebe (Abby’s doggy sister)
The other night during a walk, Fruit Bat grabbed something off the street. It crunched in her mouth. She appeared to drop it when I offered her a treat, so I thought we were okay.
A few days later on Friday, May 10, Angie woke me early. Fruit Bat was not quite right. She sat awkwardly in the corner of the dining room, panting and unable to move. No interest in a treat. Highly unusual for the world’s hungriest little dog.
Fearing the worst, we rushed her to CARES Emergecy Vet Hospital, about 30 minutes away. She trembled in Angie’s lap the whole ride.
She stayed at the hospital overnight. The next day the doctor reported that she bad diarrhea. Because she was so anxious at the hospital, and we missed her so terribly, we thought she might make a quicker recovery at home. We didn’t realize the diarrhea was involuntary and explosive but we did our best to keep her clean and dry. She intermittently cried out and writhed in pain. She still wasn’t walking, just dragging her rear legs in what seemed like an attempt to run away from pain we could not ease. It was heartbreaking.
I lost count of how many trips we made to and from the emergency hospital, the wrong assumptions, the false hope that we had a handle on her condition, fighting through the exhaustion of sleep deprivation and the tears of anxiety and helplessness.
Monday night.
A bad rash discovered at the hospital turned out to be even worse when we turned to our local vet. The doctor shaved Abbie’s shaggy rear to expose inflamed, raw-looking skin that spread up to the base of her tail.
She received more pain meds and antibiotics and treatment for the rash. We hoped this would bring Abby enough relief to sleep. We were delirious with fatigue and desperately needed rest. But Abby couldn’t stop crying and thrashing in Angie’s arms.
Seeing our dog suffer and feeling so helpless broke us down. Angie and I sobbed. Clearly, we could not manage this level of pain at home. I got us back to the hospital.
And it’s not over. Abby has remained in the hospital since Monday night. The rash has worsened.
Wednesday.
An MRI revealed a serious infection of cellulitis and the underlying tissue on her backend tail and rectum. Massively painful.
In less than a week, we have spent over $7,000 in vet bills trying to diagnose and treat our beloved dog. This experience is wiping us out emotionally and financially...and Abby Fruit Bat still isn’t out of the woods.
A few friends recommended we launch a crowd funding to help ease this unexpected financial burden. While it feels uncomfortable to ask for help, we are desperate to give our dog every chance to survive this ordeal. If you’re unable to contribute, we ask that you take a moment to say a little prayer or think positive, healing thoughts that Abby Fruit Bat will be okay.
Thank you.
Michael, Angie, and Phoebe (Abby’s doggy sister)
Organizador
Angela Cooper
Organizador
Wyncote, PA