The Morning After

Well, this week mama brought me to "that" place again. That place where there are lots of dogs and cats that don't look happy, has lines of cages, and lots of people in scrubs. They call it a Vet Specialty Center. I call it a hospital.

Mama brought me in on Monday afternoon and LEFT ME!. They gave me something horrible to make me spend most of the night pooping. Fun. Yeah. Right.
Yesterday I don't remember much. I remember waking up and not being fed. I remember being brought into some room. Next thing I knew I was back in my cage feeling groggy and not very good at all. Later last evening mama came back and took me home.

She told me the vet had to do a special test called an endoscope. I wish she hadn't told me that what they did during the time I can't remember was stick some "scope" down my throat and up my butt to get something called "biopsies" of my intestines. She says that they had to do that to find out why I always have diarrhea if I'm not on meds. They should know the reason by the end of the week, she said, but they think I have something called Inflammatory Bowel Disease. I don't really know what that means, but mama says if it is that it's treatable and I should stop pooping all the time.

When I got home last night I did eat a little bit, and slept a lot. Mama says that it was about 3:30 in the morning when I was up and playful, showing signs of my normal self again. Today I feel normal. Take a look. Don't I look normal?