Whew! I think we're finally done with puppy diarrhea.( I know. Not the most pleasant of topics.) But from what I understand, something a lot of folks go through with little ones. We were going crazy trying to wean Sully off of the bland (rice and eggs, or rice and chicken, or rice and ground beef) diet he was on. Every time we would try to get him back on normal puppy chow, the poor little guy was dashing outside to create another pile of goo. Turns out, it wasn't the food that was the issue. It was a UTI! His little system was so inflamed and irritated from the urinary tract infection, it was affecting his stools. The diagnosis of UTI certainly explained the constant trips outside, and the numerous accidents - and finally, piddling in the kennel. Now he's on a bland, prescription diet, (doesn't THAT sound appealing!) probiotics and antibiotics. UTI's are kind of hard to detect in puppies - I mean, they piddle all the time anyway! And, if they're "going" on grass, you can't see if it's bloody or odd looking. He wasn't licking himself (more than normal) and it didn't seem painful. Live and learn. (We had stool samples checked several time for parasites, another common cause of diarrhea.) It is such a relief to figure out the cause!
The neighbors, who already have me pegged as some kind of loony, think I've gone off the deep end. ("Uh oh. She's cheering and clapping - about puppy poop. Should we call someone?") ("And did you see what she's wearing? In public? What's up with her HAIR?!") Okay, I've pretty much lost all dignity. I appear in the front yard in my "jammies". Not designer, classy jammies. Purple plaid flannel pants and a tee shirt from some event. Whatever shoes I could get on as I raced out the front door, puppy in tow. My hair just gets that way when I sleep, okay?? I just hope and pray someone isn't out and about at that moment. But they always are. The guy that delivers the paper has given up talking to me. He greets me with a cheery "Good morning!" and I just mumble something unintelligible. Some woman walking her dog came over to meet Sully this morning. I told myself she wasn't dressed in her Sunday best, either. But at least her hair was all going in one direction. I think Sully will be learning to use the run in the back yard this weekend. He's not crazy about it. (See photo) But it's much more private, which will go far in repairing what's left of my pride.
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