I woke up New Year’s Day feeling like this year would be a good one. I was in a great mood (with no hangover in sight thanks to our very mellow New Year’s Eve at home) as I bounced down the stairs eager for a cup of coffee and a quiet Friday taking down Christmas decor to discover to Russell throwing up, shaking, and urine that looked like straight blood. Getting worked up to the point of getting sick isn’t uncommon for him following a lot of ruckus, and New Year’s Eve around our neighborhood was full of ruckus (ugh, airBnBs.) but the blood had me on high alert and he was so lethargic and clearly not comfortable.
I woke Tate up and we spent the next hour tag-teaming to call nearly every pet hospital in the city as well as some as far as Columbus we found out every one had a 4-6 hour wait. I’m not sure if it was the fact it was New Years Day or covid staffing issues but it was absolutely crazy.
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