Jamie went to the vet this morning for a check-up. It's been 10 days since they did the endoscopy and one week since the diagnosis of IBD. He got a gold star and (even better) I get to reduce his prednisone. Hurray! The poor guy is so jacked up he has not been himself. He pants, paces, can't settle and follows me around the house, staring at me with that "You will open the food canister and pour the entire contents on the floor NOW" look on his face.
But he's not vomiting, has wonderful poop (did I type that out loud?) and eats with enthusiasm. So guess living with a strung-out steroid junkie has been worth it. He'll go from 25 mg of pred twice a day to 25 mg once a day. If things are still good in two weeks, he'll go to 25 mg every other day.
It is possible he might be able to go off the pred entirely but it's equally possible he'll be on it for the rest of his life. I don't care one way or another. I just want him to be comfortable and feel good.
Just as I got to the clinic, it started freezing rain. WTF? THAT wasn't in the forecast. When we left the clinic, my windows were iced over but nothing was falling from the sky. The drive home was uneventful.
Phoenix and I have our first agility trial of the year this weekend, a 3-day in Davenport. I have to pack the van tonight, good thing I've kept a running list of things that need to go. We haven't trialed for about two months and it seems like all of our trial junk has migrated out of the van into the house to be washed or repaired or whatever and never made its way back to the van.