I wish I could figure out my body as easily as I could figure out my dog. I’ve lost a solid week of my life to unexplained and (in the pain dept.) unparalleled migraines!
Happy is easy. Last week I went to Target’s dollar section. I’m addicted, I know, bad. But they had all these cute X-mas dog toys so I picked up two. They were both going to go into Happy’s stocking—but it was kind of stuffed to the max with some other toys I’d picked up over the last few weeks. So I decided to give him one that afternoon to play with.
To say that Happy loved this toy is the world’s biggest understatement. This toy was his golden goose, his red Ferrarri, his Kate Spade. I’d never seen anything make him so Happy—or drive me so crazy. It was so LOUD and of course I had phone meetings and was dealing with Geico all day that day. I was planning on taking it away from him—but I just didn’t have the heart—until the next morning.
R.J had just taken him for his 7:30 walk—he runs upstairs to wake me up—jumps on my bed (and new satin comforter) with his little red squeaky toy, squeaking it and squeaking it—and proceeds to vomit kibble…everywhere.
So needless to say that in my haste of trying to wake myself up, clean up dog puke and give myself up to the idea that I was going to spend the morning taking my bedding into the dry cleaner—I left the squeaky red dog toy on my bathroom counter after I cleaned it off.
Fast forward to this week. I’ve gone over it again and again with my doctor, but we can’t figure out what’s causing the migraines. He finally decides to do some blood tests to see if my hormones are off and maybe are playing a part in the feeling of my brain being smashed around inside my skull. The results won’t be in for two days though.
I figured Happy was being particularly mopey this week because he hadn’t had as much play time as usual. I haven’t been able to take him to the park, or for extra-long walks because of the pain. I also figured he was being pissy because on Sunday I’d given him a SURPRISE bath. After that, anytime I turned on the shower he tucked tail and RAN downstairs to get away from any potential cleaning sprees.
So last night my mom came to pick him up so I could enjoy my pounding head in peace and he could enjoy her backyard.
This afternoon, my sister decided to take him on a play date with one of our friend’s husky puppies! It was a great opportunity for him to play and exercise—and for me to not have to do anything!
But when he came home? Despite reports of a great day, little dude still kind of had an attitude. Still slinking away from me whenever I sat down next to him. That was okay though, because I had a cranial sacral session this afternoon and my migraine FINALLY dissipated for the first time in days! My pain relief had me noticing the house (and mess) around me for the first time in days too.
It was then that I realized the squeaky toy was still on my bathroom counter.
Happy hadn’t even followed me upstairs, that’s how pissy he was.
So I went downstairs ,found him on the couch, and dropped his squeaky red toy next to his head: instant joyous poodle.
He looked at me, looked at the toy—and the tail just started wagging. He’s been running around the house squeaking, coming back to me and cuddling, and being his usual obnoxious high-energy self again.
Then I got a call from my doctor: we weren’t so lucky on our end. Blood tests showed no abnormal results and no reason for my torture-palooza. So what gives?
Some things you just can’t know.
Although I’d bet a lot of money I know who Happy is waiting for to walk through that door tonight…
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