The situation with my girls isn't improving.

I don't handle emotional stress well.

It's hard to describe the relationship I have with my dogs, unless it's to another "dog person."  Horse people sort of get it, because that relationship is so atypical as well.  If my horse is my partner, my girls are my daughters.  People with kids don't get it, can't fathom that someone would love something with a shortened lifespan that they didn't push out themselves.  But think about it:  they are my first priority when I get up in the morning.  I set up my apartment, for while I'm gone, to meet their safety and entertainment needs: baby gates and a radio and a kong and toys.  The first thing I do when I get home, after greeting their smiling faces, is walk them.  I have them on special diets with additives for their respective ages and digestive needs.  The last thing I do at night is walk them.  Tell Scarlette to get her baby and let's go to bed.  Scarlette will take her baby for the night under the bed while Savannah will start arranging the dog beds next to me.  When I wake up, they'll be curled together on the dog beds and Scarlette will immediately pop up and start dancing around my feet.  Savannah is slower and takes her time stretching.

So where did my miserable story leave off?

I dropped them off at the emergency vets'.  They told me to call back around seven to see how the lab work went.  At this point, they'd been on the dextrose and their BGs had improved and the labs were WNL.  I was told to call back around seven the next night, to see if they had stabilized and could go home.  This was last night.  Instead of calling, being ever the optimist, the hubs and I headed over to the clinic with the leashes and big, stupid hopeful grins.  I was met with bad news:  BGs drop every time they go off the dextrose.  The second (24 hour) chem panel was WNL, but their BGs weren't stabilizing.  The vet (and I didn't even talk to a vet) wanted me to call at 11 pm to see if they could go home.  So we just visited.

It was strange to have them tell me things about my girls.  I told them that they wouldn't need to muzzle Scarlette, but something about the lack of my presence always results in her being muzzled.  That she was dog aggressive (no shit.. did I forget to mention that?).  That they were voracious eaters.

I called at 11 pm to see what the status was.  ..More of the same.  BGs still low.  Still eating, drinking, having BMs and urinating.  Vet wanted to keep them over night and transfer to my regular vet (rDVM) this morning.

I think "misery" describes it best.  I broke down last night, sobbing.  I had gone out yesterday afternoon and bought the girls tons of new toys and new ID tags.  And here's the kicker:  Saturday night, before all this mess, I'd had a dream that Scarlette died.  And Scarlette has been the bigger concern.

I'm just devastated.  It was torturous to sit in the waiting room in the emergency clinic, just waiting to take them to another cage, so they could undergo more tests and more stabs and more fluids.  And they were so happy to see me.  I'll post some details, when I get them.