Pizza Pizza

Today was one of those crappy days. It started off crappy, and it's ending crappy.

See, Livie woke up this morning, crying. She had a fever, a cold, and was just generally very unhappy.

While children's ibuprofen seemed to take the edge off her malaise, she still wasn't 100%. By the time Daddy got home around 5 PM, the ibuprofen had worn off, and she was back to being a very unhappy 4-year-old.

Well, by this time, we'd called the pediatrician's office to see what we needed to do. The nurse had us come in right away. Good thing they were opened until 7 PM today, right?

Guess what? On our way out the door, I saw that I had a text message. It was from my mom, stating that the family's Pembroke Welsh Corgi, Caesar, had died. I was shocked!

But I didn't have time to dwell on it because we had to hurry up and get to the pediatrician's office - the lab closed at 6:45 PM, and we needed to get a urine sample from Livie.

When we got there and Livie's pediatrician came in to check her out, we found out Liv has an ear infection. No fun!

And then she had to pee in a cup - normally something she finds to be very funny - and fun. Not today.

She has a UTI.

No wonder she's been miserable today. 

So on the way back, I called my mom to see what was up with Caesar. But she wouldn't talk to me, due to sadness. I tried my dad, who ended up telling me what had happened.

Bad, sad news. Apparently Caesar had gone into shock today, and when they got him to the vet's office, the doc thought Caesar had some sort of internal bleed. And according to my dad, the vet said Caesar "wasn't salvageable" and was put down.

I was somehow able to cry silently, thereby avoiding Livie's probing questions. However, my tears clung to my eyelashes, making my vision blurry. Not a good thing when you're driving, especially at night. So I wiped my eyes, and continued on.

But we had to get to the pharmacy to get her antibiotics. I was gonna go through the drive-thru, but Liv wanted to go in. Of course, that meant I had to face the pharmacist face-to-face, with red, swollen, teary eyes which gave me away, regardless of how hard I tried to sound cheery.

Ah, well. Maybe he thought I had a cold.

Anyway, we got back, and I immediately ran down to the guest bathroom where I burst into tears, and listened to my sobs actually echoing in the bathroom.

The funny thing is that I suddenly thought of a quote from the movie Gladiator: "I knew a man who once said, 'Death smiles at us all.' . . . All a man can do is smile back." Okay, so what I actually thought was, "All a dog can do is smile back."

Isn't it surprising, sometimes, what the mind comes up with upon hearing sad news?

So now, it's about half an hour past Livie's bedtime, and she's downstairs watching a movie while I type away on the computer. I really need to get her to bed. The last thing she needs while sick is for me to allow her to stay up late.

She still doesn't know about Caesar, though. I have to think of a way to tell her, but I don't want to do it now, not before bedtime. Hopefully I can think of a way to tell her tomorrow. Or before we head back to my parents' house, that house that now lacks our dear 4-legged companion.

But, first thing's first. Gotta get her to bed.

And let's start the clock - you know, because "time heals all wounds" and all.

Now, here are a couple photos of dear Caesar, whom I sometimes called Pizza Pizza (you know, like those old Li'l Caesar's pizza commercials). Or sometimes I'd call him Old Man, because he'd turned into one as the years went on.

This was taken earlier this year. He was on the patio out in front of my parents' house.

Here is Livie as she poses with Caesar over Thanksgiving weekend 2008.

She sometimes called him Sar-Sar. He loved her, and loved sitting next to her chair as she ate meals, because we all know how little kids accidentally drop food on the floor as they eat, right?

Sleep tight, Caesar. I'm so glad you're not in pain any more. Now, go run off and frolic with Foxy. And eat all the treats you want.

However, I miss you, old man.