A few short days ago on June 13th, I lost my best friend unexpectedly.
Wilko wasn’t a human, but my 13-year-old mini dachshund, who, up until the night of June 11th, had been bright-eyed and full of life and energy. He grew lethargic and ill and was vomiting. A visit to his vet on June 12th resulted in his receiving subcutaneous fluids, anti-vomiting medication, and a bland diet.
By the next morning, Wilko wasn’t eating or drinking and was very weak. My roommate took him to the local animal hospital where things grew worse and they tried to conduct an ultrasound, but in preparation, lost his tiny heartbeat.