My furry Christmas wish

I hate going this long without blogging. A lot has happened since I signed off right before Thanksgiving and let me just sum it up like this:

The only thing I want for Christmas is a safe and happy family.

We took our third (and hopefully LAST) trip to the emergency vet in insanely the early hours of Wednesday morning. When an vet tells you that not getting your dog treatment would result in a 50/50 chance of serious complications, you pack up and go. And you pay any amount of money.

It should come as little surprise that Joey ate something he shouldn't. That's the plight of owning a beagle: No matter how diligent you are about keeping harmful food and substances away from your dog, where there's a will, there's a way.

We picked Joey up this afternoon after 48 hours on fluids to flush out his system to prevent toxins from entering his system and shutting down his kidneys.

This dog has given me so many tiny heart attacks. Last night we were confronted with feelings and fears that I will never be ready for. I'll do anything I can to prolong my years with this little guy that has SO MUCH life left.

And we're never buying raisins again.

Is it just me, or does Joey look not only adorable in this picture, but kind of smug? Like, "Yeah, I ate those raisins and I'd do it again! Drain your savings account, I don't even care." 

Welcome home, Joebizzles. Welcome home.