charlie
Stuck on Hedgies
Miss Annabelle Oswald (who prefers to reply to her full name despite my attempts to call her Annie) was rescued from the SPCA just before Christmas. She was diagnosed with FLD, not determination of what caused her to stop eating except a small mass in her stomach which was not causing any blockage and fuzz (from her fleecy hedgie bag) in her teeth.
Update:
Everyone is on corduroy bags (they are all diggers so I'll feel better if they have more durable material) to see how that goes, though I'd never had a problem before. Miss Oswald is eating only a little bit of kibble daily but seems to love the regular syringe feedings. I have had no luck weaning her off of them. I'm probably being suckered but with the syringe her weight stays pretty steady. She's still as shy as ever though her face somes out once she latches on to her syringe.
I'm not sure how to describe the feeling one gets when a rescue or rehome (that perhaps did not come from a good place, and has perhaps not had a nice life) suddenly feels at home. I'm sure others on here are very familiar with the feeling. I think it is my favorite feeling these days. This morning I came in to a very dirty, disgusting and paw-printed purple wheel (well flying saucer thingy actually). It was the first time I've seen any evidence of Annie lifting her visor (at least I assume she must have) to do something that I'm guessing from the mess she enjoyed. I smiled the entire time I scrubbed that purple spaceship disk.
Update:
Everyone is on corduroy bags (they are all diggers so I'll feel better if they have more durable material) to see how that goes, though I'd never had a problem before. Miss Oswald is eating only a little bit of kibble daily but seems to love the regular syringe feedings. I have had no luck weaning her off of them. I'm probably being suckered but with the syringe her weight stays pretty steady. She's still as shy as ever though her face somes out once she latches on to her syringe.
I'm not sure how to describe the feeling one gets when a rescue or rehome (that perhaps did not come from a good place, and has perhaps not had a nice life) suddenly feels at home. I'm sure others on here are very familiar with the feeling. I think it is my favorite feeling these days. This morning I came in to a very dirty, disgusting and paw-printed purple wheel (well flying saucer thingy actually). It was the first time I've seen any evidence of Annie lifting her visor (at least I assume she must have) to do something that I'm guessing from the mess she enjoyed. I smiled the entire time I scrubbed that purple spaceship disk.