Oh, what a night!

Yesterday afternoon, Shasta vomited up what appeared to be the partially-digested bits of a fire pit – charcoal, ash, twigs and leaves, tinfoil, glass, and bones. Apparently, the previous tenants of our tentsite had buried their presumably meat-flavored trash in the ash of the fire circle and neither of us noticed Shasta sampling these delicacies in the morning.

Since he is a one-meal-a-day dog, and he was drinking water and seemed un-concerned with the vomit, we figured his body was doing what it was supposed to do, by expelling the junk.

Shortly after 11:00 p.m., Sarah leaned over the edge of the bed to say good-night to the already-sleeping Shasta, and could not rouse him. He was breathing but would not wake up. Joe used his 4G magic and found a 24-hour vet hospital nearby. We quickly broke camp and raced through the country roads (almost wiping out a family of three raccoons) and arrived at the hospital, where they were waiting with a crash cart for our unconscious dog…except, he was no longer unconscious…in fact, he was awake, wagging his tail, and ready to meet his new friends at the hospital. ??? Sarah is crediting his miraculous recovery to prayer – the vet could not say for sure what may have happened back at the campground. After a physical, some saline injections to combat potential dehydration, and a prescription for antacids, we piled back into the van and finished sleeping the rest of the night in the parking lot of the animal hospital.

GEO-QUIZ: Probably one of the most expensive places to have a dog emergency after-hours (even Martha Stewart would balk), which animal hospital took care of Shasta last night?