About 1:30 a.m. last Monday morning, I heard the jingle of Molly’s tags coming up the stairs at an unusually quick pace. She seemed to be moving all around the bedrooms, and by the time I woke up enough to get out of bed and check in on her, she was on my college boy’s bed, jumping down again to run and greet me. Molly sometimes comes upstairs during the night, but usually just to flop (or fwoomp, as we say) down on the rug in the computer room.

That night she was just so keyed up, it rang alarm bells for me. We went downstairs together and she just bolted for the back door, then into the yard to chew on some grass. Still trying to wake up (!), I realized that while upstairs she was licking her lips and making a funny little “urp urp” sound.I ran to my computer to look up symptoms of bloat, and as soon as I saw an anecdote on a Bernese Mountain Dog health website that mentioned “urp urp” sounds, I had made up my mind to go to the Animal Emergency Clinic.

I went to tell my husband I was concerned, and he said, “What’s bloat?” Aargh!

Needless to say, I didn’t wait for him to find out. Molly and I took off for the Emergency Clinic. I should have known there was nothing seriously wrong with her when she put her paws up on the counter to flirt with the technician. We went in to see the doctor, who told me he sees an average of two bloat cases a month. Molly, he said, just had an upset stomach.

At 3 am we were on our way home, Molly feeling better after an injection of pepsin, with instructions to call them or our vet if she didn’t eat this morning. I’m happy to report her breakfast dish was licked clean.

The bill:
Examination by the doctor $27
After-midnight fee $63
Injection $27
Total $117
Knowing Molly was okay: Priceless.

A note from Molly: “You forgot to tell them how pretty I looked prancing through the swampy black water at the new dog park the day before. And you didn’t tell them how I slurped it up! Delicious!”