The prairie rattler wot bit him, otoh, had a rather abrupt encounter with a crescent wrench. [Thanks, Tole. I owe ya.]
No, Praline didn't get to play with the carcass. I wanted him skint so I could freeze the meat to feed to Chuy later, but he was too small to properly hide. Oh well.
Chuy loves chewing on sticks. This stick bit back. Caught him on the back of his right front leg just above that big thumby pad. During the drive to the vet, he was in discomfort and his leg swelled, but not as much as I expected. A gallant local fellow went with and held Chuy as I drove. Hopefully the pup didn't get a very big dose. Thankfully, I had new tires on LouLou and I hauled ass into town, a local good Samaritan having called ahead to the emergency vet clinic. (Thank you so much, Elsewhere PhD.)
Got him to the semi-big-city within 40 minutes, and the vet presented me with three options. I could do an antibiotic thingie and take him home and wait it out, see what happened. Or I could spend a bit of a chunk on a treatment with a fair success rate. Then there was the (ghastly expensive) anti-venom and hospitalization route. The anti-venom shot alone is $500, payable up front with the promise of more evil to vent spleen on my bottom line.
I figure as long as I have stuff to hawk, I'm not going to spare a penny if it may mean saving my furboy. I'm anxious and worried, and I'm having the same symptoms as before I came down with pneumonia. Goody. Anyway, at least I got myself on antibiotics, too. This weekend, though, I need some rest.
First thing tomorrow, peasants have promised to arrive with torches and pitchforks, and there will be a rattlesnake reckoning about this place.
Will get a post up tomorrow as soon as I can to let you know the pup is okay. Saturday, Miss Praline is getting the rattlesnake vaccine, though, let me tell you.
Will post again as soon as I have news. I appreciate all of you keeping your paws crossed for my little Chuy.