Just Breathe

Here's the thing with a dog's paws -- if you slice through that hard outer shell on the pad, the inside is like a gel that just wants to ooze out.  The longer the cut is left, the wider it gets, until the pad threatens to split apart.  So what appeared to be a rather minor cut after the injury, was worse by bedtime, and gaping this morning.  Luckily my vet was able to squeeze me in.  That's pretty much where luck ran out.  She shaved his foot, cleaned and manipulated the wound, all the while shaking her head and bemoaning had hard it was for pad wounds to heal.  And that he'd really done a number on his.

How long would it take? I dared to ask.  A couple of months, she admitted. That first sinking feeling hit my stomach.  Then there was infection to worry about.  If the cut would even stay closed.  Stitches tended to pull out of the hard shell.  And he'd have to come in every few days to have the bandaging changed.  Things were starting to go white. I felt woozy.  I think I'm going to faint, I told them.  Nothing to do with the injury to my poor pooch.  I've seen my share of blood and gore, attended some pretty nasty autopsies.  This was all about stress and I knew it.  How selfish does that make me sound?

I had to sit down, put a cold towel on my neck.  In two days I was leaving for a month, the kid just over two weeks after that.  Would the kennel even take him with an injury?  And if he needed the bandages changed how was that going to take place? Maybe I could find someone who could pick him up when needed, take him to the vet, and return him to the kennel.  I was starting to feel totally overwhelmed.

Okay, the vet decides, she's going to stitch the pad. But the freezing is going to hurt like hell going in.  With three of us holding him she started to administer the needles.  What a big tough trooper he was.  Stitched, bandaged, and ready to go with a five day supply of anti-inflammatories and two weeks worth of antibiotics.  And an appointment for the first bandage change.  With luck, the stitches and bandages could be removed in two weeks.  Within our window of opportunity, before kennel time.  Don't we deserve a little luck right about now?

I'm thinking back to two previous blog posts, the one about how I shouldn't look forward to things because something always seems to go wrong to take the edge off, and the one about karma.  Too prophetic maybe?

I've gone through many emotions today -- frustration, depression, anger.  I mean totally pissed off angry.  But I've called the kennel and they'll still take him if he's injured.  And the kid is more capable than I give her credit for. She grows up a little more every time I go away and she has to step up to the plate. She agreed -- and told me I should go away more.

So I'm starting to relax a little.  Letting the excitement build again because I can't change what happened.  Getting back to my usual mellow self.  Writing this has helped.

And worrying is like sitting in a rocking chair -- it gives you something to do but it doesn't get you anywhere.