Home Sweet Home

I am home.  I am a tripod.  I hurt, and I am sleepy.  I have my couch back, and I have NO CONE.  That is all.

Goodnight…

What, Mom?  Really?  She says that’s not good enough.  That I have to provide details because a lot of people are nervous about their dog’s first day home, and if they see how well I am doing, maybe they won’t be.

So I finished my surgery around noon today, and it went well.  Mom had to take one of my siblings up real quick to get checked out and Dr. Aaron said he’d check on me and see if I could go home.

I walked on my own power across the slippery tile floor to the room Mom was in.  I saw Mom, and though I was groggy and ouchy, I had many many tail wags for her and my eldest boy.  I walked to the counter while she handled my bill…and laid down on the floor to rest while I waited.

I made it a hundred feet or so across the drive, the gravel, and to the back driver’s side of the truck, and that was it, no more.  So Mom picked me up and put me inside.  It didn’t take me but a few seconds to figure out how to lie down.  I snoozed to the gas station, the grocery store, and all the way home.  These pain meds are really something.

At home, it was a bit of a chore figuring out how to get up from lying on a backseat.  I cried a bit so eldest boy sat with me while Mom took some stuff inside.  Then Mom helped me out.  There was no avoiding lifting me out, or putting pressure on my incision–and that hurt!  A lot!  But once I was on the ground, we were okay.

It’s about 100 feet from the truck to the water bowl in the kitchen.  I made it on my own, but I did have to stop twice and rest.  I almost almost took a nose dive or two, but managed to keep that from happening.  It’s really tiresome making my muscles work this way, and they shake a bit when I do stop and rest.

I made it to the kitchen on the third try and tanked up.  The second time I lost my balance and face-planted in the water bowl.  But that’s okay.  No harm to anything but my pride.  At that point though, man, I needed a nap.  So I sacked out on the carpet runner in the kitchen while my eldest boy made brownies.

My brother and sister dogs don’t really care about my missing leg… except for that pesky Chance, who thinks he is my nursemaid now.  I have made it clear, I hope, to him I don’t want, or need, a nursemaid.  But he keeps trying to sneak over and tend my stitches with a few licks.  (Keep it up, pest, and you can wear the cone!)

With Chance bugging me on the kitchen floor, Mom decided I should go nap on my couch.  I walked all the way there, and even mostly put myself on it.  That’s where I am now, and where I intend to stay for a while.

And every time I see Mom, I thump my tail hard.  I hadn’t wagged like that in a good week.

So… don’t worry about your dog’s first day. I’m doing just fine, and so will he or she.  Did I say this pain med was great?

Here’s a beauty shot.  (Note, Dr. Aaron said I woke up really fast from the anesthetic, and they didn’t want to scrub on me too much while I was awake, so I have a few leftover stains still.)

1st-night-home


Note from Mom:

Yes, it really did go that well.  I can tell Daisy is sore and tired, but her attitude is super.  She isn’t moping, she isn’t depressed.  She hasn’t wagged her tail this much since her injury started draining.  To give an idea of how bad it was, techs are pretty familiar with a lot of things, particularly The World’s Greatest Tech.  Even she said she had to summon all her fortitude to tolerate the stinkiness of Daisy’s lump.  I’m so glad that smell is gone and even knowing Daisy is sore, I know I did this FOR her, not TO her.  And I do not regret it at all.

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