Let me start from the beginning. A visit from Dr. Steve’s office brought news I call the good, the bad and the ugly. Good I’ve lost weight, which Dr. Steve says now puts me in the normal range for a dog my size 77 pounds. But bad I have a tumor on my back leg and ugly need surgery to have it removed and will miss a morning meal. The bad and ugly part worried me a lot, but lucky for me the night before my neighbor stopped over to cheer me up. She brought what Mrs. S called a presurgery gift-a large milkbone (my favorite treat) for a late evening snack so missing breakfast the day of surgery wouldn’t seem so bad.
On the day of surgery, my weigh-in was the same as a few weeks ago. I was real good and stood still while Dr. Steve’s assistant checked me all over. But once I got the okay for surgery, let me tell you, I was nervous. My tail was between my legs. Mrs. S seemed real sad to leave. I wished I could have gone with her. After that I did not remember a thing. Later, when Dr. Steve showed Mr. C and Mrs. S surgery pictures, I had to close my eyes. The pictures looked bad to me. But the good news is I made it through and the tumor was benign, whatever that means. Dr. Steve even wrote fantastic on one of the lab results papers..
Now I have six stitches and my leg is all wrapped up. Guess I did not listen to the part Mrs. S read from the sheet on our ride home…for the next 7 days restrict activity and do not encourage playing. Please keep her inside the next day or two to monitor her recovery. Please feed Bella half her regular ration of food this evening.
Well let me tell you, I wasted no time when we got back home. I headed straight for my food bowl. I had not lost my appetite!
So what do you think of the color of my first leg wrap? I managed to get lots of attention from everyone who wondered what happened to my leg.
Mr. C and Mrs. S seemed to lose their patience with me the next first few days after the surgery. Since I wasn’t tired with all this resting stuff I was supposed to do every night around 2:00 AM, I’d wake them up. I wanted to go outside to either check on wildlife, pee, poop, or just sit in the grass tethered, stare out at the night sky and into woods. One morning, around 5:00 AM, Mrs. S let me out but then she accidentally locked us outside. We had a hard time waking Mr. C up to open the door for us. Mrs. S blames me.
Finally the highly anticipated day since surgery arrived. My leg got “unwrapped”. But at that given moment when Mr. C unwrapped the bandage my OCD kicked into overdrive. I could not stop licking the stitches and my itchy leg. All day Mr. C and Mrs. S kept me under close supervision. But when nighttime came around, I was getting sick of hearing “Bella, stop licking!” These words rang out through the night. I don’t think Mr. C and Mrs. S slept well. By morning I heard them say my OCD behavior was out of control. Mr. C made a visit to the vet. My life took a turn for the worse when he came back with the dreaded cone of shame. I was forced to wear it that night.
Now I ask you, how did they expect me to sleep with this stupid cone on? I tried my best to paw it off. I whimpered, whined, paced the floor and pawed at their bed. But Mr. C was firm. The cone would remain. I guess Mrs. S had enough of my antics. Around 1:30 AM she slammed the door and went somewhere else to sleep. I was exhausted the next day. I had very little sleep. After two nights of cone wearing, Mr. C had enough and told me I did not have to wear it. Hallelujah!
On day 10, we made a return visit to the vet. The good news is I lost another pound but there’s some bad news. I had hoped Mr. C and Dr. Steve wouldn’t notice what I had done. When Dr. Steve looked at my stitches for removal he and Mr.C were quite surprised as they were gone. Seems I had been left unattended the day before and just couldn’t help myself with excessive licking. Didn’t they know I just wanted to be helpful, save Mr. C a return trip to the vet and some money? No one was amused. Dr. Steve rewrapped my leg again now with a little white sock and some sticky tape.
During the night I worked real hard to chew a hole in the little white sock so I could reach my leg to lick. Since then I have been through two more socks, one Ace bandage and now back to the dreaded cone of shame.
I’ve been told until I get my OCD behavior under control the cone of shame remains. I think Mr. C really means business. Today he even duct taped my ace bandage on. OUCH!