Katy’s home!

Picked her up this afternoon on my lunch break and she was SO happy to see me!  She came hopping down the hall, so precious.  The bruising is pretty extreme, looks like someone spilled grape juice all over her chest, wow.  But I’m told it will go away, we have to ice it down 3 times a day.  Kinda reminds me of having my wisdom teeth pulled; my jaw was pretty purple but with ice and time it faded out.  She’s also on a couple painkillers (Tramadol and Rimadyl) and an antibiotic (Cephalexin), and her fentanyl patch comes off tomorrow evening, I hope that’s enough to ease her through the transition without too much discomfort.  We celebrated her homecoming with chicken mcnuggets and a vanilla shake, which she was kind enough to share with Mama and her sisters.  🙂

I’m just really amazed how well she’s getting around.  In one sense I guess she doesn’t have much choice; if she wants to walk she’s gotta do it with the 3 legs she has.  But on the other hand, she could just be refusing to walk at all just from the “weirdness” of it, the imbalance.  So I’m very proud and happy to see her up and moving, it’s a great sign that her recovery should be smooth and speedy.  🙂  I almost want to cry when I watch her.  Not because I feel sorry for her, no way!  Because I’m just so damn proud.  Is that weird?  I mean, is it odd to be proud of your dog?  She’s not my child or anything (well…), am I allowed to be proud of her?  I hope so, because how else do you feel when your babydog makes it through major surgery with no complications, has a leg removed, and starts walking 10 minutes later?  When she hops up in your car like nothing’s changed?  When she toddles into the kitchen because she heard you open the package of lunchmeat and she knows it’s for her (loves her pills in ham)?  When she’s laying on the floor in your husband’s old t shirt, you’re holding an ice pack on her chest, and she’s kissing you?  If it’s not pride I’m feeling, what is it?  …No, you know what?  I figured it out.  It’s not pride, nope, it’s nothing as simple as pride.  It’s that awesome combination of love and pride and respect and admiration known as Tripride!  And it only comes from being so blessed and honored as to have a Tripawd in your life.

I really thought it was gonna be kinda weird, y’know?  That having a three-legged dog was gonna be strange, a little scary, mostly difficult.  But seeing her at school this afternoon (I had to pick her up and run back to class) and how everyone admired her, even how all the staff at the vet’s office loved her and thought she was such a special trooper…I think kinda weird is gonna be kinda great.  🙂

Author: katydid

I'm a vet tech and furmom of 3 dogs, 3 cats, and a rabbit. I'm married and live in the mountains of WV, keepin house and keepin busy :) View all posts by katydid