So Trouble, I mean Rosie, got into something and that something
got her back.
A few days ago, we came home to her favoring her left
leg/paw. She wasn’t walking on it and
she was flinging it out to the side. She
also wasn’t whining, which is something she often does when she “hurts”
something (real or for sympathy).
We gave it a good look, flash lighted it looking for
something in it, rubbed her leg, back, foot – got nothing from her indicating
pain – went to bed.
Five hours later – we woke up to her shaking and licking, looked at her
bed and it was blood covered – grabbed her foot and it was the size of a small
red plumb – flipped her foot over and it was an oozing mess.
Then, then I squeezed it – oh – if you have a weak stomach
stop here. It was like a puss volcano,
to say it was disgusting would be a complete understatement. And I squeezed some more and some more, it was
non-stop, but you know – that stuff has to go, can’t leave it in her.
After the “cleansing” I picked up our 17lb brick, carried
her to the medicine cabinet to find gauze and dog ointment – wrapped it, then
carried her downstairs to find an old baby sock, pulled it on and set her
down. You know, for 17lbs she is like an
anvil when she doesn’t want to be picked up and carried around.
What we don’t get is that her foot was normal looking just
five hours earlier, than whammo – yucko!
I guess we’ll go to the vet, Lord knows what you got into.
The vet looks at her oozing paw, makes a face, hugs her,
says he’s taking her back for the techs to wash the mess up and re-bandage and
carries her out of the exam room.
If I haven’t mentioned this before - Rosie should be the
mascot for our vets office.
All you hear when they take her away is “Aw Rosie - come see
this Dachshund, she’s so sweet, never met a friendlier one, come see her”. Then I see her being carried by the exam room
door being fed a treat. Then I see her
being carried back by the exam room door by someone else, feeding her a
treat. Then another tech has her and is
praising her sweetness, while feeding her yet another treat and finally when
she gets returned, the person that is holding her tells me there are two treat
jars on the counter – I should give her one when we leave.
Bamboozled, she has them all bamboozled.
So what we have is no idea what happened to her paw, a large
vet bill for the exam, tending and expensive antibiotics and instructions to clean
and soak the mess of a foot twice a day – which requires both hubby and I to do
at a stupid am time of the morning and then again in the evening.
And incredibly a smart dog – look, she keeps it
elevated. No one told her she needed to
keep it elevated and if we did, really would she understand? But there she is, sleeping in her little bed –
with her paw up on the edge – and she does this everytime, we don’t move it
there, she just knows.
I guess it’s true – we could learn a few things from animals
– if we just payed attention. Awww Rosie…
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