As many of you have kept up with my blog - you are aware of the hell that was my life for the past couple years. What I am particular talking about is the surgeries. My furry buddies, of course did their best to take care of me while I was recovering from my surgeries. They were loving and cuddling and even patient - sometimes.
Last week the show was on the other foot. My nearly 15 year old Bischon, Mick, had several surgical procedures. He had two teeth extracted (I think it was # 8 on the left side both top and bottom), he had a large fatty lump removed in his chest. Thankfully it was not attached to anything so came out easily. I think he may have lost nearly a pound with that removal. Finally, he had these annoying lumps on his back. Nothing serious, just kind of gross to touch/pet and they flaked - leaving pieces of Mick everywhere he went. Reminds me of that song we sang as kids - "Leprosy - I'm the half the man I used to be." They were removed with lasers and then stitched up with dissolving stitches.
His big day was a Thursday morning. I dropped Mick off at the vet, where I was told, because of the lump removal, he would be first or second up. I drove home to find his sister LU looking a bit sad because her nemesis was gone. Because Mick had to be taken to the vet early in the morning, LU and I retired to the bedroom for a nap.
We woke up and I headed downstairs. I checked the phone in case the vet called, but she hadn't. I continued on with my day and eventually I did get a call around noon. I was told that Mick did well in surgery and was now in recovery. She said he was slowly coming around and would be ready to come home around 4 - 4:30.
I arrived at the vet and was given direction on how to care for Mick. I was told he would probably sleep most of the time, which was a good thing. I was given tremodol for pain, a drug with which I am familiar. I only hoped that it helped Mick more than me. Of course his activity was to be limited and I was to be careful of his stitches. Eventually my little buddy arrived on the scene. He was a bit dippy (more than usual) but awake and alert and excited to see his dad. I have this never ending trouble with Mick - When I take him someplace he always sits nicely in the back seat. When I bring him home, he insists on standing the entire time. This often involves me telling him to sit down, or listening to Mick slide back and forth on the seat or occasionally hitting the deck when I have had to come to a stop. I explained Mick's behavior to the vet tech who suggested I put him on the floor in the front seat of the car.
Loaded up, we began our track home. Mick tried multiple times to jump up on the front seat, so I spent most of my drive time with one hand on the wheel and the other trying to keep him off the front seat by petting him around his ears. At one point I glanced over and his little head was resting on the front seat, his tongue was hanging out to the side, and his eyes were closing slowly. Two other times I glanced over and he was sitting on the front seat, his eyes would slowly close and his head would lilt to the side. Suddenly he would almost fall over and then snap awake. In truth, it was really quite adorable.
I discovered as soon as we got out of the car that Mick was not going to be an ideal patient. I had trouble picking him, because he preferred to jump the steps. I tried to make sure the living room was set for him, having washed all of his beds and covering them with clean towels. I had to go out for the evening and when I returned, Mick was a little less excited to see me than usual, which was a good thing actually. I gave him a little food, tried to walk him as I was warned that he had a lot of liquid in him and would have to tinkle a lot. I decided I would get up around 3 AM to take him out just in case. All went well and I was up again around 7 AM to do another walk and a little more food. Friday ended up being a really chill day for the both of us. I decided to do the same thing again on Saturday night to help the little guy out. I was up around 3:30 AM to take him out. Already by this time, I was beginning to struggle with picking him up for the steps. Because of his surgery, i was not able to grab him as I always have and with his squirming - well - we nearly had a few disasters.
As luck would have it, I did not set my alarm for AM, but rather PM. Not to worry though because Mick was already feeling better and let me know it was time to go out by barking to get me awake. It was 5:34 AM when we went out. All went well and I went back to bed. At 8 AM - I was awakened by the loud barks of my buddy Mick. He was not hungry, he did not need a walk - no he just wanted me to get up so he could sleep in his bed while I sat near him. He was starting to get healthy.
Last week the show was on the other foot. My nearly 15 year old Bischon, Mick, had several surgical procedures. He had two teeth extracted (I think it was # 8 on the left side both top and bottom), he had a large fatty lump removed in his chest. Thankfully it was not attached to anything so came out easily. I think he may have lost nearly a pound with that removal. Finally, he had these annoying lumps on his back. Nothing serious, just kind of gross to touch/pet and they flaked - leaving pieces of Mick everywhere he went. Reminds me of that song we sang as kids - "Leprosy - I'm the half the man I used to be." They were removed with lasers and then stitched up with dissolving stitches.
His big day was a Thursday morning. I dropped Mick off at the vet, where I was told, because of the lump removal, he would be first or second up. I drove home to find his sister LU looking a bit sad because her nemesis was gone. Because Mick had to be taken to the vet early in the morning, LU and I retired to the bedroom for a nap.
We woke up and I headed downstairs. I checked the phone in case the vet called, but she hadn't. I continued on with my day and eventually I did get a call around noon. I was told that Mick did well in surgery and was now in recovery. She said he was slowly coming around and would be ready to come home around 4 - 4:30.
I arrived at the vet and was given direction on how to care for Mick. I was told he would probably sleep most of the time, which was a good thing. I was given tremodol for pain, a drug with which I am familiar. I only hoped that it helped Mick more than me. Of course his activity was to be limited and I was to be careful of his stitches. Eventually my little buddy arrived on the scene. He was a bit dippy (more than usual) but awake and alert and excited to see his dad. I have this never ending trouble with Mick - When I take him someplace he always sits nicely in the back seat. When I bring him home, he insists on standing the entire time. This often involves me telling him to sit down, or listening to Mick slide back and forth on the seat or occasionally hitting the deck when I have had to come to a stop. I explained Mick's behavior to the vet tech who suggested I put him on the floor in the front seat of the car.
Loaded up, we began our track home. Mick tried multiple times to jump up on the front seat, so I spent most of my drive time with one hand on the wheel and the other trying to keep him off the front seat by petting him around his ears. At one point I glanced over and his little head was resting on the front seat, his tongue was hanging out to the side, and his eyes were closing slowly. Two other times I glanced over and he was sitting on the front seat, his eyes would slowly close and his head would lilt to the side. Suddenly he would almost fall over and then snap awake. In truth, it was really quite adorable.
I discovered as soon as we got out of the car that Mick was not going to be an ideal patient. I had trouble picking him, because he preferred to jump the steps. I tried to make sure the living room was set for him, having washed all of his beds and covering them with clean towels. I had to go out for the evening and when I returned, Mick was a little less excited to see me than usual, which was a good thing actually. I gave him a little food, tried to walk him as I was warned that he had a lot of liquid in him and would have to tinkle a lot. I decided I would get up around 3 AM to take him out just in case. All went well and I was up again around 7 AM to do another walk and a little more food. Friday ended up being a really chill day for the both of us. I decided to do the same thing again on Saturday night to help the little guy out. I was up around 3:30 AM to take him out. Already by this time, I was beginning to struggle with picking him up for the steps. Because of his surgery, i was not able to grab him as I always have and with his squirming - well - we nearly had a few disasters.
As luck would have it, I did not set my alarm for AM, but rather PM. Not to worry though because Mick was already feeling better and let me know it was time to go out by barking to get me awake. It was 5:34 AM when we went out. All went well and I went back to bed. At 8 AM - I was awakened by the loud barks of my buddy Mick. He was not hungry, he did not need a walk - no he just wanted me to get up so he could sleep in his bed while I sat near him. He was starting to get healthy.
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